20/8/04

Clarisse was and already up and working by the time I got out of bed, she was filling out papers, replying to letters of congratulations and signing important documents. I walked into her office at about 10:30am after showering and sat in a chair opposite her. She didn't seem to notice me until her ladies maids left the room to give us some privacy.

"Oh hello," she smiled, pulling off her glasses, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just came to see you, wish you a good morning, give you these…"

I handed her a dozen roses, eleven real, one fake.

"Thankyou my darling, but what's the occasion?"

"I just wanted to show you how much I love you."

She blushed and smelt the flowers, then took a good look at them, "Joseph I think you've been swindled! There's a plastic one in here."

Smiling, I prepared to make my cheesy statement, "Clarisse, I will love you until the last rose dies."

Her eyes went into thinking mode as she analysed what I said, then she smiled and whispered, "That is so sweet, thankyou."

Kissing her softly I felt an overwhelming urge to take her right there on the desk, but instead I smiled lovingly and mentally cursed myself.

"Are you busy?" My lovely wife asked.

"Not at present."

"Good then," she said picking up a pile of small gift cards and placing them in front of me, as well as a clipboard, "You can help me write thankyou notes to all of the people who bought us wedding gifts."

I pulled my chair closer to the desk and observed the two hundred odd gift cards, "We have to thank all of these people?"

"Of course we do, one cannot simply receive a gift and not thank the person who bought it, it shows a lack of gratitude!"

Picking up a card, I started to read, it was addressed to Mia and Andrew on account of the fact that they were supposed to get married instead of Clarisse and I.

Clarisse and I, that sounds so nice, I can't believe she finally married me after so many years…hmm…

Anyway, since it was addressed to them, I asked Clarisse why we were the ones who had to reply, she said it was because the gifts became our gifts. According to the list of gifts and who they were from that Clarisse had made, I was thanking somebody for a set of bath towels. The next few gifts on the list were bath towels as well! And the next few after that. Honestly, who the hell needs forty sets of bath towels? The fact that they were all white, except three, made the gifts even more superfluous than they already were. Oh well, it's the thought that counts. Most of the presents on the list had something to do with the bathroom, there were salts, bombs, bubble baths and would you believe, two shower nozzles.

My favourite of all the gifts we received was a small box. There's nothing particularly special about the box, it's just an ordinary light purple wooden box with two non-identical locks and keys (one key for me, one for Clarisse). The meaning behind the box is what makes it special, you're supposed to put it on a shelf in your bedroom and write messages on pieces of paper to put in it. The messages are supposed to describe your feelings, thoughts and emotions. Every night you're supposed to take the box from the shelf, sit on the bed with your partner and read what the other has written. The box can only be opened if both key holders are present. The box is supposed to help prevent couples from drifting apart, I think it's the best idea ever, Clarisse claims not to understand the meaning of it. When I told her my thoughts about it she said it would probably cause a significant increase of my female hormones and she would have full rights to declare me a woman. I can't help it if I'm more emotional than her, she just doesn't understand me.

Clarisse tried to convince me she didn't know who it came from, but I sense she does. I have absolutely no idea who could have sent it, but whoever it was, I'd like to thank them.

Anyway, back to this morning…

After we wrote 185 thankyou notes to people we either didn't know, or didn't like, my dear wife informed me that we were to have a portrait painted of the two of us together. Rather late of her to tell me at the last minute, she said she told me yesterday but I don't remember.

A professional painter called Pietre Leisare came to paint us, but he hasn't finished yet, it still needs colour, but it should be done by tomorrow morning. The pose he put Clarisse and I in was a very boring one, much like the one of she and Rupert hanging in the throne room, except it was me standing behind her, not him. According to Clarisse the painting isn't supposed to be interesting, it just has to show us in a royal state. She chose to pose in a sort of dull pink suit and made me wear a black one, I don't think the portrait will turn out nice, I should ask the man to re-paint one in the pose of my choosing.

