Chapter 3: Changes
It's been a whole week since I decided to grace the office with my presence; I know what you're thinking. 'He was moping around feeling sorry for himself all that time. 'Oh he has so little dignity left.' As much as I would like to gloat about how wrong you all are in your summations; it pains me to admit that you're absolutely right. I would still be locked safely away within my nice cozy apartment drinking myself into a coma if it weren't for that insufferable best friend of mine, who has no pity for my current situation.
He pontificates on the dangers of what he calls, 'the dreaded drink' and threatens me with all manner of punishments to get me off my, as he so eloquently put it, 'off my lazy ass,' and get back to work. What the hell does he know anyways? I wasn't being lazy I was simply grieving. Whatever happened to the concept of compassion?
So with that philosophical load of self-justifying diatribe out the way, I turned to my brief case, slipped a bottle of pricey vodka inside and off to work I did go.
Okay, let me guess, you all want to know the answer to the burning question of my plan to win my wife back... honestly, I'd like to know that too. I hadn't planned on wasting my time by intoxicating myself; the evil bottle sat upon the table looking so goddamn alluring. As you can see it clearly wasn't my fault at all. Alcohol should and will always be blamed for any distractions that may occur in my life, as it's the ultimate scapegoat.
As I was saying, I walked into the office as if the last seven days had been cut from my life and thrown on the cutting room floor. I soon learnt first hand the fact that gossip had quickly spread throughout the hallowed offices of the firm much to my chagrin, for I distinctly heard the sounds of derisive whisperings as I passed by the array of desks filled with curious onlookers with as it seemed, nothing better to do with their time.
I thanked god I wasn't sober enough to fully understand what they were discussing. I strode quickly into my office without acknowledging my secretary, as I usually do, and closed the door. Though the intercom I curtly told her to hold my calls unless they were extremely urgent, then and only then was she to disturb me. I sat back in my comfortable chair and proceeded to submerge myself in a vodka-induced state of intoxication. If you haven't realized by now this manifestation of the bliss state never lasts too long in the real world.
A certain annoying blonde, who stalked into my office with a very unattractive scowl on his face, suddenly interrupted my emersion within my euphoric stupor.
He just glowered at me for a considerable length of time. I have to say, really, hasn't he the good grace and decorum to know I'm totally pre-occupied at the moment? I mean, can't he see I'm embarking upon a paralytic vision quest to explore my private fool's paradise? He was still waiting for my reaction to his grand, and may I add, rude invasion of my sacred space.
Well, let me tell you ... I reacted alright, and laughed so hard I fell to the floor and lost it ... allowing myself the luxury of indulging in a fit of uncontrollable mirth. I couldn't help myself; it was either my drunken stupor that disengaged the safety protocols in my head, or perhaps it was an ironic reaction to what poorly passed for my sorry existence.
Obviously, Andrew and I didn't quite see eye to eye at the time, because my laughter only made him increasingly irate. I honestly believed he'd lose it at any moment; he tried everything to shut me up. That was until Andrew picked up and threw my brand new pencil holder at me. I ask you, I'd grown quite attached to it too ... how could he! This ill mannered display from good old Andy would under normal circumstances bother me a great deal, but alas what was there to be done? Yet since it was customary for people to throw inanimate objects at me; it didn't strike me as such a big deal at all these days.
"You fucking jerk! I can't believe you can sit there and laugh after screwing up your marriage!" he scolded, but like I said, I was drunk and there is no use reasoning with an inebriated man.
I said the first thing that came into my incoherent mind.
"and your point is? ..." I sniggered as I picked myself off the floor and faced my best friend with a wide drunken smile plastered upon my face.
Don't worry my readers, you can put your bats and clubs back in your broom closet cause' I assure you he wiped it off my face with a jaw shattering punch that knocked me unconscious for more than an hour. I know your all sitting down smugly thinking I got what I deserved, and for the most part you're right. I deserved that blow and it not only brought me a killer headache; it brought me back to my senses.
I finally regained my consciousness I awoke to the sounds of my best friend making a mess of my office. At first, I assumed he was just taking out his anger by trashing my office knowing how much I would hate it, but then I looked to my right and discovered a large pile of liquor bottles I'd hidden away. He took it upon himself to rid me of them. There must have been a dozen or thereabouts of my prized black labeled vodka bottles lying on the floor beside me. I stared at him blankly for a while before deciding to sit up and talk to him ... like the civilized man I used to be. Wrong choice; the moment I tried to sit upright I felt pain hit me with the force of a hammer upon a nail, or better analogy two cars crashing straight into each other at a maximum velocity. I heard him chuckle righteously at my pitiful state. I hissed several profanities at him after finally managing to sit myself up straight.
