Shadowed Novel – “You’re cheating on me with her? She’s your side dish?” she asks, thinking she’s the main dish. Ha-ha, she wishes. “How long have you been together?” I ask him, glaring at his pathetic face. “A year and a half, will be two years very soon.” she says and my heart stops. “So she’s the one who has put you off focus.” I say more to myself than him. “Damien!” I yell, anger cascading off me in waves. I look at Damien and regret is evident in his eyes. I stare at him, no tears in sight because i’m too strong for that. I slap him.
I sit patiently, watching the clock on our bedroom wall every second. In my hands is an embroidered watch personalised for my boyfriend of 3 years. Today is our anniversary and I can’t wait to surprise him with the lingerie set I have waiting underneath my silk dress. He travelled to a business conference in Dubai precisely two and a half weeks ago. I have missed him deeply in his absence but I’ve gotten used to it. I see him for 1 week on average per month. Its sad I know but business keeps him away due to all going well. I can’t exactly complain because he takes good care of me. 23:15 He should have been home 4 hours ago but he called to say the jet will be delayed, so its fine. Perhaps he got caught up on the way home.
Traffic is endless, especially today. I fill up my glass to calm myself down. My excitement is on another level. I position myself in a very alluring and hot way so that when he walks in, he gets the message loud and clear. 01:30 I wake up. I dozed off. Looking around me, nothing has changed. Perhaps something is wrong. He hasn’t called nor texted, I realise while checking my phone. As I’m about to call his number, the door to our bedroom opens and the devil himself is at the door. A drunken mess. The pain that shoots through my heart is unbearable. How can he do this on our anniversary night? “Scarrlettt my b-baby haha, bring that hot asss overr here.”
He drunkenly says. My heart continuously sinks as the realisation hits that this is the second time he is doing this to me, and on our anniversary. The first one was beautiful. He took me out to the restaurant where it all started. He booked the whole place just so it could be private and intimate. I felt like a queen. That night we slept for the first time and it was priceless. The way he adorned my body. He had me going crazy. And it was like I knew that he was the one then and there which is why moving in with him felt like the right thing to do when he asked. I remember he got down on one knee and I felt my respiratory system as well as my nervous system shut down. He started speaking and I realised my ears stopped working too. Then the box opened and there lay a key. And the words just flew out of my mouth, “I will move in with you baby, without a doubt.”
I made it too easy, everything. I moved in with him. I left my job for him. I stopped talking to my friends for him. I gave everything up for him and this is my thank you. A drunk boyfriend who neglects me and doesn’t care about my feelings. I’m practically a stranger whom he lives with, sleeps with when he feels like and gives an allowance. He doesn’t treat me like a queen anymore. The spark he once had in his beautiful eyes is nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t sleep with me anymore. He just gets here, opens my legs and shoves himself inside me without a care that I might not be in the mood. He doesn’t even look me in the eye when he’s pounding into me and as soon as he orgasms, I don’t matter. The last time I experienced a real climax was more than a year and a half ago. How is a girl supposed to live with that? How is anyone supposed to live with that? And when I’m in the mood which rarely happens these days, he isn’t up for it. Or he’s too tired. Or he isn’t even in town to start with.
I’m a woman who has unfulfilled needs. How is my inner being supposed to survive? “Scarlett! I saidd come here, now!” he yelled, yanking his jacket off. I walk to him and help him undress. When he’s left in his boxers, I rush into the closet and grap his sleepwear. Upon getting back into our bedroom, I find him in the middle of the bed. Boxers long gone. “Come here Scarlett.” he commands me, which I must say is quite typical, sounding slightly sober. “I’d rather not.” I say, heading for the door. “What did you just say, huh?” he yells, anger evident in his voice. “Good night Damien.” I respond dryly, my stomach dropping in fear of what’s to come next. “I don’t think so.” he says, hands suddenly gripping my hands. How he got off the bed so quick is beyond me. He threw me onto the bed and removed my silk dress with ease. “That’s a good girl. Prepared for daddy.” he smirked, admiring the lingerie. “Damien, please.” I whisper, not ready for what’s to come next.
“That’s right baby, beg for it.” he whispered, tearing off my lace lingerie. I decide to play along, in the hope of him satisfying me the way I wish to be satisfied. “Please baby.” I begged, my body starting to warm up. Ready to be pleasured, like it deserves. Then the worst happened. I can’t help but think back to earlier this morning, my heart breaking at yet another disappointment. To think that I even gave in. Only for him to pass out on me on the last minute. Right before he penetrated me. And to top it off, I woke up next to a cold spot. I can’t continue like this for crying out loud. How long must this continue before I reclaim my life? He respected me and treated me right when I had a thriving career and friends to whoop him if needed. Now I have none of the above and he tosses me about like I’m worthless. Well, it ends now. I got out of bed and took a relaxing lavender infused bubble bath to calm my nerves. The first thing I want to do is look for a job.
