We Never Said Once Ch 03

Becca thanked her driver and got out at the same restaurant where this cluster had begun, and nervously started the drive back home. No missed calls yet, and that was a great sign. She ran through a dozen scenarios in her mind, to see how Nick would react to each; every one of them worse than the last.

He had played a show last night and would hopefully still be sleeping, as she needed a bath as soon as possible, then once out, she'd decide. In the shower she cried while teetering on the fence. She could leave this shit hole behind, all their problems, and have someone who she lusted over, still, and maybe moreso than ever. Every time she closed her eyes to picture her husband's face to tell him, she could feel Old Flame Nick inside of her, as the two of them were finishing together, and it made her feel conflicted on every level.

Like a terrible person on the one hand, who had done something truly heinous to someone who loved her unconditionally; it was unforgivable. And on the other hand, foreign and like a fucking goddess. The sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on had tied her up and taken her, his infatuation and uncontrollable lust for her permeating from every pore. But that was wrong, not just for any ole wife, but her specifically. She had never considered doing what she'd done before, and she hated it. She crossed her legs and rubbed her thighs together until she caught herself just short of starting up again. It felt so wrong, getting aroused yet again, still with another man's semen inside of her. But it was, as deep inside of her as were the visions of how it got there.

But she'd be divorced. And what would her family say, or even her friends? It felt like just a fantasy, something fleeting she could graze, but couldn't actually hold. And then if she was staying, it would kill her husband. Specifically because it was with this other Nick. She dried herself off and stared at herself for a long time in the fogged mirror, wishing she could see what Ex Nick saw. She dabbed tears away until they finally went, then got dressed.

She decided to make some brunch while she waited for her Nick to get up. When he did, she was making plates for them, and Nick kissed her and ran an arm around her waist, but it felt different, wrong to her. Different, like when he kissed her, she was cheating, and not just deep down on some level. It was on every level. She watched him eat his food, completely devoid of her own appetite, and just when he was about done she couldn't stand keeping it in, and had to say something.

"Remember you told me you'd want to know if anything ever happened?"

He looked up, her tone was serious and set him on edge. "No, happened like what?"

"Like with a guy. Something happened."

He set his fork down amidst his eggs and toast. And he turned a bit red, breathed heavily, and glared at her in a way she didn't recognize. "Okay, what happened?"

"I messed up, and I'm sorr-"

"What's that mean, you messed up?" He was getting angrier by the word.

"I had sex with another man last night and-"

"That's enough. You can go." He wasn't brilliant, wealthy, the most romantic, particularly handsome, or even driven, but he was good to her, and had always prided himself on it. Far too much, it seemed to him just then.

"That's it? I can go?" And she folded her arms at the fact that that was all he was going to say. All the years, and what? Only a you-can-go?

"Yes, you can go, now actually."

"As usual, you never let me finish saying what I'm telling you, you don't even care what I say." If you did, we probably wouldn't be...here, she thought.

He recognized this as a recurring argument, "So it's my fault? Is that what you were going to say?"

She had tears in her eyes, "No, I had sex with another man last night, and I'm leaving you for him." It wasn't what she wanted, but touching him afterwards felt so wrong, the way her body recoiled on its own, there was no other choice. And she didn't realize it until that moment, but it was something she didn't have to think about, if that makes sense. Of course with Becca it never needed to make sense anyway.

His skin couldn't hide the rage boiling inside of him. He had his fork and knife gripped so tightly his knuckles turned pale and his teeth were ground together so hard they began to creak like an old hinge. "Was I not good to you? Is this not enough?" he almost yelled, flailing his arms around at their modest kitchen in general, then he slammed both hands down, knocking over his nasty V8.

"You were, but,"

"But what?" Between them, it was fair.

"I love him, and I'm not going to be your roommate anymore. We're roommates, admit it."

"Roommates?! You're my WIFE!" he screamed, slamming both fists onto the table again. Scaring her for the first time, she had never seen him like this, like he was going to come across the table.