Paintings aside, Clarisse and I used "the box" about an hour ago. I wrote a few things during the day, mainly, 'My legs are sore,' which referred to the portrait posing, 'Stop trying to seduce me,' enough said and, 'I want to talk." I'm not sure if they're the sort of feelings you're supposed to express, but it's just the beginning, I'm sure we'll figure it out soon. Clarisse laughed at the first two little notes I had written when we sat down to read them, but for the third one she didn't say anything, she just nodded and asked me not to read what she had written.

Despite her unwillingness to comply, I lifted the pink card and started to read, "I feel confused and puzzled as to what I should write for this, however I know it's important to you so I'll just write how I'm feeling right now. I'm glad we married, I'm glad everybody approved and I'm glad we've stayed together through good times and bad. I feel proud to have you as my husband as well as lucky. I'm so happy we sorted things out. Is that what I'm supposed to write?"

Lowering the letter I looked at her and smiled, "Yes, that's exactly what you were supposed to write, thankyou."

I allowed myself to kiss her softly and soon found myself groping her chest and attempting to lie her down on the bed, we were rudely interrupted by Amelia knocking on the door, "Joe? Are you in there?"

Clarisse attempted to ignore her granddaughter and pulled me on top of her, but the knocking sound really irritated me, "Yes princess."

"Oh, okay, can you come to the door please?"

I rolled off a red-faced Clarisse and listened to her whisper, "Joseph, why did you have to tell her we were in here? I was enjoying the intimacy."

"Clarisse, we have our whole lives to be intimate, can't it just wait a minute?"

She rolled her eyes and I got up to answer the door, "Good evening my dear," I said to Mia.

"Hey Joe. I was just wondering," she started before looking at Clarisse and biting her lip, "I was just wondering…"

"Wondering what, princess?"

Mia looked at Clarisse again and lowered her voice so only I could hear, "Could we go somewhere and talk privately? I have something on my mind and I can't talk about it in front of grandma yet and-"

"Of course we can go somewhere and talk, just give me a minute?"

Walking over to the bed, I told my wife that I was needed and she seemed a little jealous and annoyed. When Mia and I walked out the door, Clarisse had her arms crossed and was frowning slightly, I didn't know what to make of it.

I took Mia by the arm and started walking down the hallway towards the stairs, then I asked her what the problem was, but she wouldn't tell me until we were in private.

To cut a long and very, very boring story short, Mia was telling me about her plans for Nicholas - she wants to marry him, but he isn't anywhere to be found. She asked me to find him for her, but I declined and said I'd send out a search party. I just don't have the energy to find him myself, I'd rather spend my newfound personal time with my wife, admiring her beauty as she works…hmm.

Clarisse isn't allowed to know about Mia's plan to find Nicholas until he's found and engaged to her, I think Mia just doesn't want her to see that she's heartbroken or something like that, I don't know.

Anyway, when I finally got back to Clarisse, she was really pissed off. Her arms were still crossed and she was sitting up in bed with a book in her lap, "You certainly took your time."

"Did I?" I asked, removing my jacket.

"A suspicious fifteen minutes," she said, book marking a page and placing it on the bedside table.

"Suspicious?"

"You were with my granddaughter for fifteen minutes, what did you do in those fifteen minutes?"

"We talked, I can't tell you what about, but we talked."

Her eyes were on me as I removed most of my clothes and hopped into bed, "You just talked?"

"Yes, we just talked."

I put my arm around her and went to kiss her, but she didn't let me, "What do you think we did?"

Clarisse didn't reply to that, she just turned off the lamp and went to sleep. I don't know what her problem with me talking to her granddaughter is, perhaps she's jealous that I left her alone when talking to Mia? I find it hard to understand women sometimes, especially Clarisse, but I'm not going to dwell on it, I'm just going to finish up here and go to bed.

21/8/04

Well today was certainly a day of great annoyance.

First of all, Clarisse wasn't there when I woke up.

Second, she wasn't in her office when I looked for her.

And third, when I found her sitting in the library, she wasn't alone. She was with her good old friend…Chester.