I owe it to myself to leave this house for something either than shopping, gyming or going to a spa. I desire independence, something he withheld from me in the name of love. Damien will probably dump me when he finds out but I’ll start withdrawing money in cash to buy myself a small apartment if I find myself homeless. That way life can continue. After taking my relaxing bath, I go to the dresser part of the walk-in closet and start applying natural make up just to keep things simple for today. Then suddenly, I feel hands wrap around my shoulders. “Baby.” he said, in a supposed-to-be hot tone that doesn’t affect me anymore. “My love.” I respond, making it known in my tone that I’m annoyed. “About last night-” he started off, dragging a box out from his pocket. “I don’t want to talk about it and keep whatever gift you have with you, I can’t be bought.”
I reply, keeping myself calm. He always does this. Hurts me then tries to buy me over with a cheap gift. Well not cheap, but in terms of what he makes, its considered cheap. “Awh come on baby. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I was at the airport when I met my brother and we went out last night.” he says, with the gift box in his hand. “Well then, what happened to texting your worried girlfriend instead of coming home drunk! And last night!? Couldn’t you postpone your reunion to another night? Couldn’t you!” I yell, feeling angry at his pathetic excuse. He was probably with another one of his ugly bimbos. That’s right, he is nothing but a lying and cheating jerk. Just like my ex. I swear I have the worst luck with men. I just choose them well, don’t I? “Don’t you EVER raise your voice at me! Be glad that I’m wasting valuable time trying to make amends with you!” he yells, throwing the gift at me.
I grab the gift and throw it right back. How dare he? I stand up and look at him face to face without an atom of fear. “How dare you?” I ask, my anger boiling from within. Fire probably visible in my blue eyes. “How dare you!!” I yell, my body shaking at the anger surging through me. “You have changed Damien. You have changed! You came home drunk on our anniversary night. Oh, let me guess. You forgot ,didn’t you? Then you have the audacity to come and treat me in such a manner?” I ask, stepping closer as if I might pounce on him. I just might. “So what if I forgot, big deal!” he says, as if its nothing. As if it doesn’t matter. Who is this? “How can you say that?” I ask, my anger changing into sadness as if I’m bipolar. “There is one thing you need to remember from now onwards Scarlett.” he says, raising my head up by his fingers on my chin. “I own you.” he spat, a smirk on his stupid face.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me in heaps of pain. “Not anymore.” I say more to myself. I take the little box and open it to find a pair of ruby earrings. Stunning! I take out a suede dust pink dress that holds me from the waist up and flares into beautiful petals waist down. I match it with my leather black red bottoms and a black beaded necklace with matching earnings. I let my bouncy curly hair down and grap one of my Micheal Kors handbags. Its time to find a job! I grap my car keys and head out. Hours later, I’m sitting in a busy coffee shop filled with people in their suits and briefcases. They are huddled in little groups, probably discussing work related issues. I want this too. To sit with my colleagues and talk about work.
Or gossip about other colleagues and laugh as loud as the group behind me is currently doing. I put down the newspaper in my hands, tired of browsing for a job I’m probably qualified in. I close my eyes for a second when the ladies behind me began a new topic. “I hear Mr West is hiring again.” one of them says. “Again? That was quick!” another adds. “Yeah, apparently the girl was good at -you know- but not at doing what she was actually hired for, work.” the first voice says. They all giggle. How typical. “I wouldn’t mind being his PA anyday.” a new voice says, sounding dreamy. “Maybe you should apply. The application will be posted online and on the newspaper as of tomorrow. He needs one ASAP and interviews will start next week. The new PA will be hired next week during interviews.” the first voice says. Sounds like she is well informed.
“Thank you so much Anne, you’re the best!” the third voice says. “Perks of having a friend in human resources.” the fourth person says. And they all laugh, content with one another. Hmm, Mr West. I wonder who that is. And I definitely want to apply. If they know him this well then he must be a man of high power. And more power guarantees more money, as his PA. Definitely worth a try. I woke up yet again to an empty bed. This has been happening for the past five days. I only see him in the evening when he comes home late. Buzz-Buzz I grap my phone to see a new email. Dear Miss Dawn We would like to inform you of your interview at ANW Corporations scheduled for Monday 9:30 a.m. sharp. Punctuality is of utmost importance. Another hard copy of your CV will be required during the interview. Enjoy your day Kind Regards Annabelle Moore Assistant HR of ANW Corporations.
