Chapter 8

Nina awoke hours later to realize what she had done. She didn't exactly remember how it happened all that mattered was that it did. All she knew was that she was so upset from having a quarrel with Mort all she wanted was to be comforted. Jess showed up at her door moments after Mort left that pervious afternoon. The hope that it would be Mort was overwhelming, but when she opened the door to see Jess, she wasn't in any position to dismiss him.

But when looked over to see Jess lying in the bed beside her she was beside herself with regret. At that moment she felt like throwing her hands over her eyes and crying. She wished it had been Mort who returned to her, but life wasn't always that kind. For it if were Mort she would have fallen into his arms the same way she fell into Jess's. If it were Mort he would be the one to lay beside her when she would have woken up to hours later.

"Hey, babe." Jess said when he woke up. "Thanks for making my night." Nina didn't reply. If only it were possible with her guilt ripping apart her heart, she wanted to forget that this ever happened.

"I knew you were missing me." Jess continued to say. Nina found herself feeling as if she were in hell. She sat up on the bed staring at the ceiling thinking of how she longed for Mort. Jess went on about their relationship letting every ignorant thought he had fly out of his mouth. Nina continued to stare at the ceiling and tuned him out the best she could.

Just then she hear a knock at the door. Nina's heart seemed to leap into her throat. She was terrified to see how would show up at her door at twelve o' clock at night. Nina immediately sprung up from the bed and headed to the door.

"Make a sandwich while you're up!" Jess said in his I-acting-like-I'm-asking-you-but-really-I'm-telling-you voice. Nina walked out of the bedroom closing the door behind her. She was almost to the door when she realized she was in her underwear. As quick as she could she ran back into the bedroom search for something to put on. On the chair between her dresser and full length mirror she spotted a short silk bathrobe.

She immediately grabbed it and pulled it around herself and tied it together. Just as she began to head back out of the room she caught her reflection in the mirror. She was disgusted with what she saw. Her once lovely reflection had become unbearable to look at. The guilt she had been writing all over her face. She couldn't look at herself for more than a few seconds before she ran out of the room.

She made sure the bedroom door was shut as she made her way across the living room. She didn't bother to look to see who it was before opening the door for she had kept them waiting long enough. She held tightly on the robe as she slowly opened the door. All of the sudden she was overcome with such mortification that her worse nightmare had come true.

"What are you doing here, Mort?" Nina asked. It was the first thing that came to her mind she barely had time to think of why she asked. She already knew that by him showing up at her door meant he loved her in return. And of course to beg for her apology which wouldn't take long because she was ready to forgive. If only she waited a few more hours.

He stood there at a lost for words for a moment when she suddenly felt the urge to snog him. But something told her to wait until he said something. She wanted to wait until he got out what he wanted to say, but he remained silent. She knew that when he finally put his words together for a heartfelt apology her eyes would tear up and they would finally confess their love for each other.

Of course life isn't always that kind. Nina heard the heart wrenching sound of the bedroom door closing. She had let herself forget for an instant that she was in no doubt still in hell. She didn't have to turn her head to see that Jess had come out of the bedroom.

"What is he doing here?" Mort asked.

"Mort, you gave me a fright." Nina replied. She could sense the pain in his voice. And just like that the tears started flowing.

"I asked you what is he doing here!" Mort asked enraged by the sight of Jess. Before Nina could answer Mort stormed down the hall.

"Mort!" Nina called as she quickly followed behind him. Luckily he stopped at the stairs.

"What are you doing with him Nina?! Are you trying to push me away?"

"No—."

"Your throwing your life away Nina! He's no good. And you deserve better then some punk who treats you like shit and only comes around when he wants to sleep with you."

"Mort please--let me explain--."

"No! I can't take it anymore, Nina . . . I'm don't with it. I'm done trying to convince you that he's no good for you." Mort turned away from Nina and started down the stairs. Nina's tears came down uncontrollably down her cheeks. But just then Mort stopped. He stood on the stairs silently for a moment. Without looking at Nina he stretched out his arm towards her with the envelope in his hands.

"Here . . . take this. I want you to have it." Mort said trying his hardest not to turn and hold Nina in his arms. Nina could tell he didn't want to look at her. She couldn't blame him. She was so ashamed with herself she couldn't even stand to see her own reflection.

"No . . . Mort . . . I can't—."

"Just take it!" Nina slowly reached for the envelope. As soon as she put her hands on it she wanted to pull her hands back. She couldn't accept anything Mort wanted to give her, but it was too late Mort had already let go. She looked down at the envelope crying more than ever now. She ripped it open. When she saw the money her heart sank. She glanced up to thank Mort, but he was gone. She held the money against her chest.

Mort was already near his car by the time Nina realized he wasn't standing on the stairs. He quickly got into his car and drove down the street. He really wished he just stayed home tonight at least he wouldn't have to witness Nina with Jess. He couldn't help but wonder which event was worse; discovering his wife and her lover at a cheap motel or tonight. Tonight made him feel even more melancholy then before due to the fact that he let history repeat itself.