"Are you in a civilized state of mind, or should I punch you out again?" Andrew quipped, is it just me or was he enjoying my suffering a little too much.
I groaned in response to his question. He chuckled once again at his inside joke cause' I see nothing funny in this, and sat next to me on the floor. Oh lucky me, he still had a sense of humor given the circumstances. But were was that sense of humor an hour ago before he knocked me to the ground
"Did you have to mess up my office like this?" I spat through clenched teeth.
As you can imagine, by this time I was a tad angry; this brought on by my throbbing skull and battered pride. Andrew's eyes widened a fraction as he surveyed his handy work; he had up-ended both my desk and bookshelves. He didn't bother with the filing cabinets; he just picked the locks with my envelope opener. Andrew then took a pace or two back and shoved his hands into his pockets looking at the documents strewn across the floor. After examining his masterpiece of office deconstruction; he nodded his approval.
"Yes, in deed I did." He said patting my back firmly in a friendly manner inadvertently aggravating a rather large bruise I'd acquired after he'd knocked me off my feet. I tried to suppress my yelp of pain to no avail, but I've never been one to feign an impervious response to agony. I'm not the cool calm hero type, who can laugh it off and simply smile. No not I!
"Man ... you must feel like shit? ... Probably craving an aspirin, am I right? Lucky for you I just happened to carry a bottle on me!" He said reaching inside his jacket pulling out the much-needed bottle of aspirin, but as I reached for it he teasingly pulled it away.
Oh, how I just wanted to beat him senseless at that moment; if it weren't for the pounding ache that shot through my battered body at that moment, I'd do just that.
"Unlucky for you, I don't pity you enough to give you any!" He hissed venomously placing the bottle back in his jacket.
My only interest was that little bottle; I was in dire need of its contents and would do anything to have it. So I did the only thing that ran through my mind at that moment.
I bawled, and sat there and buried my head in my hands blubbering like a baby in need of its mother's milk. I sobbed my heart out as all my frustrations and pain poured out of me. It wasn't just physical pain, but all my pent up emotional anguish that smashed through the watershed of tears I'd held back for years. For the life of me I couldn't bring myself to stop, and part of me didn't want to. I must have earned enough pity from Andrew, for he allowed me to release all the hurt and sorrow within my broken heart. He sat beside me and encased me in a brotherly embrace. We stayed like that until my tears had subsided.
I felt calmer, but still in pain. Andrew appreciated the emotional experience I'd undergone, and then handed me the bottle of aspirin he'd denied me moments before. I was tempted to jug down its contents, but decided against it, knowing it wouldn't help solve my problems. I took the required dose using my saliva to swallow them.
As I sat there waiting for the tablets to take effect; Andrew continued to look for the three last bottles of vodka I had stashed away in my office. He made it clear he still didn't trust me. Sure, it would have been easier to tell him where they were, but I opted to remain silent ... he made me cry, and he should pay for that I reasoned. He eventually gave up the search after finding two more bottles and sat next to me as we stared blankly at the pile of unopened vodka piled before us.
"Do you want to explain to me why I received a call from a lamenting Serena at three o'clock in the morning, or should I begin with the lecture?" He inquired opening one of 'my' liquor bottles and taking a mouthful.
Sighing dejectedly, I told him exactly what happened starting from early that morning to later that evening when she finally left me. Needless to say; he took another mouthful as an expression of his utter astonishment.
"Fuck, Darien ... I knew you were reckless and forgetful at times, but I never pictured you so utterly retarded before." He said shaking his head in disbelief.
"I know; I can't believe it slipped my mind. I don't know what to do, Andrew. I'm worried she actually might enjoy this separation and will leave me for good," I confided.
"Can you really blame her? ... Hey man ... you forgot your anniversary, and not just those fake anniversaries woman come up with to get free presents. You forgot the anniversary of your own wedding... don't you realize how important and sacred that is for women?" Andrew retorted arching an eyebrow as was his custom.
"No, I can't ... you're right. I've lost her, Andrew; she was the reason I woke each morning, just to her lovely face every day ... and I can't imagine living without that anymore makes my life feel empty. Hell it's already empty! I don't know how long I can take this solitude." I said as the word 'solitude' kept repeating itself in my head and it made me dizzy with the pathos it stirred up.
