La Douleur Exquise
By Melanie J. Tomas
Copyright 2012 Melanie J. Tomas
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Prologue
“The thing that has always fascinated me most about people is how they make their decisions. Do they do it based upon their heads or their hearts? Me, personally, I’m a heart girl. And it’s gotten me into a fair amount of trouble over the years. But alas, the heart wants what the heart wants.”
My name is Sophia Elizabeth Winters, and I’m a loveaholic.
Chapter 1 - Sophia
Sophia was, at best, an average woman. Nothing in particular stood out about her. When she was very young, she asked her mother if she was beautiful, and her mother replied “Well, Sophia my love, its all a matter of comparison.” And that was a message she held onto throughout her life.
She had always thought her life was a movie she was watching, rather than actually participating in. It wasn’t that her life was bad. No. To the contrary, her life was actually… perfect. She had everything anyone could want: a husband who loved her, a good relationship both with her parents and her siblings, a home, a stable life.
Somehow, though, she was never quite able to “bridge the gap” as she called it. Sophia kept pretty much everyone at arm’s length. She didn’t do it on purpose. It was simply the way she was. Never get too attached to anyone of anything, because everything is temporary – life, love, all of it.
When she was in college, a friend’s boyfriend had said she had “a mysterious way” about her. Then when a couple of weeks later he suggested she join him and his girlfriend for a threesome, so his opinion went right out the window with the bathwater.
Men were such peculiar beings, so physical in nature that they rarely appreciated the subtle nuances that made each woman unique and special. It was a shame to consider how many of them focused merely on the outward appearance and gave so very little regard to what mattered.
She had always imagined her life would turn out quite differently. When she was young, she imagined she would live in New York when she was old enough; perhaps in the Village somewhere, in a small but chic studio. She would dress all in black, maybe even wear a beret, and go sit down at one of the local coffee shops. She would order a ridiculously expensive coffee, sit, watch people, and possibly write some poetry.
But that dream never came true. As with the rest of life, the best-laid plans are often not seen to fruition.
As she sat in her car outside Rhapsody Publishing she glanced at her watch. It was 10:45 am. Her appointment with the publisher wasn’t until 11:00, so she had a few very restless minutes to wait.
Glancing in the mirror, she checked her dark, shoulder-length hair one more time, running her fingers through it. She reached into her bag and took out a lip-gloss, coating her lips until they shone.
Pursing her now-gleaming lips, she cast herself a sexy glance in the rear-view mirror and laughed. She was no sex kitten; in fact she had never felt beautiful at all, that is… until Dorian. He had made her feel like she was the most desirable woman in the world. At least for a time.
She looked up again at her reflection, this time seeing only sadness. The mention of his name still made her wince.
She shook the thought from her head. No, not today. Today she needed all her wits about her if she wanted to nail this interview. It had been a forgotten dream, lost in the commotion of everyday life for a while. And now she stood at the very edge of it, almost close enough to touch.
It seemed almost surreal to think of everything that had happened, everything that brought her to this very moment in time. She would not let anyone or anything ruin this moment for her. She had worked far too hard and been through far too much to have it spoiled now.
It hadn’t started out like that, of course. In the beginning she had been able to keep her emotions in check. She constantly reminded herself that this was to be only a temporary thing, that she should keep her heart out of it, put away safely from harm’s way, and just revel in the physical aspect of the relationship. That somehow it would be enough.
But along the twisted road of their torrid 8-month affair, something had changed. She had changed. He had become her obsession, her reason for waking up in the morning, the reason she would wake up in the middle of the night, aching for his touch, the sound of his voice. The way he spoke, full of elegance and grace. He was her perfect match, or so she thought.
The problem was, she really wasn’t his perfect match. She was a thing to him; a fantasy that had only one purpose. And while the knowledge of this should have brought her some sort of peace, all it did was make her angry with herself for having permitted such a thing to happen.
She had allowed herself to be used, to be treated as an object, and now she had to pay the price for it. So who was really to blame? Perhaps there was more than enough to go around.
Since the beginning of time, it seemed, there had always been countless gurus and saints who agreed upon one thing; that happiness is a state of mind. That if you truly believed and had enough faith, you could actually will something into existence, simply because it was established in your mind’s eye already.