The two were startled when I walked dumbfoundedly into the room, Clarisse sat pretending to smile at me as she secretly tried to hide a few tears in her eyes. Chester, or as I call him 'he', stood from his chair and held his hand out to me, "I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced to one-another. I'm-"

"I know who you are, another one of my wife's ex-lovers."

He pretended to laugh, but quickly said, "Yes and you're the man who finally snagged the woman of every man's dreams, especially mine."

Clarisse wiped her eyes and stood up, "Chester, would you please excuse us for a moment?"

He nodded and Clarisse dragged me out of the room, "What's he doing here?" I asked.

"He showed up this morning and told me he needed to talk."

"Oh so when he wants to talk it's fine, but when I try-"

"Joseph don't start!"

"What did he want to talk about?"

"You and I."

"Why? Is he jealous? Did he come here to break us up? To turn you against me? I noticed you were crying."

"I was crying because he was bringing up bad memories from the past."

"What sort of bad memories?"

"Rupert's and my wedding day, the time I fell off the back of his motorcycle-"

"What!"

"I don't want to go into detail now. I just want you to promise that while he's here you'll be civil. I don't want you two to argue about who I rightfully belong to, I don't want you to squabble, or get into a fight am I understood?"

"But what's he doing here?"

"I don't know exactly…"

It turns out he came just to make me look bad in front of Clarisse.

Seriously.

It all started at lunch…

We were sitting at a small square table in the garden, he sat opposite me, Clarisse sat on my right and Mia on my left. We began eating our lunch and making light conversation, but everything went downhill when he decided to kick his own chair. Everyone paused as they heard the small screech of the chair along the ground and they immediately looked at me as if I was the one who did it!

No less than two seconds after we resumed eating, he did it again, "Joseph are you having trouble controlling your body?" Clarisse asked.

"I didn't do it," I said bluntly.

He kicked his chair again and grinned evilly at me, while Clarisse and Mia stared in my direction, "I didn't do it!"

"Joseph, if you can't settle, then I think you should leave."

"I told you I didn't do anything!"

"Keep your voice down," she whispered rather loudly.

Chester leaned towards her and said, "It's alright, I'm sure he didn't mean it, he's just feeling a sense of unease."

I couldn't believe he would kick his own chair and then make some ass-kissing comment. He is so immature.

He stopped after that and I couldn't help but wonder what was going through Mia's head. I wonder if she knows who he is, who he really is. She's met him before, but I don't think she knows that he's the one who popped her grandmother's cherry, or that he's been in prison for whatever it is he did – I still haven't been told, but I think it was drugs. To Mia he's just a friend of her grandmother's, nothing more. If only she knew…

When dessert came, I looked under the table I pulled up the tablecloth because I thought I heard something under there, and to my horror, I saw his hand rubbing Clarisse's left knee – the one that was closest to me. I think what he was trying to do was make it seem like it was my hand touching her. I got so angry, but I kept myself calm enough to discreetly place a fork on my lap ready to stab his hand with it if I saw it touching her again. I waited long enough to make it not seem suspicious, then I grabbed the fork and thrust it as hard as I could into his skin. The sound of a woman screaming made me realise Chester had moved his hand by then and I'd accidentally stabbed my wife's leg instead.

She screamed, boy did she scream.

It must have hurt pretty bad because there was quite a lot of blood. Clarisse was so angry with me, she had to be cleaned up and bandaged, she's (by choice) refrained from walking for the next two days, so she's using a wheelchair and deliberately keeps crashing into my legs with it. She can't understand why I inflicted pain on her for no reason, nor can she forget it. I tried to tell her it wasn't my fault, I tried to tell her the truth but she wouldn't believe me.

Chester's sucking up to her more than he was before, he scored a lot of brownie points with her today, enough to score an invitation to an evening drink.

At 8pm Clarisse was in the shower on a special "cripple shower stool" and I was commanded to stay outside the bathroom door so she could yell at me some more while she bathed. I was silent the whole time, I didn't mean to shove that fork into her, but she just wouldn't understand so I didn't bother trying to explain, I just took all the shit she yelled at me.

During her shower, I heard a knock at the main door and opened it. HE was standing there with a large bottle of wine and a wicked grin on his face, "You're a very bad boy, Joey."