I shouted ‘Yes’ with so much joy! It’s happening! It is actually happening!! I might finally have something to do outside this mansion. My interview is in two days. I rush out of bed and into my bathroom to get ready to go shopping. After taking my amazing shower, I head to the dresser and apply my make-up. Screw natural! I think, adding some colour to my eyes. Satisfied with my master work, I grab a pair of washed out blue jeans with a see-through white t-shirt. I grab my Victoria Secret matching underwear and bra and get dressed after applying my cocoa butter lotion. I head to the wall of shoes and grab white 5-inch stilletos that I can walk and run around in all day. Satisfied with how my thick body looks in my outfit, I grap a handbag and head out. My hair tied up into a cute bun. I definitely will attract some wandering eyes but I don’t care. Maybe I could go on a date or two. My boyfriend is never home. I could go out and go home and still arrive hours before him. He gets home around 2 in the morning, daily. He is probably going out with one of his many bimbos but I don’t care because I can do it to.
I owe it to myself. I know they say, don’t fight fire with fire but I honestly don’t care. I get into my car and drive to the mall. I head to the food court first to get a good meal. Definitely some meat to fire my day up. What did you expect me to say? Salad? Yeah, maybe on some non-existent days but I love my steak. I walk into Damien and I’s favourite restaurant. It’s always full but because we always come here, they even set aside a special table for us. I head to the restaurants receptionist, Mandy. “Hey Mandy.” I greet her with a smile. She looks at me and a look of nervousness flashes through her eyes. Okay? “Hey Scarlett, ah, the restaurant is totally packed today.” she says, gulping nervously. “I can see but my table is always available, Damien pays for it to be so take me there.” I tell her, getting impatient. Something feels off. “Uh, its uhm o-ocu-cupied.”
she stutters and she never does. Ever. Something is definitely wrong. “I would like to see for myself.” I tell her, challenging her with my eyes to say otherwise. “Uh-” she starts before I interrupt her by walking past her. The waiters that know me look away when they see me. What is happening? I reach my table to see a couple seated, talking animatedly. I can’t see the guys face but the girl looks very happy. That blonde hair looks all too familiar. It can’t be, can it? I walk to their table and stand in between them, where a waiter would typically stand. “Sir, what would you like to order?” I ask while altering my voice, looking at him knowing that he hasn’t noticed me. He is starting at the girl with so much emotion in his eyes as if he loves her.
I slap him hard and then he finally looks at me, anger in his eyes which is quickly replaced with shock. The girl yelps in shock at my violent act. “Manager!” she yells, probably thinking I’m a waiter. If only sheknew. The manager appears, nervousness written all over his face. “This poverty stricken woman of a waiter just slapped my boyfriend. I demand you fire her right now!” the girl says. Is it me that she is showering with insults? How dare she? My battle isn’t with her but with this jerk who calls himself my boyfriend. And did she just call him her boyfriend? So they are dating? “So you’re dating?” I ask her, my hand itching to slap my pathetic excuse for a boyfriend. “What is this hoe still doing here?” she asks the manager, angry that he hasn’t said a thing. “She-she d-doesn’t work-k here.” he managed to stutter out. Poor guy, caught up in this mess.
This dense airhead obviously can’t see the brands I’m wearing that a waiter can’t afford. Most probably the reason why she dared to call me poverty stricken. I look at Damien and regret is evident in his eyes. I stare at him, no tears in sight because i’m too strong for that. I slap him once again. I look at his airhead for a side chick and grab his drink, splashing it in her face as a reward for her insults. “How dare you?! Call security to have herescorted out.” she yells, still not understanding the situation before her. “Melissa, that won’t be necessary.” Damien says, still looking at me. “How can you say that? She slapped you twice and splashed your drink in my face. Who is she?” she asks, angry that Damien is so calm about this. “Why don’t you tell her who I am Damien? Your sister? Your cousin? A crazy ex? Who am I Damien?” I pressurise him, staring him dead in the eye. “Baby, please forgive me.” he says, trying to hold my hands but I don’t allow him to. He doesn’t deserve to touch me. “Did you just call this jerk baby?” she yelps, anger and confusion in her eyes. “Who am I to you Damien?”
I ask, wanting to hear what he will label me as infront of this airhead. Silence. “Who is she Damien?” she asks, grabbing his hand to gain his attention which is currently set on me. “My girlfriend.” he grunts out, loud enough for me and his side dish to hear. “You’re cheating on me with her? She’s your side dish?” she asks, thinking she’s the main dish. Ha-ha, she wishes. “How long have you been together?” I ask him, glaring at his pathetic face. “A year and a half, will be two years very soon.” she says and my heart stops. I’m sure shock was evident on my face because she smirked triumphantly, still thinking that she’s the main chick. “So she’s the one who has put you off focus.” I say more to myself than him. “Damien!” I yell, anger cascading off me in waves. “Baby, i’m sorry. Please forgive me Scarlett, please.” he begs, letting go of his bimbos hand and grabbing mine. “How long have you been dating this floosy?” she asks. “Answer her Damien.” I tell him, pulling my hands out of his and taking a step back from this situation. “3 years.” he says, eyes on me.