The thought of Jess touching Nina made Mort sick to his stomach. Mort quickly put the thought out of his mind as he drove further down the road. By the time he reached his house he was utterly exhausted and regretted leaving his house an hour ago. He parked the car and walked in a gloomy and dead feeling state to his living room. He lay down on the couch facing the fireplace.

He thought of how he missed that sensual and innocent girl that was Nina. The way she smiled at him when he entered the room. The way she laughed when she was happy. The way her hair smelt when he held her close. And the way she made his heart light up even when he was having a bad day. But he found the more he thought about Nina to more he wanted to forgive her.

Mort awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He was glad to have awoken just in time as his dream from the other night continued. As Marta came closer she slowly pulled out a knife from her robe. Mort turned to face his house. Marta was now close enough that he could feel her breathe down his neck. Quicker than a bullet fired out of a gun, Marta pierced the knife through Mort's skin.

Even though he could not feel any pain in the dream he screamed in agony. Suddenly he heard something that sounded more ear piercing then his screams. As Marta continued to stab him he managed find what making such an irritating sound. He could hear Marta laughing in enjoyment as she repeatedly stabbed him in his back. Blood poured out from his back he could feel it soaking through his clothes. The pain he knew was unbearable and if he didn't get anyway he would surely face his fate with death.

It was then he noticed, sitting on the coffee table, the phone that had been making the strange noise. He hurried to answer it. Marta jumped on his back as Mort struggled to get away. Suddenly his legs felt like jello and he collapsed on the floor. Even though he was loosing so much blood he continued his way towards the phone that was now on the floor a few feet in front of him. He stretched out his arm as far as he could, but he could not reach the receiver.

The phone kept ringing and Marta proceeded to stab him. He used all his might to crawl to the phone. It felt as if he were swimming his way through a pool of blood to the phone which seemed to finally be in reach. His hand was just above the receiver ready to pick it up when his eyes opened.

"Hello." Mort answered roughly, not quite awake yet. At the same time he was greatly relieved to be alive and out of such an horribly vivid dream.

"Hey, Mort."

"Christine?"

"Yes. It's me . . ."

"How are you?" Mort said rubbing his eyes.

"I'm good. I thought I'd call before I got on the plane to let you know I was on my way." replied Christine. Mort pulled the phone away from his mouth as he yawned. He sat up on the couch still not quite awake nor asleep, he put the phone back to his ear.

"Thank you that's very nice of you. What time do you think you'll be here?"

"Oh . . . I'd say around noon . . . I also wanted to know if you were picking me up at the airport."

"Oh, yea sure I can't do that. Why didn't you just ask sooner?"

"Well Mort I tried calling you in the past three days, but your harder to get to then the president." Christine joked. Mort laughed politely. He found no humor in it considering where he's been the past three days.

"Anyway I have to go there calling for take off . . . I love you . . . bye." Christine said.

"Bye." Mort replied. Christine hung up. She seemed to be in a hurry so maybe she didn't realize he didn't say 'I love you' back. She did hang up quite fast she only gave Mort time to utter one word.

He hung up the phone and stood up off the couch. The airport was quite a long drive so he would have to start soon considering there might be traffic along the way. He took notice of the time to see it was only eight-thirty. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Christine why he hasn't been taking her calls. Perhaps the usual I unplugged the phone because I was writing excuse.

He quickly got his keys and headed out the door. He got in his car and drove down the driveway. As he rode passed Marta's place he couldn't help but think of how exciting it was to spend the passed few days with her. It had been so long since Mort was truly intimate with someone. To have Marta show him that his life wasn't completely pointless and opened his eyes to more possibilities was more then he could have ever asked for. For that he would always be grateful to her.

But before he could see her again he needed to tell Christine how he truly felt. It was be the hardest thing he would ever have to do breaking Christine's heart. All she did was love him and in the end Mort never loved her back. A part of him would always know why. It all started after Amy disappeared and suddenly everyone around Mort was leaving him.

Not only had the entire town turn on him but his old friend and editor decided not to do business with Mort any longer due to his new reputation. And just like that Mort started to look for a new editor. Mort was a pretty well known author but that didn't stop people from turning him down for the job. It seemed like no one wanted to be hired by Mort. All the local papers with the new of four missing people didn't help much either.

Finally Mort found this small publishing company just outside of New York that would be more then willing to do business with famous author Mort Rainey. It wasn't like Mort to go for a small company due to how much money he was getting for books these days but anything was better then nothing at the point.

He called the company up and was to meet with his new editor. He arrived there at exactly at one o' clock. He entered the building and walked through the small lobby where there a large desk sat in the middle of the room. At the desk was an old woman who was typing on the computer with her glasses down at the end of her nose. Mort approached the desk.

"Excuse me." Mort said getting the women's attention.

"I'm here to meet with Mr. Smith." Mort said.

"You must be Mort Rainey." she said with a bit of enthusiasm. "Follow me." She led the way as she got out from behind the desk and they both headed down to hall. As they turned the corner Mort as graceful as he is didn't notice one of the employees who happened to be carrying a lot of papers and they collided into one another.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry!" Mort said helping her pick up her things.