"I was," she yelled back, "a long time ago, but I haven't been for a long time, and I think last night made me realize that." It was the truth, and she still felt like a bitch for saying it. Maybe she was, but her body had convinced her heart, and that was her. Her entire life was following her heart, and she would never forgive herself for any other path.

Then there was a lot of yelling, as she quickly packed a bag. Medicines, clothes, toiletries, like she was being whisked away for a quick weekend. She tried to go back in for her instruments, but Nick was understandably irate and erratic, so she left them. As she drove off, he was smashing them onto the sidewalk in front of their house. Her eyes were filled with tears, so she drove towards her new Nick's home, stopping along the way several times to compose herself, and further along, to touch-up her appearance, to no avail.

Becca thought it best to lay low, and pulled into a motel across town to have some peace. Her eyes were puffy and red from random bouts of hysteria and crying, and she just needed time, seeing him like this wasn't going to work. But the night rapidly devolved into her with her phone in her hands, checking both Nicks' social media, her own, and clicking on New Nick's name to call him, but chickening out. Tomorrow, she would just drive over, and completely be his fantasy. Once he saw what she'd let him do to her, he'd be hers for sure.

The next morning, on very little sleep, she opted for a look as close as she could get to what she had looked like the other day when they had bumped into one another, but with a darker lip stain. She had grabbed a yellow sundress, slipped that on, just that, and in a few minutes she was out the door.

Pulling up to Nick's was a different experience; by her standards, it was a mansion. A sprawling ranch-style behemoth outside of town, with a porch that wrapped completely around, that reminded her of an old cottage in a way with it's pointed dormers and thickly shingled roof. It was nestled on an enormous piece of land, fenced off with large runs of timber like you might see along the edge of a ranch. She exhaled, calmer than she had felt in days, just seeing his truck in the driveway, knowing he was there.

She flipped down the visor and opened the mirror, and seeing her own eyes triggered something inside of her that she needed. The vision of herself in her fantasies was staring right back at her, taking over. In clinical terms, you could probably classify it as a break, but it was one she knew well, and one she was more than intimate with by now. The fact that in her rush to leave, she had forgotten one of her meds nearly forced that inevitability.

Becca strutted up to the porch and rang the bell, but there was no answer. She knocked loudly, waited a moment, but still nothing. She knocked again, then tried the handle, it was locked, so she peered inside. Everything was dark, so she walked around the porch, scanning the fields and the back pasture that ran over a hill to a treeline a ways back. There was a barn in the distance, but she tried the back door instead, and it was unlocked.

Her heart raced as she slinked inside. She thought to call out to him, but that option was overruled by her altered persona, and instead she tip-toed into a breakfast-room/kitchen. With just a bit of sunlight now spilling in, she could see a note on the far edge of the little round table, closest to the stove. There was an open entryway to a dining room through a pair of opened glass doors to the left, which seemed dead quiet, and straight ahead was darker and seemed to go further into his home.

Becca slinked over like a cat, picked up the note, thinking it to be a shopping list or something mundane, but her own name handwritten near the top drew her eyes to it right away. A bit puzzled, she picked the sheet up, it was Nick's handwriting, so she clumsily wandered with it clutched in her hand back towards the door where the light was better.

Becca,

When you and I were young we would talk about what our lives could be like together, that you and I would be together and in love, and it didn't work out. We had a chance, back then, and at first things were so simple and I thought we could do it. But the more I think about us and what we could be, you know, we never said once. We never said it had to be all in one go, I'll fall for you and make you my girl as many times as it takes for us to end up together. We were out of time, then. I wanted you but I was too young, and you wanted me, but you were still wild, just so beautiful and free.

It ended abruptly there, fittingly unfinished. The letter was old, not from before, when they were seeing each other, but several years for sure. The ink was fading just a bit and the paper had yellowed. She wondered why he had never sent it and wondered how her life would have been different if he had. Maybe she was married and he'd written it before he knew. But then why was it set out? Just then she had the strangest memories of him from when they first dated, about the bouts of depression she'd helped him with, and suddenly worried what else she might find there, or that she might be too late.

