Never More Beautiful

The rain danced on my windshield. Slithering down like a ballet of snakes. Taunting me. Luring me out.

I sat there, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles were white, eyes fixed on the darkened window of room four.

Ash falls from my cigarette and into my lap. I reek of cheap vodka and cranberry.

Radiohead's "Creep" plays on the second hand radio in my Caprice. My last and only friend in the world rests comfortably in the passenger seat.

Cold steel revolver.

The red glow of the Vacancy sign gleams off of his polished body.

The blood shot eyes of a madman glare at me from the rearview mirror. The stiff corpse of my little buddy rests in utter stillness under my sports coat in the backseat. But my new friends don't mind.

Smith and Wesson have never judged me.

I loved her. I love her still.

I gave her all of me. I prayed one day she would look into my eyes and see how much of my heart she has slowly, methodically chiseled away with her constant indiscretions and secret rendezvous with him.

It would be a lie to say I did not see it coming. Or that I did not know.

The way her eyes sparkled with childish curiosity when she caught him admiring her from across the room.

Lust was an unspoken secret he could not hide or keep to himself. Desire haphazardly hidden in the curve of his crooked smile.

It was her office Christmas party. She wore a sleek, black dress; strapless with a slit up the side exposing her smooth, shapely thigh. What man could resist stealing a glance?

Her golden hair spilled over her shoulders and the diamond pendant I bought her for our second anniversary was nestled enviously in the warm hollow of her breasts.

She was never more beautiful.

I watched her laugh at his jokes, brush his shoulder and gingerly touch his arm as she bit her lower lip and fiddled with the chain of her necklace.

I blew it off and had another drink. No need to make a scene.

She began working late and the intimacy of our relationship collapsed into nonexistence.

She came to me the first time. The sincerity of her apology pulling all the right heart strings.

Her quivering lip tugging at me. Her heartache and shame evident in every warm tear I brushed from her soft cheek.

She was on her knees, looking up at me, my hands clasped in hers.

She was never more beautiful.

Never held so much appeal in my eyes. My own Athena.

She had lain with another man...and yet I wanted her nevertheless.
I silently forgave her, without a word between us. And two weeks later I bought her a puppy.

She fucked her boss...and I bought her a puppy.

I didn't think that one all the way through.

Pins and needles swarmed my chest when she told me her office branch was flying to Cincinnati for a two day seminar on their merge with Viadex.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed with a knotted sock playing tug o war with the pup. My blood boiled and my veins were on fire. But I sat silently and played with the pup.

She tried to reassure me. Told me she didn't even wanna go but was obligated.

All I could do was sit there, chewing the inside of my cheek and watching her brush her smooth, angelic hair. How beautiful she was. I watched her carefully choose her wardrobe and missed her already.