"Its alright." the women replied. Mort gathered her things as quickly as he could. He didn't realize that when he looked up he would see the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen put together with long blond hair. There was an obvious psychical and mutual attraction when their eyes met.

"Uht-um." coughed the old women. "Mr. Rainey Mr. Smith does not like to be kept waiting."

They kept eye contact as they stood up. Mort couldn't help but smile. The women kindly returned the smile. Mort watched her as she headed down the hallway. When she was out of sight Mort noticed the old woman was already half way down the hallway in the opposite direction. He picked up his pace a little to catch up.

His memory was a little vague of meeting Mr. Smith but who could forget the large round man with his cheeto fingers and the armpit stains shirts. Not exactly sticking to that new diet their pal?

"Mr. Rainey. It's a pleasure to be doing business with you, I'm Mr. Smith." he said reaching out his hand not bothering to get up from his seat. Mort leaned over the desk to shake the man's plump hand. Seriously I went from being one of the most well respected authors in the country to this.

"Please have a seat." he said in his rough old voice referring to one of the two brown leather seats in front of his desk. Mort hesitated before taking a seat. His seats looked quite old he wasn't sure what condition they were in, being to be polite, Mort sat down. Surely enough, the seat seemed to sag down more then usual when he sat in it.

He rambled on about God knows what after Mort politely declined a cup of coffee. All Mort could remember was smelling this fowl smell coming from the hallway. Man how that place reeked. Just as Mort began thinking of ways to escape she walked in. The hot blonde he met in the hallway. Not the most romantic ways to meet someone.

"Ahh, Miss Ross I want you to meet Mr. Rainey. He's going to be doing business with us." said the old man. Mort quickly stood up to greet her. The second their hands touched Mort felt his stomach doing back flips.

"It's nice to meet you again, Mr. Rainey." she said.

"The pleasure is all mine." Mort replied continuing to shake her hand. She politely let go of his hand and turned towards the old man.

"I would like you to get Mort situated and give him anything he asks for." said the old man.

"Yes, you can follow me Mr. Rainey." she said then walked out of the room, Mort following closely behind her. They walked to the end of the hallway passed where they had their collision earlier and to the very last door on the left.

"You can have a seat, Mr. Rainey." she said as they entered the office. Mort didn't hesitate to take a seat for the room looked nothing like the old man's. In fact it was completely modern and had a fresh feeling to it. And the smell wasn't bad either . . . Coco Chantal if he was not mistaken.

That should have been the first sign for Mort to stay away. She always preferred the most luxurious things like designer clothes which wasn't a bad thing considering she looked good wearing it. At the same time she was quite conservative and probably never did anything wrong in her entire life; two things of which Mort wasn't. He never would buy something from Prada, but he has committed so many sins it was hard to keep track.

She asked him many questions that only took about ten minutes that she typed into the computer. Mort mostly stared at her thin lips as she typed. She hardly looked at Mort, but when she did she always had a smile on her face. Her smiled was so warm and inviting that Mort couldn't help but smile back.

"Okay Mr. Rainey thank you for your time. I will contact you in a few days to go over some book details." she said smiling.

"Thank you very much, Miss Ross, was it?" Mort said as they both stood up to shake hands.

"Yes that's correct Mr. Rainey."

"Oh please call me Mort. And I want to apologize again for earlier in the hallway."

"Oh that's okay." she seemed to hesitate before saying his name. "Mort, your not the first man I've fallen for." she joked.

Mort ran his hand through his hair laughing. "That's good to know."

"I'm looking forward to be doing business with you." she said sincerely.

"I believe the feelings are mutual."

"Goodbye." she paused again but for a shorter time. "Mort."

"Goodbye, Miss Ross." That was the last thing he said before he left. He wasn't sure when she was going to call usually when people say they'll it takes a week or two before they get around to it. But to his surprise she called him the very next day. They met at a casual restaurant that Mort could tell that people only went there to have lunch with clients.

They talked for three hours about absolutely anything that wasn't too personal. For the majority of the time Christine talked about her three sisters. Before they knew it lunch turned into a dinner and Mort insisted they go to this Italian restaurant not too far away. The romantic atmosphere had turned the entire evening around and got Christine thinking less about business and more about being romantic which was exactly what Mort wanted.

"Don't Mort." Christine said rejecting his kiss. The was just about over as he tried giving her a goodnight kiss before she stepped into the cab. Mort backed away from her confused and a little offended. "It's not that I don't like you . . . it's--."

"The whole client thing."

"Yea." She replied.

"Okay . . . goodnight, Miss Moss." Mort said as he opened the door to the cab for her. She silently got into the cab. Mort closed the door behind her. He watched the cab drive down the street. The cab stopped at the end of the street and sat there for a few moments. In a perfect story this would be the part that she'd get out of the cab, run down the street, and kiss Mort passionately on the lips.

But as the cab continued down the street, Mort knew his life was far from perfect. At that moment he realized she wasn't wearing her coat that she was wearing until she had taken it off when they were seated in the restaurant. Mort quickly went back and found he coat still in the same table they sat just ten minutes ago. As he exited the restaurant for the second time that night he couldn't help but wonder if Christine would turn back to get it. When will she realize she was without her coat?

