The Online Experience

April 10, 1996 (Part 2)

Our morning was relatively quiet. After our brief interlude in the kitchen, he somewhat reluctantly agreed to go out for the morning.  After hurried showers I threw on some black leggings, a long grey sweater with big buttons running up the back and my black knee high boots before heading back into the living room.

"Mmmm, you look nice." the roguish tone in his words caught my attention as I looked up to find him casually leaning back in one of the solid kitchen chairs, legs spread wide, a pen in his hand hovering just above a tattered looking spiral notebook that was resting on the tabletop. There was an unusually serious look hidden in behind the usual playfulness in his eyes as they roamed over my body, scanning my image as though he was taking inventory of everything he saw, not judging, but maybe trying to take the perfect mental picture of what he was seeing. A soft, nearly childlike grin tugged at his lips, and it was a look that could melt anyone's heart. A look I was sure had been seen by very few and even now I could see him trying to hide it from me.  Casually, he closed the notebook and laid the pen on top, as I walked across the room to him.

"You don't look too bad yourself." giving him my best cheeky grin as I jokingly gave him exaggerated elevator eyes taking in the black turtleneck sweater and form fitting black pants covering his slim body, of course finished off with a pair of inconspicuous black heels.  His innocent grin finally broke free of his control, threatening to take over his entire soft face as he looked down, pretending to look himself over, the slightest blush highlighting his cheeks.  In that moment I knew exactly what he must have looked like as a young man when he was embarrassed, and it was the most endearing sight I'd ever seen. I wanted to wrap him in my world and protect that innocence from everything in his world that threatened to destroy that part of him; from those people and that hurt that made him feel he needed to maintain a hard exterior and distance from people.

"I thought blending in might be the best idea for a day out in town." glowing hazel eyes coming up to meet mine. Shaking my head with a coy smile as I threw my old familiar jean jacket on over my sweater.

"I think we'll be fine." reaching my hand out him, entwining my fingers with his, calloused fingertips rubbing over the back of my hand as he headed out the door.  We decided on walking to my favorite local coffee shop in downtown for a late breakfast.  We spent a good few hours sitting in a quiet corner of the coffee shop, near the window, so we could watch the people outside as they wandered by the old brick building . We spent that time in the coffee shop talking, just like any couple would when they first start out.  We talked about his past, things that might have been common knowledge to some people I figured, but not me. He asked me about my childhood and I told him enough to satisfy his curiosity; I asked about his and he quickly dodged the question. He asked me about school and what I wanted out of life; in turn I asked about his career and his next big project. We tiptoed around the subject of his personal life for obvious reasons, even though there were numerous questions I wanted to ask, it was neither the place or the time.  Through our conversation I started to pick up on his little nonverbal cues, like the slightest half smile that would lift the left side of his mouth slightly when he wasn't completely comfortable with the topic, how he'd shift his eyes to his hands when it seemed like they might give away more than his words intended, and that soft smile that was bright enough to truly reach his eyes as he lost himself in listening to me answering his questions. After the coffee shop we spent some time wandering through the local bookstore, browsing through their surprisingly large collection of first editions and signed books.  He searched rather aimlessly through the rows of dusty books, stopping on occasion to pull me out of sight and crash his lips against mine.  Between kisses we talked about books, our favorites and what we each look for in a new book.  His taste in reading was surprisingly eclectic, which was a pleasant surprise. After some time he decided on a couple first editions and we decided to head back to my apartment and relax for the afternoon.  

The piercing metallic sound of the phone ringing filled the apartment just as soon as we pushed the front door open and stepped over the threshold. Cool lips and slight stubble brushed quickly over my cheek before he pushed past me and made his way quickly into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. taking a few steps into the living room I picked up the slim black corded phone sitting on the side table.

"Hello?" slightly distracted as I began shaking my jacket off my shoulders.

"Whore?" I froze in place, my jean jacket still hanging on one arm, at the sound of the soft, unknown voice on the other end of the line. Pulling the phone back from my ear to look at it slightly as though the device itself had offended me, before putting it back to my ear.

"Excuse me?" my confusion was obvious in my voice as my mind raced to place the voice coming through the receiver.

"Heartless Bitch?" throwing my now removed jacket onto the couch as I felt myself getting slightly enraged with whomever was on the other end of this call.

"Who the hell is this?" I was clearly agitated at this point, my voice getting slightly louder than normal.

"Home wrecker, yeah that's the one. Motherfucking home wrecker." I felt my stomach drop to my feet as I instantly knew who it was. I'd never heard her speak before, but now I knew her voice was as sharp as her drawn on eyebrows. "I'd call you a prostitute, but I think that would be an insult to prostitutes."

"How did you get this fucking number?" her barely audible laugh floated through the line as my mind raced through scenarios that involved her getting this number.

"Send him home." she didn't sound like a hurt wife, like someone who was heartbroken over the current situation, instead she sounded like a petulant child who was angry someone else had taken her toy.  That was the moment I knew for sure she didn't love him in the slightest. The mere idea of knowing for certain she had been playing with his heart this whole time and was planning to continue to do so was too much for me to take as the image of his innocent smile from this morning case into my mind. I felt my blood pressure raise, my cheeks getting red and my heart thumping loader the more I thought about how she'd been treating him, how she'd abused his trust and his love. And that's when the words just started flowing out of me.

"You know I'm surprised you hopped off whoever's dick you've been riding long enough to make this call." squinting my eyes slightly at the phone as I waited for her response, but for nearly a minute I was met with the deafening silence. 

"You do understand he's married right?" she huffed "That ring on his finger says he's mine, he belongs to me you little tramp." now it was my turn to laugh as I looked in the direction of the spare change dish on the pine table by the door.  His ring was still there, now half buried under discarded nickles and pennies.

"What ring honey? I didn't see one on his hand, or anywhere else for that matter. And trust me I looked everywhere."

"Listen you nappy headed bitch, that's my husband and you need to leave him the fuck alone. He doesn't want you, he wants me and his baby. . ."

"Speaking of that baby, have you figured out who the father is yet?" I taunted as I glanced toward the bathroom, finding the door still shut with Prince safely hidden from his exchange.

"Fuck you!" pulling the phone from my ear to minimize the damage caused by her screeching. "The artist is this baby's father and we don't need you in our lives."  I couldn't contain the loud laugh that passed over my lips.

"I've been wondering what you call him." my laughter still coating my words as I turned to look out my window, focusing on the view of the mountain in the distance as I tried calm my anger. "That is seriously the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Well if you knew him you'd know he's not going by a formal name these days bitch. What do you call him? meal ticket?" her tone suggested that she knew more than I did, and there were few things in this world that bothered me quite as much as that.

"What he told me to call him." the calm in my voice surprising myself even.

"Oh, let me guess, daddy?" I could hear the her cocking her head and trying to lift her penciled on eyebrow in her cutting tone.

"No, Prince." the slightest huff of anger could be heard through the phone.

"Sydney?" a questioning baritone caught my attention, causing me to gasp slightly as I turned around on the spot to find Prince laying his coat over the back of the couch and walking toward me with a cautiously curious expression on his face. "Who are you talking to?"