Becca looked around the room, and her eyes were drawn to a mirror, reflecting this version of her. She watched herself in it, closely, studying herself in it as if for the first time. The letter and anything else was just a distraction. That fact is it didn't matter to her when it was written, he had asked her to jump, and she already had.

She wandered through the living room, over and around a bit of a mess that this Becca barely noticed, her mind singularly focused by that point. She walked down the long dark hallway, counting doors until she came to his. She slowly reached for the knob, pausing midway there, arm outstretched, eyes closed for a second, alongside the deepest breath she had ever taken. This was it, her new life.

The door opened in as she reached for it, and she was absolutely floored. Out stepped a woman with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, and her eyes met Becca's right off. She jumped, but then smirked from around a Blowpop she was working on. Becca glanced her over, and even there in the dark hallway, the first thing anyone with a brain would notice was her breasts. Slim frame, with an unfairly high resting pair, sharp features, probably gorgeous, but Becca couldn't really see her well. The darkness the woman stood cloaked in mostly hid her features, but Becca's imagination gladly filled in every detail of her appearance.

The woman took a look at Becca and knew exactly who she was. She put her hand oddly at Becca's throat, and walked her gently backwards until she was against the far wall of the hallway. The morning sunlight had begun to peek through a distant window down past Nick's room, where half the hall was dark, and the half including Becca was scarcely lit by the reflection off the old hardwoods. Despite her hand placement, the girl didn't seem particularly upset or violent, it was just all very confusing, as you could imagine. Her movements exuded sex, the way she moved, the things she did, the barely audible moans she exhaled as she accosted and studied Becca, everything.

The girl sort of laughed as the sunlight bathed Becca's face and body, "You must be Becca," she said condescendingly, "I have to say, from the way he was talking about you, I expected, well, you to look better," she said, turning Becca's face into the light by her chin. When she was satisfied, and she definitely was now that she'd seen Becca, she had the strangest grin across her face, "Oh my God, look at these," she went on, dropping her bag, and kind of mashing the sides of Becca's breasts to reiterate, then trying to mold them into something better by squeezing and adjusting them through Becca's paper-thin dress, "that's so sad. Like, really sad. You are ambitious if nothing else, I'm Kristen by the way, Nick and I... we're friends, really good friends." The girl made a crude gesture with the sucker she had, moving it in and out of her mouth after she spoke.

Becca wanted to be furious, but Kristen's assessment was her own as well, especially concerning Nick. Then she felt completely nude, I mean, how much more embarrassed could she possibly get, having crossed paths with, well, hopefully just Nick's fuck buddy, who's hand was still squeezing and groping her left breast. She didn't seem upset about catching Becca here, and obviously had heard about her, which was about the only thing keeping Becca from running right out of the house and driving off. But at the last second, like a whiff of smelling salts, she caught Nick's scent on the girl, and she focused on her rival again, re-steeled.

"I don't get it," Kristen continued, tracing the sucker she had over Becca's nipples, coating her thin yellow dress with strawberry flavored stickiness. "I'm just going to say it, you are not cute, like, at all. And I'm not trying to be mean, you know you and him don't go together, right? I mean, I know some guys who probably would, if they were drunk enough, but Nick? Really?" She finally took a step back, and Becca could take it in. Kristen looked like sex personified, big full lips, thick through her hips, and Becca couldn't take her eyes off the woman's cleavage, they were almost unnaturally large for her frame. "Hey," Kristen said, lightly slapping Becca's cheek to snap her out of some trance, "you know that right? That you and him were never going to end up together, right?"

She did know, as cruel as Kristen was, it was like she knew exactly how Becca really felt, right where to twist that dagger, but Becca's awkward silence had gone on long enough, and it was becoming weird. Plus, Becca thought, she and Nick had something special, something completely unique, "We just..."

"-Let me guess," and Kristen pushed her Blowpop into Becca's mouth, insinuating she better hold it and shut the fuck up, "the sex was amazing, right? I've been his 'friend' for years, I know, he'd text me all the time, and I'd come over, and he'd fuck the hell out of me, I'd cum a bunch, and then he'd cum-" she droned each line out like it was no big deal.