Mort waited in front of the restaurant what seemed like twenty minutes. Oh, I'll just give it to her the next time we meet. With that he walked down a few blocks remaining in the same gloomy state he was in when she rejected his kiss. At the end of the street he looked up to see a sign in a window to an all night bar. Suddenly a drink or two didn't sound so bad. But having been an alcoholic he decided to go in.

He remembered it all too well the state of being thirsty all hours of the day. Spending night and day wishing he had something to drink. Nothing seemed to satisfy his thirst like alcohol did. Even the smell of it made him thirsty. Mort sat down at the bar and ordered a shot of Jack Daniels. Old Jack. It helped Mort get through many of bad times. But like a good drink it was there many of good times as well.

He raised his glass and brought it to his lips. But before he could take a sip he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Mort turned around to see who it was. When he saw that beautiful face he wasn't so thirsty anymore.

"Hi." he said happily.

"Hi. I was on my way home when I drove passed a clothing store when I realized I had forgotten my coat. So I had the cab turn around and I saw you walk in here. So now I'm here and I see that you have my coat." she said taking a seat in the stool next to him.

"Yea I thought I'd take it with me since it looked so good on you I thought it be the same on me." Mort joked.

"And?"

"And I think I've made a terrible mistake. You can have it back." Mort replied.

"Thank you, Mort for going back and getting it for me. It's my favorite Roberto Cavalli coat." she said take it from Mort.

"Roberto Cavalli, huh. I like his ravioli."

Christine laughed. "Roberto Cavalli is an Italian fashion designer." Mort knew very well who he was. Amy bought a pair of his shoes when they went to New York he thought he would have to pull out a second mortgage on the house. Women and their desire for expensive possessions. But lucky he had made a bad joke in front of Christine that she found to be charming which lead her to have second thoughts about how she almost ended the night.

They talked for a few moments longer then exited the bar after Mort paid for his untouched glass of whiskey. When they were outside Mort noticed the cab was still there. Christine turned to Mort and said,

"Thanks again, Mort."

"It's no problem, Miss Moss." he replied. Slowly she came closer towards Mort. As if he were frozen in place he stood there awaiting her kiss. She leaned forward and finally their lips touched. Mort wrapped his arms around her waist and she placed hers on his chest. And just like that Mort found himself in a relationship. It wasn't long before Christine started working at another publishing company in New York. Not only was it more successful but Christine didn't feel ashamed for dating her client anymore.

Things kind of progressed from there. And if you think this was a longer story it's an even longer story how Christine came to want to move in. The short version is that she finally discovered that when Mort is writing a story that is basically the only thing he thinks about. When he's writing he always sat at his computer and never paid much attention to anything going on in world around him. He would completely isolate himself from society by unplugging his phone and going on a all corn diet.

Christine came over one day and found Mort typing on his computer not even noticing she entered the house much like he did that day she brought him breakfast. But this time was much worse. It wasn't until she got up the stairs when Mort finally noticed she was there. He didn't spring up from his seat he only smiled at her and continued typing. Christine waited a moment as he finished his thoughts.

"Just wanted to get that chapter done." he said closing his computer.

Christine nodded. She was used to authors like this. Although she never dated one she always respected them because they worked hard for the money they earned. Plus they always kept up their contract and were done with the story the time they needed to be. But dating an author of this sort of dedication was a different story.

"I'm glad to see that you're working hard, but I thought maybe you'd want to take a break for a few hours--."

"Oh! I forgot to save!" Mort said opening his computer back up. He pulled up his document and clicked the save button. "Man that was close." he turned back to Christine. "What were you saying?"

Christine looked at him sternly. This was not the first time Mort ignored her or blew her off to spend time writing his story. She had no idea what he could be writing. He never showed her and he never published anything after that rewrite of his novel Secret Window. She loved him but how could she live being second best to his work?

"Nothing. I'll just leave you to your work." she said turning away.

"Wait!" Mort called after her. "Why are you leaving?" he asked now standing away from his desk.

"I don't know why I even bothered to come here." she immediately replied.

"Well don't hold back tell me how you really feel." replied Mort sarcastically.

"That is how I really feel . . . I hate that you're always working and not being my boyfriend."

Mort looked down at his feet. She was right in the sense that he was always working, however did she ever stop to think that maybe that was the way he made his living? He couldn't help but feel a strong sense of déjà vu. Of course! This is almost exactly what happened with Amy except Amy never had the balls to confront him about it. No. She preferred to sleep with other men. For that he respected Christine. He had to give her props--she had balls.

"I'm so sorry." he said hugging her. "Is that Chanel?" he asked smelling a whiff of her perfume. She giggled slightly.

"You know what that stuff does to me." he said leaning in closer towards her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he caressed her soft skin with his lips. She loved the way he kissed her neck so much that she sighed at the mere thought of it. Her heart seemed to be between her ears as it beated faster then it ever had in her life. He never touched her like this. She wanted to be intimate in the very way two people are intimate with each other. Only she was very nervous by the fact she never given herself to anyone completely.

