The Stripper That Stole My Heart

Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Home...This was once a place I cherished every moment I spent with Clare. It was where we sat on the couch watching a movie, in the bedroom with the sheets tangled around us, the kitchen, watching her cook breakfast for both of us after a long night at work.

This building, the one bedroom apartment we lived in, housed so many memories of happiness, and love. But when I stepped into the living room of a place I once treasured as the base of my love and devotion to my fiancee, I felt an odd sense of emptiness and...longing.

The overwhleming sense of there being something more for me, was all I could see as I looked around the room. The corners seemed darker, full of blackness. Bleak. Depressing. My eyes darted around the room as if searching, but for what...I didn't know.

"Honey," I heard Clare's voice close to my right. My brows fell downward, my expression almost one of desperation. "Matthew," her voice came again, and again I ignored it.

"Matthew, is something wrong?" Clare murmured to me, and as I finally pulled my face towards her, I could see the fear in her light blue eyes. She was afraid.....afraid I was changing my mind so close to the wedding.

"No," I responded as my lips lifted in a warm smile. Automatically my arm reached out to wrap around her shoulder, my body's reactions to her coming out of habit. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was that I just felt so..empty.

The only description for how I felt was empty. I couldn't think of a better term. As I looked at everything, even Clare, there was no surge of feeling, no feeling of love. And that was what hurt me most, there was no feeling of love as I looked down at her and saw her eyes full of trust.

"Matthew, you've been acting odd since you got back from Vegas," Clare said quietly, placing a hand on my chest. Her head tilted to the side as it usually did when she was thinking.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm just still really worn out from the trip," was my answer as I looked away. I rubbed her arm, where my hand rested, hugging her to me mechanically.

And that was where it fell apart, where my charade of being perfectly fine ended. By looking away, I had alerted her to the distress I was actually going through. "Something is wrong, Matthew. Is it the wedding being so close?" she immediately pounced on what she saw as the problem.

"No, Clare. It's not the wedding," I replied swiftly, pulling my arm away to reposition my body so that I now fully faced her.

"Really? Because, since the rehearsal you've been distant, and not very vocal. You've been simply moving as if you're being pulled along on strings, like a puppet," Clare said, her voice becoming crisp as she crossed her arms.

"I'm fine, Clare. You're getting upset over nothing," I argued, taking a step back. Stepping back had me not having to look down at her, so I could giveher a level gaze, as my arms hung limply at my sides.

"Oh yes, perfectly fine. Have you even written your vows?" She snapped, leaning back on her heels, putting distance between us.

I wasn't particularly one to argue, or even get violent so I knew what Clare was doing by getting more and more hostile. She wanted me to back down, I knew it. It was something I had never realized before, but every fight we'd ever had, every argument, had ended when she got hostile and I could just imagine her claws ready to strike.

So, I surprised her for once. My empty feeling helped me to see some clarity, helped me notice something I had been oblivious to because I loved her unconditionally. At that moment I didn't care that I was running on empty flames, that something I had felt only a couple days before was gone.