"In your pussy?" Becca stated more so than asked, "All the way in, and just floods you when you cum?" Becca said, twisting the sucker as she slid it out. She didn't mean to divulge, but it was all she could think about when Kristen spoke.

"What?!" Kristen snarled, her nose was scrunched and her head jolted straight back, although the rest of her body was motionless.

It was an opening in the fight Becca wasn't even looking for, but it was all-consuming when thinking about Nick, "Yeah, he leaves it in so you can go at the same time, right?"

"Seriously?" Kristen said, and there was definitely a nerve struck. Becca could tell right off it was something Kristen wanted but was denied.

She didn't know why, but it excited her. Her meter was pegged since sloshing up the driveway, but she liked this in an ever so slightly different way. "Ohhh, is that a sore subject? Shame, see he tied me down and fucked me all night the other night, you know, with no condom, and made me cum until I think I passed out. Is that what he told you about me? That he pinned me down, told me he didn't care what I said or did, he was cumming all the way inside of me? See, that's why I'm here Kristen, and why I bet he told you this was your last time coming ove-" She thought about taking the sucker out and dropping it like a mic, but she really wanted a cigarette, and it was a good holdover. Either way, Kristen cut her off rudely.

"Enjoy how my pussy tastes, bitch," Kristen said as she sort of face mugged Becca, shoving her by the face, then snatched up her bag, and stormed off in a huff. Kristen's eyes narrowed and her face tightened, she knew Becca had her number, she instantly felt like such a fool, all the time spent on her knees after begging him to just go inside of her, holding her hair up and back in one hand, and usually a Blowpop in her other so Nick could finish on it, and on her face. How the fuck did she know? Kristen could feel her cheeks heating up and her ears burned, so much so that her heart hurt. It was all she could do to storm off like she was angry, but she was honestly pissed at herself for not making a move to actually date Nick before things got to this point. There had never been anyone else he talked about, and then over a couple of days he went from that to head over heels.

Becca turned her head to follow Kristen like a possessed doll in a shitty horror movie might as she stormed off, with very little wasted movement. This Becca wasn't done though. She quickly crept up behind Kristen and caught her in the kitchen, firstly by the hair. Becca yanked her back a step, with her hands in Kristen's long blonde/brown hair, down near her scalp. "He's mine, did you read this?" Becca yelled, bending her over backwards in a frenzy, to where she was backed over onto the table and her feet were desperately trying to touch ground. She was referring to the letter, which after their scuffle, she didn't see.

"Read what, you fucking psycho!? Let m-" Kristen yelled, but Becca put a hand over her mouth to shut her up, then pressed her body against it as she scurried on top of the girl, using her bodyweight as leverage to pin her down. One of Kristen's legs flailed up, trying to buck Becca off, but Becca caught it, and found herself shifting down a bit, still on top of the table, but with one knee between Kristen's legs, in a half-guard, half-sexual position. The smooth, stretchy yoga pants fabric stuck to her toned body like a glove, and Becca had a handful of the material at Kristen's ankle, further solidifying her hold on the girl.

It was a whirlwind struggle for a while, but Becca maintained the upper hand throughout, while Kristen desperately flailed and tried to pull Becca's hair. "I can smell him on your face. Is that what this is about?" Becca asked, leaning down towards Kristen's ear just a bit, still pressing the back of Kristen's head into the table where she couldn't free herself. "That he only cums on your face, but was dying to go inside of me? You know why, just say it," Becca wouldn't really let the girl talk though, and kept telling her the crudest things while pinning her down and letting her know that Nick was all hers, and when the girl stopped fighting back and accepted that fact, she took her hand off Kristen's mouth.

Kristen wouldn't say a thing, and Becca grabbed her by the face again, so she could make her point. She was completely defeated and wouldn't budge or so much as even look at her, so Becca got off, and pulled her by her hair into a heap on the floor. She had half a mind to drag her into the room and make her watch, but didn't want to get too over the top with Nick yet, and simply left her there. But not before punt kicking Kristen's overnight bag, exploding its contents about the room and sending bits of broken plastic everywhere. It was a bitch move, but also so funny it made her giggle uncontrollably.