She trembled when their lips touch. She has been kissed by many men before, but not like the way Mort kissed her. His kiss was filled with unbearable desire to give into the pleasure and the love that she finally realized he shared for her. She certainly hoped that Mort would take the next step and just lift her up into the bedroom where he would make passionate love to her. The first time had done it was at her prom with her date which turned out to be quite awkward and nothing like either of them expected.

And it ended with a used condom stuck to her hair while being kept awake half the night from listening to her drunk date regurgitate i the bathroom next to the bed. It was undoubtedly the worst night of her life. But she dare not let it ruin her moment with Mort. This was it. Finally she would have the night she was craving for the very night of her prom. And this time no alcohol was involved.

To her disappointment Mort did not make that move she deeply anticipated. His kisses even began to lesson as her passion for him grew stronger. Her feelings for him were so intense she thought it better to take it upon herself to take their relationship to the next level. Mort broke from her embrace backing away from her as if he were just going to go back to typing on his computer. He seemed tense.

"Is everything alright?" she asked concerned. Little did she know of the heartache Mort just suffered almost a year ago. Finding his wife in bed with another man had such a dramatic effect on him he never thought he'd be able to write another story again. That was until he found new inspiration in a young woman.

Even though he would never admit to Christine of the affection he had for another he found her so irresistible he was willing to forget about his infidelity. Not being able to be close to her made him feel miserable. It was like kissing Christine was making his love for her a lie. Of course the girl he had feelings for was Nina. It wasn't until the night he discovered Jess and Nina together that he realized that she was more to him then just a girl he buys coffee from.

"Everything's fine." he said walking back over to her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. As they kissed they slowly moved towards the bedroom. Finally Christine will have everything she was so eager to fulfill. As Mort laid her down on the bed she pulled on his clothes bringing him down over top of her. Mort couldn't get out of his head how attractive Christine is and the fear that she would suspect his interest in Nina.

Hours later Christine was sound asleep beside him. Mort lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He thought of Nina and how it made him feel so exultant to know that every time he mentioned Christine she always seemed to get slight jealousy. It soon became the only real reason why he was with Christine. If only he knew what was to come. That in the end Nina would chose to be with Jess. Nina also had a significant other that made Mort feel the way Nina felt when he talked about Christine. With all the sexual tension being built up inside him he needed a release.

He was trapped in a relationship while longing for another. At the same time he found Christine incredibly breathtaking and sexy. He knew by the way she acted today that he was loosing her. Mort was unbelievably selfish to think if he lost Christine he wouldn't have a chance with Nina. There was no way a sweet and beautiful like Nina would ever fall for Mort.

"Hey." Christine said roughly as she woke up. She rolled over to Mort placing her head on his shoulder. "I think it would be so nice to live here."

Mort was silent. What did she mean by that? It was completely random yet Mort thought as if he should have expecting Christine to want to push their relationship even further. She was always the one to make the first move. And like the driven career women she was she was always in control.

"Oh you don't want to live here it's nothing, but a broken old cabin . . . wouldn't you be happier in a mansion somewhere?" As soon as the words left his mouth he immediately knew he said the wrong thing. She sat up on the bed her face completely upset and offended.

"Is that what you think of me Mort?" she asked. "You think of me as some spoiled rich girl?"

"No—of course not." Mort quickly replied. "I was just joking that's all." But telling her it was joke only made her even more upset with him. She got up off the bed with the sheets wrapped around her naked body.

"Well it sure sounds like that's what you think of me . . . I mean you don't even appreciate me the way you used to. I had to practically force you off the computer to even acknowledge that I was here." As hard as it was to believe she was right. He should have never mistaken her for a fool. This was his chance to think of something genuine to say.

"I'm sorry but ever since I met you . . . I never felt so inspired before in my life. You mean everything to me." he said. Christine's expressions went from angry to affectionate in one swift moment. As they hugged Mort whispered into her ear that he would be honored if she'd move in with him. Frankly he was terrified of her moving in, but he couldn't let her go just yet.

Even now as he sat in his car on the way to the airport he thought of that moment when he wished he just kept his mouth shut the second she complimented his house. It wasn't surprising that she took his humor offensively. They hardly went a day without getting into a quarrel over the simplest of things. But for the first time in almost a year Mort bought a pack of cigarettes. It sat in the empty passenger seat next to him as he waited at the stop light.

He had them ever since he left the gas station not far from his house. Every once and awhile he'd glance at them, but quickly turn away telling himself he didn't need them. When he did the same tragedy that drove him to buy the cigarettes made the idea of consuming the toxic substance even more appetizing. Mort never touched them.

As soon as the light turned green Mort stepped on the gas and headed further down the road. About a half hour ago he turned off the highway onto a road he knew would only take him forty- five minutes to get to the airport instead of the original two hours. Once again he glanced down at the pack of cigarettes and quickly turned his attention back the road. They seemed to be tempting him with every desire he once had for cigarettes.