Sophia believed that this was most likely true, but never quite managed to attain that pinnacle of achievement. It was as if her brain acted independently, with little or no regard to her heart or body. It was a selfish, stubborn creature that appeared to be no more than a child in rationale. Unfortunately, it was the only one she had, and it was important that she keep trying.
Sophia realized she was gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Giving herself a moment to ease the tension in her hands, she saw the sunlight glinting off her charm bracelet.
It had been a gift for completing her novel. She looked down at it lovingly, turning her wrist to and fro to revel in the bracelet’s sparkle. It was a simple moment, a simple act, as if the world was saying “It’s all right… you can move on now.”
Raising her other hand, she lovingly touched the little heart charm with her fingertips. She sighed, a deep, contented sigh. Her only motivation now was that today she would finally be able to tell her story; that other women would read it and relate to it and say, “That’s me. That’s the same way I feel.”
Even so, she was haunted by the faint suspicion that she was, in fact, the only person who had ever known this pain. She knew this wasn’t really the case. Everyone had felt the sting of rejection at some time.
A friend of hers had put it quite well when he said, “You always hope you look the same in someone else’s eyes as you think you do.” But the stone cold truth remained: You don’t.
Sophia checked the time again. 10:53 am. Popping a breath mint into her mouth, she checked her hair one last time and grabbed the final revision of “Serendipity.” She could hardly believe that this was it. She was finally going to be a published author.
The folder felt leaden in her hands. So much had gone into this. So many people’s lives, so much joy, so much pain. Clasping the final result of her labor tightly against her chest, Sophia opened the door, stepped out of her car, and headed for the doors on the front of the building.
Today she was the most empowered woman in the world. Today she would tell the world her story
Chapter 2 - The Perfect Couple
Sophia and David had met around Thanksgiving. Fall in New England was absolutely breathtaking that time of year. A kaleidoscope of bright yellows and oranges lit up the trees welcoming the harvest.
She and David had been together for a good 5 years now. Their relationship was comfortable, the kind of comfort that is achieved only through time and familiarity. The kind of comfort that lets you pee with the bathroom door open or walk around naked without reservation.
It was a balanced and healthy life, she supposed. And other than the fact that she was bored out of her mind, she should have been happy. The American dream seemed to have landed right in her lap. She had found a good man in David, and she knew it. He wasn’t one of those types who went out with the boys after work to tie one on. No, not David. He came straight home to her. He never raised a hand against her. He was kind and considerate.
His unwavering belief in what she liked to refer to as “the system” always astounded her. The system was thus: Boy meets girl. Boy marries girl. Boy and girl have 2.5 children and live a long and healthy life together. The end.
How anyone could be satisfied with that mediocrity, she would never understand. But it was a good life. And her complaints, at least any worth mentioning, were virtually nonexistent.
His skin was a light brown, light enough that had it been seen during the days of slavery, he definitely would have “passed”. He looked like someone who spent his days on a yacht on the Mediterranean Sea, surrounded by “the beautiful people”, sun-kissed by gentle breezes and a carefree life, with the beginnings of a beautiful summer tan.
Yet he kept it year-round. His dark hair he wore cropped short, almost buzzed, and it suited him perfectly. He had striking bone structure, and probably could have done some modeling in his youth, had he had even the slightest inclination towards that sort of thing.
His gaze might have seemed brooding, were it not for the kindness shining from them. And they were kind, indeed. His laugh lines were indescribably endearing, and those around him invariably enjoyed the pleasure of his company.
Such a sweet man surely deserved a sweet woman. And Sophia, while she was many things, wasn’t sweet. Oh, she tried to be. But you can’t change what’s in your DNA.
David was a software consultant who traveled several times a week, at least. Sometimes these trips were just short overnights, while others meant his leaving the state and being gone 4 or 5 days at a time.
Sophia never minded being alone. Her father had been in the military; so moving was never a big deal for her, either. In fact, she rather preferred it. The opportunity to reinvent herself with every new location was like an exciting game.