The pain fuelled my outrage, but I had no one to blame and I was sick and tired of blaming myself so that's why I lashed out. I snatched the bottle of liquor from Andrew's hand and threw it against the wall and watched as it shattered, comparing the sharps that shone magnificently in the light of the room drop simultaneously to the floor, with my heart. I felt a sense of satisfaction overwhelm me at that moment, but I couldn't exactly explain why. Perhaps it was the sight of thousands of shards of glass scattered around the already disheveled office. If you asked me why, I don't really know as something had clicked in my head and a strange sense of euphoria overtook me.
"God-damn her," I cursed as my scream echoed throughout the room.
Andrew was too shocked to say anything at that moment, and for that I was truly grateful. I just needed to let off some steam.
"This is all her god-damn fault; and you know! Solitude used to be my best friend before she came into my life. I didn't need anyone's company, and now I can't bare a second without her. I must be deluded, cause' I see her god-damn face everywhere, Andrew ... and I mean, everywhere ... She haunts me ... everything about her haunts me. I remember every detail; the subtle way her hips sway when she's walking, The way she smelled the minute she stepped out of the shower, the way she talks to me as if I were the only person on the planet that understood her... the what she can eat for a whole army, the way she licks her vanilla ice cream... Everything is etched into my brain. I want to be with her, cause' that's the only thing my muddled brain responds to. I hate feeling this god-damn weak, I can't bare facing the fact it was I who hurt her, and there's not a thing I can do to change the situation ... all I want is her forgiveness!" I blurted as I buried my face in my hands. Those scrambled thoughts have been wreaking havoc on my mental health, and subsequently my liver.
Everything was weighing itself down on me. It shocked me to discover one morning while gazing into my pale reflection that I had developed stress wrinkles despite my youth.
Andrew glowered at me; he never likes it when I rant in a pessimistic fashion, but I guess that's one of the many things I like about him. Andrew is implacably honest, especially with me. I appreciate all his twisted ways to bring me back to reality, and his knockout punch was a classic example as it brought with it the desired result. There's nothing like a good jab to the jaw to make you come to your senses and a complementary bump on the back of one's head. I hissed in pain as I wrapped my arms about my poor abused head.
"Pathetic, really pathetic man ... you're almost pitiable, but since I am your best friend, I'm not going to fall for it ... You're going to get off your ass, fix yourself up... a breath mint wouldn't hurt either, and then we're going to figure out a way to get Serena back. You deserve a lot of things, but having your wife leave you under those circumstances isn't one of them. It was a mistake on your part, a damned stupid mistake ... you're only human, Darien, even you can get it wrong as we all do from time to time. If you can make up for it somehow, there's no reason you can't earn her forgiveness," He explained in a consoling tone. I needed that support from him, and then noticed the smile forming upon his lips as he stepped back and examined my disheveled state and shook his head.
"I...I," I stammered trying to find the appropriate words to say.
The logical parts of my mind calmly argued for a dignified retreat and quit while I was ahead and forget any thought of reconciliation with Serena, that there was no possible way I could convince Serena to stay with me and make the marriage work. Fortunately for me, my emotional side was screaming 'Screw your pride and accept the help on offer idiot!' The voices in my head vied for supremacy until I came to my final decision.
"Thanks Andrew, I'll need all the help I can get!" I smiled and he nodded.
We didn't waste a second, for as soon as I agreed to accept his help; he ushered me out of my tousled office and started making calls via his cell phone.
He told me I needed a new look, something less tedious. He spent the rest of the day helping me sober up, which was a task in itself. The nausea didn't settle down until very early the next morning. He opted to crash at my place, and offered the excuse that it was too late to head home only to get an hour's sleep before returning to my apartment. He was right; it would have been pointless so we agreed. Andrew had assembled numerous stylists to come over to give me what he phrased as a 'two day make over party.' The first item on the agenda was my hair, which I kept rather long and combed back and close to the scalp with hair gel I wore that way to create what passed for me as a businessman look. They cut my beautiful hair; I loved that hair! Though I would never let on ... it pained me to see it all end up on the floor. Serena loved my hair and loved running her fingers through it; this was why I rarely had it cut. I felt as if I was losing more of her without it; it was a complete transformation as I discovered while they highlighted it to god knows what color. I must have looked odd sitting as if my eyes were wired shut, for I was too afraid to look at my reflection in the mirror.
