Author's Note: Trust is a very vital part of a relationship and there's a bunch of stories on here about it. So, here's my view.
Summary: Trust is everything in a relationship, especially in a relationship like theirs.
The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.
-Ernest Hemingway
Trust Me
It'd been a long time since Daniel was able to kick back and bask in his 'bachelorness'. His relationship with one Wilhelmina Slater was proving to be exhausting and time consuming, not to mention a full time job. It amazed him how demanding that woman could be, but he really shouldn't have been so surprised—she was Wilhelmina Slater, after all. There were times, in the nine months they had been together, when Daniel thought his life was not his own anymore, and he was spot-on with that sentiment.
He could remember a not too distant time when he could partake in a bowl of cereal and milk or a box of delicious donuts, put it on the table, and just leave it there for as long as he chose to. A time when he could leave dishes in his sink and in the dishwasher for days on end without a woman in his ear telling him to clean it up. He missed the times when he could come home after a long day at the office, kick off his shoes and throw his jacket on the floor without Wilhelmina yelling at him about his messy habits.
Today, and maybe tomorrow if he could, he would enjoy those little moments, those things he far too often took for granted. Because if he knew Willie the way he thought he knew her, she wouldn't be gracing him with her presence for atleast 24 hours. She was royally pissed at him. And while he hated it when she was mad at him—she tended to make his life a living hell—he was determined to enjoy the newfound, though temporary, freedom.
"What the hell died in here?" Betty exclaimed walking into Daniel's dismal and disgusting 'man cave'.
Daniel screwed up his face in equal disgust. "It's been a while since I actually lived here. I usually just stay at Willie's place."
"What?" Betty began, shocked that Daniel would sit down in a place so nasty. "Why are you sitting? Aren't you gonna clean up first?"
"I called my housekeeper. She'll be here shortly."
"So what, you're just gonna 'bask in the ambiance'?"
He shrugged flipping on his TV, "Yea."
Marc dropped to the floor as a glass vase came hurdling toward his head followed by a crystal candy dish.
"Willie what's going on?"
As if he didn't know.
"Nothing!" she yelled, teeth clenched angrily.
". . . Does this have anything to do with that little argument you and Daniel had last night . . . and on the phone this morning?"
"It's none of your business," Willie growled at him as she tore through Daniel's drawers.
"Willie—"
She turned her head, narrowing her eyes at the young man.
"You called me here," he calmly reminded her.
Calming down enough to form a sentence, Willie grabbed her phone and flung it at him. Amazingly, he caught the offending object before it could whack him in the face.
"Those pictures were sent to me last night," she was finally able to get out, though her anger was growing with every word.
Marc unlocked Willie's phone. A picture of Daniel and some blonde woman filled the large screen. "This is it?"
"No! There's like four more after that one!"
Indeed there were. Very suggesting pictures, to say the least. "Maybe you're just jumping to conclusions, Willie."
"I don't care! He canceled dinner with me to go out with some blonde bimbo! I am Wilhelmina Slater, not some fucking whore he can come to whenever the fancy takes him!"
"I'm sure he doesn't see you that way. I mean, you are in a relationship with him."
"Correction: was."
"Willie—"
"Who the hell does he think he is? What would possess him to—to have dinner with another woman?"
Marc was finding it hard not to laugh—not at the situation, but at the fact that Willie, his Willie, Wilhelmina Slater was having a jealous fit. And that jealous fit she was partaking in was caused by Daniel 'Pasty face' Meade.
"What the hell are you smiling about?"
"You're jealous."
"I am not jealous! I am enraged, okay? There's a difference."
Marc didn't buy it. "This is me you're talking to. You can tell me the truth."
Willie considered him for a moment, still seeing red.
"Talk to me, Wilhelmina."
Finally letting down her guard, Willie sat down on her bed. "Do you have any idea how much I put into this relationship? How much trust I put into him?"
As she looked at Marc, he could see the sincerity in her eyes, hear it in her voice. He was with her every step of the way, through the ups and downs of her relationship with Daniel. Marc knew how much energy she put into them. She worked hard for them and it was an everyday struggle to put a mere ounce of trust in him.
"I don't trust men, Marc."
"I know . . . What happened last night?"
". . . He has the password to my phone," she revealed, ignoring his question.
Marc gasped at her admission. He didn't even have her password. No man had ever been close to having her password.
"I have nothing to hide, so I gave it to him . . . You know I asked that ass for his last night and he told me no. It makes me think he has something to hide and by the looks of those pictures in my phone; I have every right to think that. I feel like the little trust I did have is gone . . . so I told him to leave."
"But Willie, you sure you want to throw all that hard work away?" Marc asked. "Nine months is a long time in this business, you said so yourself. Are you positive—100 percent positive—that it wasn't worth it? Because, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've never seen you so happy . . . and as carefree as you are when you and Daniel are together. You love him . . . . enough for you to hand over the password to your phone! That means he has access to all your texts, your emails, pictures, notes, everything; all that is at his disposal. Willie don't play that."
She smiled wryly as he stuck up his index finger and moved it from side to side.
"That's a huge deal. What's a bigger deal is that you did all this for Daniel Meade. You put all that hard work in Daniel Meade. Are you really gonna let another lesser woman, much lesser woman, 'reap what you've sewn'? I think not."