And she had played every role from Goth to cheerleader back in her high school days. She was never one of those kids who complained about having to leave their friends. It was simply the way things were. Half the people she met she didn’t really care for anyway, so packing up, saying good-bye, and never seeing them again was easy enough. She never considered herself to be cold-hearted or callous; merely accepting of the fact that the only constant is change.
David simply couldn’t wrap his head around that fact. Her lack of concern when it came to changes of any kind puzzled him. He was so family-oriented. For him, the thought of not being near family and friends was the stuff of nightmares.
Sophia often laughed about their differences in that area. He strove to get her to understand the importance of having roots, although she always dismissed the idea when the subject was brought up.
So when they purchased their home on Briarwood Lane, he made sure it had everything she could possibly want in a house. A three-car garage, a spacious deck off the back, 4 bedrooms, a finished basement, and, of course, the icing on the cake; a pool for those hot summer days.
The house was beautiful indeed, a large colonial set on roughly three acres. It was sizeable enough to be noticed, but not to the point of seeming ostentatious.
That was, perhaps, Sophia’s favorite thing about the house. He gave her carte blanche at her favorite furniture store, and with the help of an interior designer, soon the house looked like it came straight out of a catalog. Romantic, comfortable, and most importantly, lived-in.
Happily, there was a local farmers’ market only a mile and a half away, Sophia had always liked the idea of going to one. This one offered an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables just waiting to be taken home and tossed together in some magical union of flavors. For someone with such an extensive imagination, one would have thought she would surely be a culinary genius, but that wasn’t the case. Her skills in the kitchen were, to put it gently, somewhat lacking. It was both a blessing and a curse, just like everything else in her life; a cosmic joke.
Rolling her trusty Schwinn bicycle out of the garage, she swung a leg over and struck out for the farmers’ market, a blue backpack slung over her shoulder, all of this a part of her carefully designed domesticity. Nobody could say she wasn’t trying.
Once at the market, she wandered up and down the aisles, occasionally sampling a strawberry here, a grape there. Popping a lovely, plump blueberry into her mouth, she checked the small list of items she would need for tonight.
The vendors were all politely friendly, if somewhat standoffish due to her being new to the community, with the exception of one. An older man sporting a rather impressively long, haphazardly trimmed beard and a tie-dyed t-shirt with the words “Got Worms?” emblazoned across it in large white letters greeted her heartily, and said “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
She nodded, smiling as if facing the prospect of dental work. The man boomed “My name’s Bill. You can call me Bill.” He stuck his hand out to her, and she shook it, because it seemed the only thing to do if she didn’t want to seem unfriendly.
He said, “If you have any questions about any of my produce, you just feel free to ask. I’ll tell you anything.” He wasn’t kidding. Without pausing to take a breath, he burst forth into nonstop information giving, before she could even ask a question, had she wanted to.
Enthusiastically, Bill remarked “You can’t get those worms from just anywhere, you know. They don’t poop right. I know, I know. Who’d ever have thought that worm poop was good or bad? Turns out there’s a real big difference. You got your regular red earthworms. Did you know earthworms aren’t male and female? Nope. Danged if they’re not hermaphrodites. They reproduce by masturbating. You can’t make that up. If that don’t beat all… Well, anyways, regular red earthworms break down compost, but the outcome isn’t much to write home about. Then there are night crawlers. Those suckers are bigger. Some folks mistake ‘em for garter snakes. I don’t know why they do. Even big earthworms don’t have stripes from head to tail. And night crawlers give you better soil, but still, to get the quality and flavor in your produce like I want, you got to order your Canadian night crawlers. That’s a bit pricey to start with, but if you put ‘em in a mix of high-quality compost and rabbit pellets, yes ma’am, rabbit pellets like comes out of rabbits, you will get the best quality growing soil known to man. Radishes this tasty don’t come from just any old earthworm poop, you know. No, the secret is in Canadian night crawlers and Flemish Giant rabbits. This is one hundred percent organic, and you won’t find tastier radishes anywhere.”
Smiling wanly, she gingerly picked up a bunch of the radishes and put it into her shopping basket. She wondered if she’d actually ever be able to eat them without gagging at the thought of their source of flavor. Well, that remained to be seen. Note to self: Stay away from worm guy.
