Seducing Montreux

Chasing a Toast with Oysters

I was looking myself over in the bathroom mirror, affixing the diamond bracelet on my left wrist. I fumbled and fumbled with it trying to get it to latch. I could smell Roger’s ridiculously intense scent that forced every chemical in my body into overdrive. It was exactly how I had remembered him smelling the first time I slept with him. Sure, it had been seven years, but truly nothing had changed all that much. He still smelled the same, still wore the platinum bracelet I bought him years ago, and underneath it all…he was still Roger.

 “Give me your wrist.” He said, pulling my arm away from my body before I could answer. He had that stupid thing snapped together in two seconds versus the good minute and a half I had spent on it. “There. Hey, I really like this shirt you got me.” I smiled.

 “I kinda’ thought you would.” I looked in the mirror at Roger. He stood there very seriously and ran his hands over my long white sleeves.

 “Babe, I’m so sorry…wait…no…it’s…not that I’m sorry it’s…” I turned around and put my arms around his shoulders.

 “Sweetheart…” I paused and put my palms on his cheeks. “I know…” Roger stopped me and put his hands on mine.

 “I don’t ever wanna’ hurt you again…why did I…why?” he asked me. I glanced down to his collar and slid my hands out from under his, unbuttoning the first couple buttons of his shirt and revealing his necklace underneath. I shook my head a bit sentimentally.

 “You’re right…there is a lot of pressure and a lot of…temptation on tour. But…you make some dumb, idiotic decisions.” I reminded him.

 “Well, I’m blonde!” he said smiling all over at me. Shit, he knew good and well his smile was all it took to collapse me from the inside out. I laughed.

 “Yes…I know…like that time you asked my mum if you were eatin’ chicken or pork that one night at dinner.” I laughed more, still sliding my fingers long the edges of his cream, silken shirt. “My god, Roger! You couldn’t tell the difference!?”

 “It was cordon bleu, Lydia! It could have been either one!” he told me, moving his hands to the wide, white belt on my waist. He shifted his eyes to my waist.

 “You’re so fuckin’ thin. Shit…this is what I mean…I do this shit to you!” Roger sighed and leaned his forehead against mine. “I’ve ignored you so much in the past nearly two months that I haven’t even noticed how much weight you’ve lost…on account of what I’ve put you through and what you put yourself through… let alone…” Roger stopped and shook his head again. “…let alone anything else. Babe, you gotta’ eat somethin’ tonight. This is our dinner! This our wedding night dinner!” Roger shot those bright blue eyes up at me and shook my shoulders. I smiled.

 “Actually, last night was our wedding night dinner. But don’t worry; I’m sure there’s plenty on the hibachi tonight. “Roger, I love you. Okay? I do. Yes, you hurt me…you hurt me bad this time around. I just want us to get through this together as we have other things and I want you to love me more than you did the day before.”

 “I will and I do.” Roger said, kissing me. He looked me over again. “You look pretty in ya’ diamonds…an’ this white dress.  Did you get this today?” He put his fingers over the 25,000 pound necklace around my neck. I smiled, a little sheepishly.

 “Yeah, stupid Chrissie insisted I wear it tonight.” I rolled me eyes. “Come on, I gotta’ put my shoes on and then I’ll be ready.” I moved Roger aside and walked out of the bath to the bed where my white pumps were placed on the floor. As I sat on the edge, I caught sight of something on the nightstand underneath the phone. It was a white enveloped. I reached over and pulled it from underneath the phone, looking at the front: ROGER AND LYDIA. I had a most confused look over my face as I opened the envelope. It was a card and it was dated the day before. I looked at the ornate outside, all embossed in white and quite fancy: CELEBRATING YOUR MARRIAGE. I opened it up and reading the message: A DAY OF TOGETHERNESS. A DAY OF UNITY. A DAY TO CALL YOUR OWN. WISHING YOU BOTH A LIFE OF HAPPINESS. There was a handwritten message on the blank side of the card: ‘I bet you two arses are wondering how the hell you managed to get put up in the suite in this damn resort. Well, consider it a gift from Mary and I. You didn’t register for shit and you hardly said a word to anyone that you were actually going to go through with getting married. So, here. We put you two in this fucking suite because you deserve it or whatever. Mary and I love you both very much and are pissed as hell we aren’t in there instead. Love, Freddie and Mary.’ I smiled as I read it to myself but I also couldn’t believe Mary hadn’t said a word to me about it. Now I felt badly for having not said anything the day prior when it was actually intended.