I discovered much to my surprise I had to set aside my earlier preconceptions, for the outcome was actually quite pleasing. It wasn't half as bad as I had feared. Actually, I looked a lot better than ever before. The hairdresser had given me a layered cut, and I actually had bangs that floated before my eyes. I wouldn't really have to waste time sleeking back my hair each morning before work any longer. I could just run a comb through it and this would give me a slightly tousled and may I say, sexy look. My highlights would only be visible if I were under the sun, or bright light; it was a dark-blue tint that would stand out with a light glow in certain lighting and looked great.
I went to a solarium to get myself a decent tan, I am ghostly pale. Andrew was kind enough to come along with me for moral support. He too decided to tan up; it felt awkward walking into a spa and having Andrew there helped settle my nerves.
Later, when I took a look in the mirror at my appearance, to say I was pleased with the final outcome was an understatement. My ethereal pale skin was now tinted a rich peach tone.
The next day had been set aside for the purpose of creating a new wardrobe for me; Andrew had to virtually wrench my credit cards from my death like grip. It's not that I didn't have the money for this, for I had more than enough savings to pay for all my purchases, but I hated spending so much on clothes out of habit. The way I saw it; their purpose was to keep me warm and decent. Fashion was anathema to me and not a priority at all when there were better ways to spend my hard earned cash. Fine, I'm cheap, but can you blame me? I'm an accountant for Christ sake; I've seen people go bankrupt for squandering their riches on such frivolities. For me, 'looking good' I had always considered the pre-occupation of fools and indulgence of the vane.
Well, I certainly changed my entire life's philosophy after an hour in our mall, and with Andrew at the helm I couldn't go wrong. I can't remember the last time I wore jeans; he had me trying on everything from casual wear to formal. Needless to say; Andrew had to literally drag me from the store kicking and screaming ... what a turn-about. I even tried to bribe the guy to return to my newfound passion. I thought about how intoxicating shopping could be, and now understood how my customers had a cash flow problem, for shopping was an addiction... almost dangerous in my case.
After everything had been done, I took a long look in the mirror and nodded approvingly at my reflection. I wore a body hugging black T-shirt that accentuated my muscular build, and over this a plain white dress-shirt, unbuttoned to the base of my ribcage and the contrast looked fabulous with my faded jeans. I could barely recognize myself. I looked younger by ten years. Andrew decided we should celebrate my metamorphoses by going out on the town and showing off the 'new me,' and I reluctantly agreed. There was only one person I wished to impress, and that was Serena, but I decided to indulge Andrew since I owed him so much.
I was expecting drinks at a small bar of sorts, but what I got was a real surprise. Andrew had dragged me off to an exclusive uptown club. Let me explain something to you all about myself; I'm quite a composed and lay back guy , and I've never really appreciated large crowds, nor do I have a taste for insanely loud music. You know the kind of nightspots I'm talking about? The ones that leave you def for weeks afterwards; so clubs were definitely at the bottom of my list of places to go.
I grimaced as Andrew and I walked straight into the world of strobe lighting, loud techno and other clichés associated with such venues, you know it's just like him to have the connections to get us inside without waiting in line. Truth be it, I was astound grateful for I just wanted to get this night done and over with.
We waltzed right up to the bar; Andrew ordered himself a shot of tequila while ordering a coke on the rocks for yours truly ... he decided that due to previous events I should be the designated driver that evening. Andrew promptly downed his shot and retreated to the dance floor. Truth be told I did not really care much. I paid for this overly valued drink and I had every intention of finishing it.
I was minding my own business, drinking my coke contentedly when I felt a peculiar tapping on my shoulder. Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned expecting it to be Andrew, but before I knew what was happening I received something entirely inappropriate and unexpected for a married man. There was a young, I couldn't in all honesty call her a woman, for she was at the very least sixteen and she sat herself as easy as you like upon my lap.
"Hey sexy ... where have you been all my life?" she inquired trying on her best at smooth sultry voice, but in reality it sounded cluttered and slurred. Plus her breath reeked something awful from too much drinking; it was that bad I had to resist the urge to throw up. She was dressed in a short blue denim skirt and black silk halter neck top that left little to the imagination and her long black hair looked slightly disheveled though her make-up was impeccably applied.