The way the air filled with smoke as he took in the addicting aroma. He used to sit at his computer and smoke as he typed the best he had ever wrote. He tried everything from a pencil to a straw to replace the feeling of holding something in his hand during his thought process of his writing. Not to mention the taste of smoke filling his lungs. That bitter taste of tobacco and its essence. He flirted with the thirst of alcohol, but he'll always remember how he ached for a cigarette.

For they've always been there through the rough and the good times. They were there when Amy had her first miscarriage. Hell, they were even there helping him through divorce. After many years of trying to quit as Amy told him repeatedly he would drive himself to an early death. Although death never depressed Mort, he couldn't help but quit for the hope of one day to witness his child being born. It never happened and cigarettes became the only thing he could trust. Why would he ever want to quit?

Mort pulled the car over to the side of the road. He sat there letting himself decide for a few minutes if he should. As he glanced down at the pack of cigarettes they seemed to be looking at him with a longing for him to smoke the shit out of one of them. It was then he realized that he needed them again. He couldn't live any longer with a broken heart and the sooner he drives himself to death the better. With that he grabbed the pack of cigarettes and pulled on the top of the box until it opened, but suddenly stopped himself.

Imagining the many delectable white deaths that was just a rip away he couldn't help, but wonder if this was truly what he wanted. Nina had confronted him with the reason of his affair was to break up a marriage that was prefect and he jumped at the chance to fuck that up. Mort knew this wasn't in any way the entire truth. If only she knew the reason he felt so incline to cheat in the first place she would not have said such a thing. Yet Mort couldn't escape the feeling of regret. Taking a cigarette would only bring him back to the same cycle he'd been running for more then ten years.

Mort turned back onto the road tossing the pack of cigarettes out the window. In his rear-a-view- mirror he could see them hitting the ground on the side of the road. Mort kept driving forward smiling to himself of what he was able to overcome. He no longer gave into the temptation. He was a free man. Free to drive the streets and not have a secret desire to smoke a cigarette. His had them so many times over the years to practically guarantee his lungs were slowly rotting away enough without their help.

As he continued down the road he took one more glimpse in his rear-a-view-mirror. The pack of cigarettes turned into another insignificant memory in his mind. The road ahead of him was long--very long. About forty minutes before he would reach the airport. Part of him wanted to turn the car around and go back for the cigarettes. That part of him felt as if he dumped his best friend on the side of the road. Suddenly he began to feel less vindicated and more trapped.

But Mort wasn't going to break--no. I'm not turning back, he thought to himself as he pressed down harder on the gas peddle. The moved faster as he continued forward down the road. But that part of him that wanted them screamed in his mind to turn back. The last thing he could needed was another reason to turn around. The thoughts of Nina and Jess haunted his mind. Why should have give up something if she doesn't do the same for him?

All she did was pry her nose into his business and give him brainless advice about what she thought was the right thing to do. At the same time she was the one messing around with Jess behind his back. And Mort was the one hating himself for showing up at her doorstep that night. Not to mention the news he had to break to Christine. The remorse ate him up inside.

Fuck them, he thought as he made a hard U-turn. He pressed down as hard as he could on the gas until he could see the pack of cigarettes in sight. He slowed to a stop on the side of the road a few feet away from the cigarettes. Mort quickly got out of his car. He walked over the pack of cigarettes and sat down. With a rapid force he opened the box and pulled out one single white cigarette. Setting the box down beside him he lite up the cigarette. By the side of the deserted road he smoked.

Inhaling the dry smoke into his mouth then slowly exhaling it relaxed him. He finally just released himself from the reality of the situation and just relaxed. After twenty minutes or so he was done with the entire cigarette. He stood up and tossed the cigarette butt on the ground. With the tip of his shoe he crushed against the pavement. Placing the rest of the cigarettes into his pocket her opened the car door and got in.

"Mort!" Christine called as she jumped up from her seat. She immediately ran over to him and greeted him with an immense embrace. For a long while her arms were wrapped around his neck. She seemed not to want to let go. As he held her in his arms his mind was elsewhere. The memory of Marta's heavy breathing against his neck as he penetrated her on the bathroom counter flashed through his mind like a bad dream.

"We're you smoking?" asked still hugging him.

"No . . . must be secondhand smoke." Mort replied. He wasn't sure if she fell for it or not. He couldn't see her face yet he could tell by her silence she didn't believe him.

"I got you something." she said slowly pulling away. She knelt down on the floor and opened her Prada suitcase. When she stood back up to face Mort she was holding in her hands a brown paper bag. She pulled out a square figure wrapped in bubble wrap and handed it to Mort. Mort took the present from her and held it in his hands for a moment.

"Well . . . aren't you going to open it?" she asked anxiously awaiting his reaction. Mort slowly unwrapped the bubble wrap around the unknown object. As he unwrapped it he began to notice its familiar and significant purpose. Before it even half way unwrapped a smile appeared across Mort's face. Christine smiled simply because she knew from his expression she did something right. Mort continued the unwrapped the present letting the bubble wrap fall to the floor when he was done.