Willie laughed at his impromptu speech. Amusing as it was, though, he was speaking the truth.
"Thank you, Maria," Daniel said as the housekeeper grabbed her things to go mumbling something in Spanish. It was most likely about how filthy his place was. He didn't care though.
Daniel walked into the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and a bag of chips out of the cabinet. He set the beer down and took a chip out of the bag popping it into his mouth. His face scrunched as he chewed the stale chip. He spit it out in the sink and threw the bag in the trash. He was bored. He'd already gone through all the channels on his TV, played his stupid play station game that he had been yearning to play for the longest, and he'd even taken a nap while Maria was cleaning up. None of it really satisfied him, but he would never admit it to himself. The only thing he hadn't done was what he usually did when he was sitting in his apartment, bored as all get out. But if he did that and Wilhelmina found out, she'd surely castrate him.
Daniel hated times like this. Times when Wilhelmina was upset at him and he was left alone with his thoughts. He'd have to examine his actions, which would lead to him realizing how wrong he was. This time was no different. He probably should've informed Willie about the 'blonde bimbo,' as she called her, beforehand. However, he did tell her the truth. She was an old friend—ex-girlfriend—who wanted to catch up, simple as that. He hadn't seen or heard from her in a long time, and despite their relationship that went south, she was still a good friend . . . Although the way she kept touching his arm and hanging on his every word suggested something completely different. Not to mention the subtle flirtatious words she kept throwing him. In his defense, he never added fuel to the fire. He was very neutral and friendly, never suggesting anything more than friendship. He even told her about his relationship with Willie. Now that he thought about it, she quickly changed the subject after he told her. Maybe she wasn't such a good friend.
Buzzzzz Buzzzzz
Daniel looked down at his phone and was surprised to see Willie's name light up the screen. Uncertain, Daniel picked the phone up and answered it, bringing it slowly to his ear.
" . . . Hello?"
"Open the door!" she snapped then abruptly ended the call.
Confused, Daniel put his phone back on the counter top and walked to the door opening it for his girlfriend. Wilhelmina stood at the door in her defensive stance, ready for a fight. Eyebrow raised the way only Wilhelmina Slater knew how, she looked at him.
"Can I come in?" she asked, visibly irritated.
"Uh . . . Yea."
He stepped aside and let her walk in.
Willie stood in the kitchen, arms folded over her chest, icily staring at him. And they stood that way for atleast a minute.
" . . . So did you come here just to stare at me?"
That statement seemed to set her off. "You don't get to say anything, Meade. I have the floor."
"And I'm supposed to sit here and wait like a good little doggy for you to speak? I don't think so."
"Oh, but I do. And don't talk to me like I did something wrong. This," she motioned between them, "is your fault."
He couldn't argue with that, so instead of saying anything else, he leaned against the counter reserved. Willie, in turn, continued staring at him.
". . . I trust you Daniel, to an extent, and you know, probably better than anybody else, how hard I had to work to get myself to where we are in this relationship."
He nodded.
"If you knew that, then why would you jeopardize it to go to dinner with another woman? You canceled plans with me, the woman you're supposed to be in a relationship with."
". . . We had this discussion already, Wilhelmina," he sighed wiping his hands over his exasperated face. "I was wrong, I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
"That's not the point, Daniel! Here I am thinking I can trust you—"
"To an extent," he barked, his irritation level with her going through the roof.
"You're lucky I trust you at all!"
"Me? What about you! After all you put me through over the years, it's no wonder this relationship has lasted as long as it has!"
"Fuck you, Daniel," she said attempting to leave.
Finding his composure, Daniel followed her and grabbed her arm. "Wait . . . that was uncalled for."
Fuming, Willie jerked her arm back.
"Look, Jessica is an ex-girlfriend, she wanted to catch up and it'd been a long time since we last met, so I agreed. I had no idea that she was going to be all over me like that. I went to catch up, that was all. The only time I ever touched her was when we first met up. I hugged her, we had dinner, she touched, I didn't, we talked, I left, end of story. None of what those pictures suggested happened. I've never lied to you before, Willie; I swear I'm telling you the truth."
It was the look in his eye that let her know he was telling the truth. That and the fact that, as far as she knew, he never lied to her.
"If you ever," she began, face expressionless, "do that to me again, I will make your life a living hell. And as for this Jessica character, you can count on never seeing her again."
"Agreed."
She held out her hand, eyes narrowed at his phone. "Hand it over."
Daniel did as he was told and placed his phone in the palm of her hand. She looked at him; waiting for what she thought was obvious.
" . . . What?"
"Your password."
". . . Oh . . . "
"Really Daniel?"
"No! I just . . . It's just . . ." he stammered. "It's . . . your measurements."
"My measurements?"
She tried to stay emotionless, but she couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips.
"You're so corny," she laughed putting her measurements (his password) into the phone. "So if I go through this phone, will I find anything?"
"No."
"That's your final answer?"
"That's my final answer."
"Okay."
She locked his phone and handed it back to him. He looked at her questioningly.
"I'm trusting you."
The End
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing . . . I'm just a broke college student.