"You haven't lived long enough to know, kid." I managed to maneuver her off my lap and into the seat next to mine, knowing full well she was in no state to stand on her own two feet, especially in high-heels. She was just a goddamn kid, why do I always find myself in these situations? I'm not usually this kind, but considering I am a responsible person, I took it upon myself to help this clearly precocious child. Yes, I know you're itching to pat me on the back right about now... I must admit I'm proud of myself.
"Hey kid, give me your home number so I can call your parents to come pick you up. You're clearly unable to get there on your own ... Don't worry; I'll explain to them that you fell on my lap as the result of your drunken stupor and tried to hit on me so they don't think me some kind of pedophile. See you've nothing to worry about!" I finished with a warm smile, something I don't do all that often, and should be taken advantage of.
"Are you fucking crazy man?" She lashed out at me... You see where good deeds get you! "You want to call my parents and tell them I'm pissed drunk and pick me up ... Do you want to get me killed?" she argued while trying not to lose her balance and topple off her stool.
"No, of course not, I just think this environment isn't suitable for some one your age, and in your condition," I reasoned feeling quite pleased with how I was handling this situation.
I believed a good lecture would help her realize the error of her ways.
"What's with young girls these days? These days all they want to do is grow up before their time, and look at your face; all that make-up. Have you ever heard of the concept of natural beauty? ... My wife... now she's a natural beauty and the type of woman that doesn't need all those artificial products to make her look presentable, and neither do you," I commented looking into her dilated bloodshot eyes.
"You have a wife?" She spat... no she literally spat in my face, unintentionally mind you, but spat none the less. Completely repulsed, I wiped my face clean.
"Yes, I have a wife," I responded scowling, and raised my left hand to show her my wedding ring.
She just sat there in a state of momentary shock for a few seconds as her eyes darted back and forth from my wedding band to my face.
"So are you going to allow me to call your parents now?" I asked reaching for my cell phone.
I never got the chance, for before I knew what hit me ... she slapped me, and my tartly little nymphet gave me the coldest glare she could manage considering the fact she was practically marinated in liquor. She carefully climbed off the stool, and pulled down the hem of her black denim mini-skirt and when she thought it safe to let go of the bar she spun. And I mean she spun on her heel and skulked away into the crowd. It was a damned miracle she didn't trip over her own feet and break her pretty little neck. She was muttering under her breath, I watched her leave ... hopefully far away from me.
So I sat there in a foul mood and sipping upon my beverage. Several women attempted to converse with me, but I held up my left hand as if it were a protective shield indicating my unavailability. That certainly did the trick, for they ran faster than a man with a heat seeking missile homing in on his ass. However, Andrew was another story entirely. The only time he came back was when he wanted a refill, and then he'd quickly retreat into the crowd upon the dance floor. I was about ready to call for a cab home when I heard a familiar voice call my name, I glanced behind me to find a very attractive looking raven-haired beauty... to pacify your thoughts, she didn't hold a candle to my beautiful Serena. It was Rei... the first thing that ran through my head was 'GOD DAMN IT I'M SCREWED!' Hissing under my breath I turned to face her and forced a smile. I distinctly heard her intake of breath, but I shrugged it off.
"Darien ..." she stammered. "Why, what, I mean how?" she said struggling to regain her composure as she fidgeted before me, unable to thread a coherent sentence together. I assumed she was about to accuse me of cheating on my dear wife. I had to make it clear I wasn't, but I was at a loss. I found myself in a compromising situation, especially considering my wife was on the verge of divorcing me.
"It's not what you're thinking... I'm here with Andrew, and he needed a designated driver for the night ... so I'm it ... He forced me to come along, I swear ... I don't even like clubs, and was just about to leave, I haven't been here all that long," I was getting desperate, but I realized she was tormenting me. She just stood there wide-eyed staring at me; it was so disconcerting I almost bit my nails in tension.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she starts laughing... women and their strange reactions! Freakin' confusing.
"I'm not gonna rag you out for being here Darien, just chill. I was just surprised. You've changed your look completely. I considered you attractive before, but now... you're drop dead gorgeous!" She said and sat on the stool next to mine.
I was completely taken by surprised as I found myself sitting next to one of my wife's best friends, who just told me I was 'drop dead gorgeous,' as naturally as if she were commenting on the weather. Rei was dressed in a mother-of-pearl evening dress with a long slit descending from a rounded hip revealing her sculptured leg and I had to admit that she looked stunning.
"Excuse me," was all I could manage at that moment, and I found myself laughing whole-heartedly at the thought.
