Passion's Instinct

Twenty Eight

Hayden

I got dressed in the dressing room that morning, thinking of how painful my day would be today on set.

Just as I was about to take off my shorts and pull on some jeans, I heard the doorknob turn and the door flew open, revealing Rachel, turned around talking to someone. I waited expectantly for her to leave and let me get dressed, but she did the exact opposite.

She turned around, her eyes wide as she caught sight of my left leg. I covered my ears and Rachel screamed.

"He has a metal leg?!" she screamed, and everyone turned to look into my dressing room, where I stood holding a pair of folded jeans in one hand, awestruck.

Rachel stared expectantly at the stage workers and people with headsets, including the director. "Um, hello? I refuse to work with a guy who has a..." -she stifled a smirk- "...metal leg. Much less kiss him!" She dropped the clipboard she was holding over the threshold and stormed off, with several assistant running after her.

***********************************

Once I got home that afternoon, I tore off my shoes and threw them on the floor beside me. One knocked the wall and sent a picture frame crashing down. It hit the floor and glass shattered everywhere. It was a picture of Natalie holding Sawyer when he was a newborn.

"Shi -- " The picture reminded me of the baby on the way and suddenly made me feel less frustrated about the situation with Rachel. " -- oot. Shoot," I corrected myself, picking up the glass pieces and setting the picture delicately on the kitchen counter. I breathed out and willed myself to calm down.

As I finished vacuuming everything up, there was a knock at the door. I stopped the vacuum and answered it.

And guess who it was? Rachel.

Willingly I shut the door in her face, but a second later she knocked again. I opened it and stood there, waiting for some kind of explanation. I made the face she made earlier at the co-workers, a sassy-looking face, like Hello? Is anyone going to say something about this?

"I am so sorry, Hayden. I shouldn't have said that about your... leg."

"Words can't be taken back. I know you meant what you said." I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the doorframe.

"But I'm sorry." She glanced down at my left leg. "Honestly, I am. Can we finish this movie together?"

"Listen... the movie was already called off my the director. It's no longer on until they can find another female actress to do it." I lifted my chin, glaring at her from down my nose. "By the way, I have a wife. So don't try to kiss me." I almost shut the door, but she wedged her way between it and the frame. "Wait! Please."

"No."

She glared at me, and before I could shut her out, she stamped on my foot. I let out a cry of pain, wincing. Rachel turned me around, pulling me down by my neck and kissing me savagely. All I wanted to do was pull away and slap her, but she had me down so hard I couldn't move. She was the most disgusting woman I had ever met. Not to mention she was the worst kisser. Ever.

She kissed me so hard I started coughing, but she still held on.

I heard a cry of disgust and Rachel was pulled away from me, which was a life saver, but also a factor of me being killed. It was Natalie.

She must've had some kind if talk with Rachel, because she sent me inside. I waited there for ten minutes, wanting to cry because of the experience I'd just had. That was definitely one of the worst experiences I'd ever had, no doubt about it.

I lifted my head when the door slammed and in came a flustered Natalie. She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pushed me to the sink in the bathroom in our bedroom.

"Wh... what do you want me to do...?"

"Wash your mouth out."

"What?"

"Wash your mouth out."

I picked up my toothbrush, but she pushed it back down onto the counter and picked up the soap bar.

My mouth dropped open, and I shook my head vigorously. "No. No, no, no, no. I can't. I can't do that."

"Then I'll do it for you."

Natalie pushed my head down so that my face was just above the sink bowl. "But I haven't had this done to me since I was seven!" I protested. "Is this a punishment?"

She turned the water on and I started to sweat. No matter what happened, I didn't want soap in my mouth. No way.

"Don't do this, Natalie!"

I felt her hand relax on the back of my neck, which I thought meant she was going to stop, but apparently not. She stuck the bar of soap in my mouth, and as soon as it touched my tongue, I cringed, tears springing to the surfaces of my eyes.

Natalie washed my mouth out, and the whole time, I whined and begged for her to stop. She just told me to stop whining and after that, she ignored me.

Finally, she pulled the bar of soap out and I spit out white water. She filled a cup of clear water from the sink and have it to me, telling me to swish. I obeyed, not wanting any more soap in my mouth.

Once I spit it out, I stayed leaning over the sink, feeling sick. "That's disgusting," I said, still tasting soap in my mouth. "That was gross."

I stood up and looked up at Natalie, who's arms were crossed. I could see the small bump she had for a stomach since her shirt was made tighter by the position of her arms. She glared at me. "Isn't that what you deserve?"

***********************************

That night after I picked up Sawyer from school, we ate dinner and Natalie put Sawyer to bed, I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth slowly.

Why couldn't Rachel just have stayed away? Why did I have to meet her in the first place? What was her purpose in my life? To jack it all up?

She was stupid. I think I actually had hate for her. No... maybe that was a little strong.

I walked out of the bathroom and laid down in bed next to Natalie. She was turned the other way, reading. I turned off the light beside my bed and lay there on my back, thinking.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I didn't mean -- "

"It's fine," I heard her mumble. She flipped a page in her book. I let out a deep breath.

"I swear I didn't..."

"I know." Another page flip.

"Well, I just -- "

Natalie turned over and looked at me, straight in the eye. "Listen, Hayden. I get it. I know you didn't mean it, and I trust you. I just need some time to... think about it." She turned back over and turned her light out, placing her book on the bedside table.

"Goodnight," I said, trying breaking the silence.

"Goodnight."

I turned over the other way, so out backs were facing each other's. I wasn't really sure what she meant about she needed to 'think about it,' but I accepted the answer anyway. Maybe I just needed to think about it too. Or maybe another way to say I was sorry.