This sort of thing happened only to Sophia.
Into her basket went a small bunch of fresh basil and two giant garlic cloves, this time from a less informative vendor. She couldn’t resist inhaling their tantalizing aromas. Conveniently close to the produce stand was a cheese vendor. She added 2 pounds of fresh mozzarella still slightly damp and wrapped in delicate cheesecloth, to her basket of treasures. The combined smells were absolutely heavenly, and Sophia could hardly wait to get her purchases home and take them all out of her bag to admire the beauty of all of this bounty.
She chose two large heads of romaine lettuce and a few carrots to the growing weight of her bag. Feeling rather righteous for purchasing fresh local organic foods, she added two large chocolate chip cookies on a whim. She and David would enjoy them for dessert tonight. Sophia knew she was actually need to take the long way home if she were to have any hope at all of burning off the calories from what was going to prove to be a high-carb, high-sugar, and highly delicious meal.
It was a glorious day outside, one of those days when there is something expectant in the air, when it feels that just about anything could happen. So, of course, it did. Unbeknownst to Sophia, her entire life was about to change. A virtual juggernaut was about to enter her world and turn it upside down.
Transferring her purchases into her backpack, she put it on her back, mounted her bicycle, and pedaled homewards. Navigating the side streets, legs pumping like she was going for the win in the Tour de France, by the time she had worked up a decent sweat, she was turning onto her street. Pleased with herself, she slowed down, coasting up to her driveway. Letters and catalogs were sticking out of the mailbox, the little red flag no longer sticking upright as if to say: you’ve got mail!
Looking back on that moment, Sophia often wished she had just left the damn mail that day, but she hadn’t.
Reaching into the box to retrieve the profusion of correspondence, Sophia looked up and saw a man approaching.
”I think you dropped this.” He smiled and
handed her the engraved leather key fold containing her house keys.
The initials S.E.W. had been carefully monogrammed to personalize
this little token David had surprised her with when they purchased
the home.
“Oh no! They must have fallen out of my pocket. Thank you. I tell you, I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached!” Had she actually just heard herself blurt out that corny line? Sophia’s mind raced as she thought about how terrible she must look, all sweaty from her ride. Thank goodness for scented antiperspirant. At least she didn’t smell bad. She wasn’t wearing a bit of makeup, and was absolutely certain there were poppy seeds from this morning’s bagel stuck between her teeth. Even with a thorough brushing, those little buggers stuck like glue. She tried to position herself so the wind wasn’t blowing against her backpack, hoping the smell of cheese wasn’t permeating the air around her.
“No problem” he said. Oh God, she didn’t want to smile, but this man was simply gorgeous. Sophia tipped her head back just a bit to look into his face, and what she saw took her breath away.
He was easily over 6 feet tall, with short, dark blonde hair showing just a hint of natural curl. And those eyes! They were green with flecks of amber dancing in the irises. Beautiful. This man looked like he must surely have fallen from the sky and landed in front of her. It fleetingly crossed Sophia’s mind that she should check his back for wings when he turned to go.
Instead of leaving, he just continued to smile, either oblivious to or amused by her lack of social graces.
“So I finally get to meet the new neighbors. I’m Dorian. I live a couple of houses down.” He pointed down the street to a lovely little bungalow. Sophia immediately looked over his shoulder, soaking in every detail of the house.
“Yes, er, hi. I’m Sophia. I moved in a couple of weeks ago.” Well, wasn’t she just the mistress of stating the obvious? Of course he already knew this. Sophia wondered why she had said, “I moved in” instead of “we moved in”, but was quickly sidetracked again by his face. So… beautiful.
“Well, see you around.” He flashed her a quick smile. His teeth were crooked. Oh dear Lord. How Sophia loved a set of crooked teeth. She had never figured out exactly why she did, but she had always found that particular imperfection very endearing. She had noticed that people who had such a flaw, however minor, would often smile with their mouths closed, but not Dorian. No. His smile was wide and bright, and for the first time in many years, Sophia felt a little flutter in her heart. It felt as though a tiny butterfly had come to land there and tickle her.