My muscles tightened when he used that name, but I once again had to control my anger. He handed the bottle to me and sat down on the sofa, "I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?" I asked.

"Clarisse. She never wanted to get married, never wanted children, at least that's what she told me. Now look at her, two kids, one of which is deceased, she's on her second husband, claims to be in love, but I just can't see it."

I walked over to the armchair and sat down, "You think I'm not good enough for her?"

"I don't think you're her type."

"What is her type?"

Letting out a long breath, he scratched his head, "Rich, powerful, well groomed, classy. She was destined for greatness. I'm surprised she picked you, really I am, Clarisse despises men with facial hair. Didn't you notice Rupert was always clean-shaven?"

"I never thought about it."

Chester took a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it, then relaxed back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, "So where did this all come from? How long have you two been together?"

"We've been on and off for approximately five years."

"Is that all?"

"I think it's a long time to not be married to someone."

He blew a large cloud of smoke into the air and sighed, "Do you love her?"

"Very much."

"And she feels the same way?"

"Well obviously she wouldn't have asked me to marry her if she didn't."

"So she's never actually said it then?"

"She has, infact, quite a few times. Look I fail to see where any of this questioning is leading."

He took a puff of his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray, "I just want to know if it's true, if she's actually found love."

"She has and I'd thank you not to interfere."

Closing his eyes, he faked a smile, "You know I used to think she was too heartless to love anyone, but it turns out she just couldn't love me."

The bathroom door opened and Clarisse (still yelling at me) wheeled out with a white towel wrapped around her. She saw her old friend and faked a smile, "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd be here so early. Joseph, get Chester a drink will you? I need to dress."

I stood and cleared my throat, while Clarisse wheeled into her dressing room.

"Scotch," he grumbled as he rose from his chair, "God she looks good in a towel."

That remark angered me somewhat, I mean, Clarisse is my wife! Mine! It was nothing compared to what he said next, "Of course, she looks even better without."

My hands shook with rage as I poured his drink, and they continued to shake when he told me he enjoyed fondling her breasts at Clarisse's birthday party last year. I was so close to hitting him then, so close I had to swallow some ice cubes to cool me down. They didn't help because he wound me up some more and I couldn't restrain myself – I just jumped right on him and started thrashing my fists hard into his chest. I think he wanted me to attack him, I think he wanted Clarisse to come out and scream at me some more, I think that was his plan all along, to get in her good books and make me look bad. I hate him I really do.

Luckily for me I didn't cause too much damage and he agreed to keep quiet about my assaulting him, I think Clarisse must have asked him to be discreet. It wouldn't look too good for the press to see me attack a man after only a few days of marriage.

Anyway, as I was beating him, Clarisse screamed at me and told me to stop, but he was laughing so I kept hurting him until I got tired and stormed into the bedroom. Fourty minutes passed and Clarisse came in and told me to, "Get the fuck out."

It was the first time I'd ever heard her say that word, she spoke it quickly and stared evilly as I stood from the seat by the window.

"Clarisse-"

She raised an eyebrow as if she was interested in what I had to say.

"He was saying things about you."

Her hand flew up to silence me, "Joseph I asked one thing of you today and that was to be civil, yet you acted like a child, inflicted severe pain on me, fired up an argument with my oldest friend and when you got angry you violently attacked him."

"Because he-"

"I don't want someone like that sleeping in the same bed as me, you can find somewhere else to spend the night."

"If you'd just listen to me then perhaps you'd understand."

"There's nothing you can possibly say to me to excuse your behaviour, now will you please respect my wishes and leave."

I realised trying to reason with her was pointless so I left and am now back in my old room. It should only be for tonight, Clarisse seems to be making a habit of going to bed angry with me and waking up feeling sweet and caring. I wish she would believe me over him, she may have known him for longer but it doesn't mean he's not a liar. God I wish he would just die and go to hell.

OMG! Finally updated it! Sorry I've been really busy cos I've got a real job now and work really long hours. I'll try to post more often in future.

R & R!