Mort looked down at his hands admiring the book he held in his hands. He was ecstatic by the sight of the novel he's been so eagerly waiting for. The novel in which he held in his hands was by a new German novelist and writer named Edward Eaton. Mort read a previous novel by the author called, In the Dead of the Night. Mort was hooked. A sequel to the book was expected to come out until few months from now, but here it was sitting in his hands.

"What you think?" she asked hoping he would verbally praise her for her efforts. "It's the first published copy of Edward Eaton's Evening Rising."

"I love it!" Mort replied thanking Christine with a hug. Christine couldn't stop smiling. She loved seeing him happy. She jumped at the chance to make him happy when one of her friends (who is also a book editor) told her he was working on the new Edward Eaton novel. And as a favor he snagged the first published copy for Christine with no other cost then an IOU. It was months before the book was set to be released into bookstores around the world. But it was worth the rush.

Mort carried her luggage as they exited the terminal. Christine held to Mort's hand as they passed through the crowd. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the airport. He moved so swiftly though the throng of people that Christine had trouble keeping up. She didn't resist him she only followed him. By the time she mustered the courage to tell him to slow down they reached the doors.

Mort down and released her hand. They walked at a comfortable pace to the car. She could still smell the smoke on his clothes--she hated that smell. As much as she loved Mort and believed he would never lie to her she couldn't help, but wonder if he was in fact lying to her. And she wondered exactly why he was lying about something that was so obvious. It wasn't like Mort to lie to her like this especially about something so sickening.

When they neared the car Mort pushed the button on the keys to unlock it. As Christine climbed into the passenger seat, Mort placed her belongings into the back of the car. He slammed the back door shut and got into the driver's seat. Christine was fixing her make-up when he started the car. She quickly put it away as he began to back out of the parking lot. In a few short they reached the highway. It was so quiet in the car they only thing they could hear was the sound of the car on the road.

Mort stared straight ahead. He was so ashamed of himself he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Christine bought him a gift she knew would please him. It proved that she cared a great deal for Mort. And all he did was lie to her. Not ten minutes ago he lied about smoking. He never meant to be dishonest. The guilt inside him made him answer no before his mind could catch it with his mouth. He regretted not telling her the truth about smoking, but he could tell by her tone of voice she wasn't happy with the idea.

Still Mort kept quiet. How was he to break the news to her now that she bought him such an extravagant gift? Nevertheless he knew he had to tell her. The guilt would only build up inside him and he would never be rid of it. It wasn't fair to Christine. She deserved someone who would spoil her with lavish gifts, someone loyal and trustworthy. All Mort needed now was the courage to break up with her.

He figured the best place would be at his house. Yes. As soon as they arrived at the house he would tell her. Although she would probably be very upset with him and he would risk getting psychically injured. Just about anywhere would make her upset. Maybe over dinner he would talk to her rationally and break up with her calmly. She wouldn't draw attention to the situation that way. It would give her some time to think it over and possibly be less angry with him by the time they drove home.

"We should go out tonight to celebrate." Christine suggested as well as breaking the silence.

"Okay." Mort agreed.

"Can we go back to your place first, I would like to shower first?" she asked.

"Sure." Mort said. He could only manage to get one word each time she spoke to him after that. It was then he wondered when the courage to tell her was going to come.

They arrived at the house an hour later and still unable to strike up a conversation that Mort spoke more then just one word at a time. Christine was completely unaware of his feelings of resentment. The resentment he felt towards Nina for falling into the same trap he tried so long to pull her out of. He felt fury for Jess who was ungrateful to have the love from someone as beautiful as Nina. But most of all he had hatred towards himself for sleeping with another woman while Christine preparing the most incredible gift for him.

As they made their way onto the porch Mort thought of exactly what he would be risking telling Christine about Marta. He wasn't sure he wanted to be with Marta. Marta didn't seem to have any plans to break up with her husband. Even though it was eating Mort up inside that he was deceitful he couldn't tell Christine. He could only expect the worst if he went through with the situation. Nonetheless he would have to live with the fact that he cheated.

Mort handed Christine the keys and she unlocked the front door. Mort followed her inside when she opened the door. She placed the keys on the coffee table then took off her designer jacket. Mort placed her luggage near the door. They stood in silence for a moment just glancing at different objects around the room. Just then another unwanted memory flashed through his head of Marta and Mort making out under the threshold of the door the same afternoon they made love in the bathroom of a restaurant he swore never to enter.

"Okay, well I'll just go take that shower now." Christine said after a long awkward silence. Mort quickly glanced up at her face. She was smiling at him even though he did nothing to make her smile at. I can't even breath a word to her for Christ sake.

Mort watched as she climbed up the stairs and disappeared into the bedroom. When he heard the door shut he immediately walked over to the couch. He grabbed his hair and pulled it tightly between his fingers. For a moment he thought he was going to pull all strands of hair from of his head. Mort paced back and forth in the space between the coffee table and couch. The guilt would drive him made if he didn't find a way to confine it.

He couldn't get the thoughts of Marta's beautiful wet cunt out of his mind. And the aching sensation he felt between his legs when they were together. The thought of how Marta loved it when he did it to her hard his lustful appetite for her peaked at such a high rate he'd do anything to inside her again. He only passionate yet sinful remembrances of her. At the same time he loathed himself for it. He would never be able to live with himself if he kept these thoughts in his mind.