“Yeah, see you.” Sophia smiled back. She couldn’t help herself, poppy seeds in her teeth or not, this man made her want to continue to embarrass herself with further awkward conversation. She bit down on her lower lip, a habit she had when she was turned on and didn’t quite know what to do with the energy of it. She only allowed herself to do it for a moment, though; hoping he wouldn’t notice that her face was flushed and it had nothing to do with the bicycle ride home.
If he did notice, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he merely raised a quizzical eyebrow, and seemed to be almost delighted by the situation. After a brief, awkward silence, Sophia blushed and said, “Uh, I should probably get going.” She turned to look towards her front door and then back at him. “Thanks so much again for bringing me my keys. You’re a life saver.” She stammered again as if she had some sort of mental disorder. This was falling apart quickly. Sophia found that as much as she wanted him to go away, she wanted to stay and chat with him some more. “Oh…hey…ummmmmm…actually, we’re going to have a party soon. Kind of a “get to know the neighbors kind of thingy. You should come.” Her heart raced at the lie. Well, it wasn’t technically a lie. David was all about having parties and getting to know people in the area. “It’s safer that way. Plus, it’s good to be social”, he would say.
“Sounds good. Let me know.” And with that, he turned and began to walk back down the street.
Sophia couldn’t help it. She watched him leave. He was a large man overall, a virtual giant compared to her, but he seemed so gentle in all his mannerisms. His gait was light, his voice soft and soothing, the sort of voice in which one would talk to a child. Then there was the matter of his hands. Sophia had a thing for hands as well, and this man had perfectly manicured nails… and nice, long fingers. She was lost for a moment, thinking about those hands. She wondered…
Shaking her head to clear it of the somewhat devious thoughts that followed, she dismounted her bike, returning it to its place in the garage, her knees shaking and her face still flush. With her head in the clouds, she stumbled when her shoelace snagged on the kickstand. Landing on her right knee, she muttered a word that would require her to put a quarter in the “swear jar” in the pantry. Brushing herself off, she rose as gracefully as she could and went through the garage door into the kitchen.
As she entered the home, Sophia hoped none of her neighbors had seen the interaction, for some reason. While everyone had nice big lawns and plenty of room for privacy, she sensed prying eyes everywhere. That’s just how people are. They’re curious. They can’t help it when someone new comes around. Once the “shiny” has worn off, though, unless there’s some new scandal, they generally wouldn’t pay a bit of attention to you.
Opening the door into the house, she placed the mail on the credenza in the foyer for David to inspect. She never opened the mail. That was for David, and besides, she didn’t really care about the mail anyway, unless it was a birthday card.
She went into the bathroom to check her teeth, thankful when she saw no evidence of food between them. As she climbed the stairs to change clothes,
Sophia stopped in front of the full-length mirror and critically eyed her appearance. Her body was coming along nicely. The Pilates, the bike rides, and the sit-ups were giving her body a nice, trim shape; not perfect, but acceptable. Even covered in sweat, she didn’t look too bad, and with her hair tied back, she actually looked a few years younger.
“Dorian”, she murmured. Hmm... Sophia had never had a “hot” neighbor before. She tried to shake off the thought. That sort of thing only happened in stupid romance novels, and her life was definitely NOT a novel.
Throwing her clothes into the laundry basket and starting a nice, steamy shower, her mind drifted back to the stranger. Stepping into the water, she tried to put the image of him out of her head, and began to shampoo her hair. She wasn’t going to get caught up in some silly high school daydream about a man she’d just met. That was ridiculous. Rinsing out the rich lather, she then thoughtfully worked conditioner through to the ends of her hair, combing it with her fingers. After a couple of minutes, she closed her eyes and let the warm water run over her, soothing her muscles. When she felt relaxed enough, she gave herself and her hair a final rinse.
Sophia stepped out of the shower and onto the bath mat, wrapping herself in a thick white towel, and her hair in a second towel. Wandering into the bedroom, she turned on the radio and began to dry herself. As she turned towards her dresser, she peeked between the curtains of her bedroom window.