"You're hot as hell, Dare! I don't know what brought this change in you, but I'm glad. You look great!" She said with sincerity.
I took note she wasn't sliding her hand up my thigh on this occasion; her hand rested upon my forearm ... what was she doing ... she shouldn't be touching me, AT ALL!
"Serena!" I proclaimed. "You think she'll like the new look?" I solicited withdrawing my arm in an effort to remove all contact only to unconsciously make it worse when her hand fell promptly upon my thigh is it me or is this oddly familiar.
My eyes were about to leap out of their sockets. She scoffed at the sound of Serena's name, and she looked towards the dance floor not bothering to remove her hand.
"Hey, you wanna dance?" She looked back at me with hopeful eyes.
"I don't think that would be appropriate," I said, but she just grabbed my hand and dragged me off my seat. I gave up, and decided it would be okay sharing one dance with her. After all ... she was Serena's friend, so what was the harm in it and what could happen, right. She picked a spot within the circle of people moving to the rhythmic pulsations of the latest dance tracks and prepared myself to dance with her. I offered my hand, but she ignored it completely.
What she was doing I don't believe could be described as dancing ... at least not the type I was familiar with; she pressed her... shapely ass to my crotch and started grinding her rounded hips. She then took my hands in hers and wrapped them about her slim waist and continued to press herself into me. I did the only thing I could and stood as taut as a drum skin.
"Relax Darien ... this is how people dance these days, there's nothing wrong with it!" she knew my thoughts as if she could read my mind and she purred like a cat in her efforts to assuage my fears. It definitely felt wrong for the only woman I had ever been intimately close to ... dance or lovemaking was Serena. Albeit Rei and I had clothes on, but I felt naked with her dancing with me like that. I glanced quickly around me and to my surprise noticed everyone was dancing in the same manner. Sighing dejectedly, I gave in. One dance wouldn't hurt, so I mildly swayed my hips in sync with hers.
A whole half hour had passed and I was still waiting for the goddamn song to finish. What the hell was this, for the track kept on and on ... how do people keep up with this. Rei had changed positions, and was now facing me. Then the thing I least expected happened. I felt her lips planted upon my neck, moving to my ear and towards my lips!
I was too shocked to do anything about it, and allowed her to continue this seductive activity. Finally, I regained my composure after realizing how awfully close her lips were to mine and I pushed her roughly away. Not bothering to give her a second glance, I turned on my heel and left her standing there alone on the dance floor. I had had enough! I was about to step onto the carpeted steps that would take me to my seat when I felt a firm hand on my arm; it wasn't difficult for me to guess who the perpetrator was.
"Let go, Rei," I hissed in an icy tone.
"Darien. I'm not sorry I don't regret my actions for a second, and won't apologize for trying to kiss you. I've wanted to do that for quite some time now ... Serena doesn't deserve you," she exclaimed looking at me with her dark yes, something that could never compare to Serena's brighter ones.
Where was all this coming from; she felt no shame for making a pass at her best friends husband... quite the little home wrecker, isn't she!
"Oh, and you do?" I quipped in a slightly amused tone that belied my annoyance.
It would be interesting to let her try to convince me she's far more alluring than my adorable and luscious wife! Whom I adore!
"The simple fact is; I appreciate you far more than she does," She pleaded desperately, her attempt to sell her virtues as a replacement for Serena only drove me towards Serena more than before if that were possible. I extricated myself from her possessive grip and proceeded to give her a dressing down, but not the undressing she desired.
"Look Rei, do yourself a favor and hold onto your remaining dignity, for Christ sake! Look at you; you're only belittling yourself for a man who won't ever have any feelings for you that go beyond strictly platonic. Whatever you're feeling towards me are unrequited. I love Serena with everything I've got ... my mind; body and soul belong to her alone, end of discussion. So let it go, and find someone who does find you sexually appealing because I can't, I'm sorry, but I see you only as Serena's friend ... nothing more!" I hollered at her.
She stood there before me with tears sliding down her cheeks. Part of me felt guilty for tearing strips off her, but I also felt a great sense of relief. Perhaps now she'd realize the futility of trying to win my heart. I didn't stick around to listen to any further protestations, I turned on my heel and left her standing there and moved swiftly towards the exit and called a cab. I was determined to win back my wife now more than ever. Even if it was the last thing I did, and little distractions like Rei weren't going to stop me.
So as they say at the Olympic Games: 'let the games begin' ... and I am going to win gold.