Suddenly he felt as if her were on a abnormally fast marry-go-round and everything was spiraling out of control. Mort sat down on the couch hoping to keep his head from spinning. An awful dizziness made his stomach woozy. He lay his head down on one of the throw pillows and made himself comfortable on the couch. Closing his eyes he hoped the nauseous feeling would go away.

"Mort!" he heard Christine call. "Mort!"

Mort opened his eyes and sat up on the couch. Christine was standing at the top of the stair with nothing covering her expect a large white towel.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to step in the shower." she said. Mort knew he didn't exactly smell the best so he decided to take a shower. Besides the fact the last one he had taken was in Marta's grand bathroom at her beachouse. Mort stood up and walked over to the stairs. He kept eye contact with Christine as he walked up the stairs. When he reached the top she reached her hand out and stroked his cheek. Mort reached up and touched her hand softly.

She pulled her hand away smiling as if nothing was wrong. Mort couldn't return the smile. He only stared down at his feet as he entered the bedroom. He entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. Christine had entered the room and started brushing her hair in front of the mirror over his dresser. Mort undressed beside the bed. Christine could see his naked body in the reflection of the mirror. She continued the brush her hair acting as if she didn't notice his well hung body.

She continued to watch him as he walked into the bathroom shutting the door behind him. She stopped brushing her hair and moved onto clothes. She needed to look her best when Mort got of the shower so she slide on her new jade green V-neck Vera Wang dress. She needed to do her make-up to complete the look. She sat on the bed gathering everything she needed when something caught her eye.

Mort dumped clothes on the bed and left them there. What a slop, she thought as she walked around to the other side of the bed. She could still hear the water from the shower running so she decided to pick up after Mort. She picked up the shirt and held it out in front of her. She didn't recognize the shirt when he picked her up and she certainly didn't recognize it now. It must be new. Perhaps he bought it while she was away. That was the only possibility since she was gone for three days. On the other hand Mort rarely went out shopping for food let alone for clothes.

As suspicious as it was she ignored her thoughts about the shirt. Just then she noticed an unusually large and very unknown lump in the pocket of his pants. She tossed the shirt back on the bed and brought the pants closer towards her. She raised the pants up and shook them letting everything in the pockets to fall onto the bed. She was shocked at what she saw escape from the pockets; a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. She was suddenly overcome with furiousness. Her first instinct was to run into the bathroom and scream at Mort for lying to her. It wasn't like Mort to lie.

Perhaps she didn't know Mort as well as she thought she did. But if he was in fact struggling with such a life threatening addiction she needed to be more sensitive and supportive than aggravated. Christine thought of the night when they were together in this very bedroom when Mort said he needed to tell her something and again when they were on the phone while she was busy getting drunk at her surprise promotion party. She felt so contrite her eyes started to water. How could she have been so selfish not to let him tell her something so important?

She wiped off the salty tears from her eyes with her fingers. She decided she wouldn't confront Mort about the cigarettes. Instead she would wait until he thought it was the right time to tell her. And the next the opportunity presented itself when he built up the courage to tell her she would listen. She stuffed the cigarettes back into the pocket of the pants.

After she composer herself enough to stop the tears she walked back over to her make-up bag. As she was laying the foundation on her face she spotted something else on the bed. She put down the make-up and walked around to the other side of the bed. She searched the bed for the small shinny object she thought she seen. Suddenly she found it; a pearl drop earring with gold and diamond accents.

The earring looked very expensive and elegant that made Christine's heart melt. It certainly wasn't any earring Christine owned and she owned some costly earring, but nothing like this. The earring was so extraordinary it didn't look like something one would wear regularly. Its purpose was much more sophisticated then that.

The question Christine kept asking herself was how Mort came to be in possession of something so stunning? Did it fall out onto the bed along with the cigarettes or was already there? And lastly, whose earring was it?

Christine didn't know what to do. Should she ask Mort about it or should she just ignore it? But she didn't need anymore evidence. Mort wasn't as faithful to her as she thought. He didn't sound thrilled by the news of her promotion on the phone and it seemed like everyone, but Mort was celebrating. Every time she tried to call him after that he never answered. Then again today on the drive home he seemed less then thrilled to have her home and he barely spoke a word to her.

Was it possible that he was somewhere else with someone else?

But who? Christine pondered the question for a short while before she realized she already knew. Nina. Yes it must have been Nina. She was the only women Mort ever talked about. And he was always driving to Starbucks every day sometimes twice a day. No one likes coffee that much, Christine thought holding back her tears. Christine had to consider the fact that she was so much younger than Mort. What could they possibly have in common?

But Christine knew better. Man left their wives and girlfriends everyday for someone hotter and younger. And they didn't need to have something in common if the man's intentions were more than intellectual and more sexual. Never in a million years would Nina be able to afford the earrings Christine held up in front of her. Just like that possibility of Mort sleeping with Nina put a knife through Christine's heart.