She could just make out the little house down the street. She couldn’t tell which room he was in; but the sun still shone bright, so there were no lights on to indicate his whereabouts. Besides, she didn’t know what, exactly, she would do with that information anyway. She thought, “Who cares what room he’s in?” Sophia laughed at herself. She really needed to find more things to do to occupy her time while she looked for a job. Spying on the neighbors was simply not going to cut it.
After a couple of minutes with the blow dryer, she gave her slightly damp hair a twist and put it up in a clip at the back of her head. Throwing on a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, she headed downstairs.
Glancing at the kitchen clock, she realized it was later in the day than she had imagined. Time had a tendency to slip away from her when she wasn’t paying attention. She had planned to make an elaborate dinner for David and herself. He had been gone for 4 days, and this would be a nice meal to greet him when he walked in the door.
Taking the chicken from the refrigerator, she placed it on the cutting board and began the thoroughly disgusting task of cleaning it and trimming to remove any excess fat.
Washing her hands with extra soap while wondering what vile diseases were on a raw chicken, she then washed the lettuce, tomatoes, and other salad ingredients, giving the radishes an extra rinse, just to be safe. Then she put all her veggies on paper toweling to drain.
As she went through the process of making a garlic and basil red sauce from scratch, she tried to keep her thoughts on what she was doing at the moment, but Sophia found her mind was wandering an awful lot. She had always had an active imagination, but since moving into the new house, she found she had even more time on her hands than usual. Maybe she should take on some volunteer work or something, she thought. That would make David happy. Sophia smiled to herself. Yes, tomorrow, she would have to look into what volunteering opportunities were available when she went into town.
With the main meal warming in the oven, the salad in the fridge and the Italian bread in the basket, Sophia poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island. Picking up the newspaper, she leafed through it until she came to the advertisements. She looked at what was on sale at which stores. Although she rarely bought anything from the ads, she enjoyed looking at the pictures. It was a simple activity, but for whatever reason, it gave her pleasure.
Sophia heard the front door open, and checked the clock. Yes, it was 6:59 exactly. David said he would be home by 7 pm. Aside from herself; David was the most punctual person she had ever met. They both took an inordinate amount of pride in their punctuality.
As the timer on the oven “dinged”, she donned two hideous plaid oven mitts, opened the oven, and reached carefully inside to remove the dish of chicken parmesan she had made from scratch. It smelled positively heavenly. The mozzarella was bubbly and had just begun to brown slightly. Her mouth watered. Even though she was not a great fan of the dish itself, she truly loved the way Italian food smelled. The sweetness of basil, the pungency of garlic, and the few sliced, marinated mushrooms she had added for a touch of extra flavor.
David strode into the kitchen and put his briefcase on the center island. “God, that smells so good!” He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and leaned to deposit the customary kiss on her cheek.
“How was your trip?” she asked, tossing the salad with vinaigrette. “Ah, you know. The usual.” He loosened his tie and sat down on the bar stool next to hers. “Hungry?” she asked. “Definitely.” He smiled at her. It was so easy to please him, she almost felt guilty. A full stomach, the occasional blowjob, and possession of the TV clicker were about all he needed to be completely content. And her. Always her. He loved having her in his life, and often said he was the luckiest man on earth to have such a beauty on his arm. Not that she ever saw herself as such. But David, well, he had always seen it, from the moment they met.
Sophia sliced the bread and put their dinner on plates, setting David’s down in front of him. He hungrily tore into the meal, and began to tell her about his trip in great detail.
This was usually about the time where Sophia turned off her hearing, instead offering up the occasional “oh”, “ah”, or “I see”, and not much else. His business was really of no interest whatsoever to her. Of course she tried to be supportive and attentive, since it was his income that allowed her to live in this lovely house, take the occasional vacation, and have a closet full of wonderful clothes.
“So, what have you been up to?” he asked. Sophia blushed and lowered her head. “Not much. I picked up your dry cleaning.“ She sliced some more bread and dipped it into the sauce. No need to go into the details of what else she had been up to. Running into the most gorgeous man she had ever seen was going to be just a one-time thing. Or maybe two. Or perhaps… her mind wandered off again on its own.