This is my entry in Literotica's 2018 Valentine's Day Contest. I hope you like it.
1. Starting Over
Colin moved a box into the corner of his pickup's bed so it wouldn't shift around and stopped to look at his load. It was pitiful: pots and pans, towels and sheets, clothes, a dresser, a chair. That and a few odds-and-ends still to come were all that Camile was going to salvage from her marriage.
"Your sister doesn't have much to show for two years," Joyce said. She tucked her hair under her collar and pulled her hood up. Light snow swirled around her and started to drift in the gutter. It was a gray day.
"I think she's leaving with what she brought and not much more," Colin said. "She was a 21 year-old student when they got married, so she didn't bring a lot." He wanted to finish before dark. That meant moving Camile, the dresser and the clothes into her old room at their parents' house and stowing the rest in the storage locker at his condo. There was going to be plenty of room in the locker.
Joyce pushed her mittened hands into her pockets and started back to the house. Colin wanted to get her home and to bed. He was only in town for Thanksgiving weekend, and whenever he could arrange an evening with his girlfriend he needed to take advantage of it.
An aging Dodge pulled up across the street and Joyce stopped to watch. It was Camile's ex-husband, Eric. He muttered "I'll fuck that bitch up," and stormed up the driveway without making eye contact with Colin or Joyce. Colin was three inches taller than Eric and his hand on Eric's arm turned him around.
"She's going to rob me blind," Eric said and brushed Colin's hand away. He reeked of booze.
"It doesn't look like it," Colin said and gestured to his truck. "You agreed to what she could take and you agreed to stay away until she was done. Getting drunk doesn't change that." Colin squared up and closed his fists; his posture threatened violence, and he was willing to carry through.
Eric wasn't drunk enough to challenge his former brother-in-law. He stepped back. "This is between her and me," he said.
Colin hawked and spit. "She put up with you fucking around, and I don't know why," he said. "That was between you and Camile. It stopped being just between you and her when you broke her rib."
"I want her out of here now," Eric said and gestured to the house. "If you knew the shit she did to me you wouldn't be helping her."
Colin stepped close to back Eric up. "Opinions differ," he said. "Camile was your wife. All you had to do was sign the papers, and now she's out of your life. She's my little sister, and she'll always be my little sister. I'll be here for her when she needs me. Get back in your car and get out of here."
Eric stumbled backwards off the curb but managed to keep from falling. He climbed back into his car and pulled around the corner. Colin saw Joyce put her phone away and raised his eyebrows to ask what she'd done. "I gave his license plate and description to the cops," she said. "They'll be looking for a drunk driver."
"That couldn't happen to a more deserving guy," Colin said and walked Joyce to the house. "Don't tell Camile that Eric was here. She already has enough to worry about."
Camile met them at the door with a box and a lamp. She shoved the lamp at Colin and asked, "Can you handle that?" then swept her dark hair back behind her ear and waved her hand at the room behind her. "These and a couple things I'll just stick in my car are all that's left. Then I'll lock up." There wasn't a hint of happiness in her words or her inflection. The bruise on her cheek was still too dark to cover with makeup and the broken rib made her wince when she lifted her arm, or even laughed.
Colin thought she should at least be happy to leave. But without really knowing where she was going that was too much to ask.
They passed the corner where Eric was being interviewed by police and unloaded most of Camile's things into Colin's locker. They moved the rest into Camile's old room just as the sun was setting.
"You're leaving again on Monday?" his mom asked. Colin nodded his answer, and she said, "Come to dinner Sunday night. It'll be like old times."
It wasn't, really. Dad barely had a word to say at dinner and Mom seemed stressed. They both hid in front of the television after dinner and left the fireplace to Colin and Camile. Big snowflakes swirled in the wind outside, but Colin didn't feel like leaving yet. He needed to talk to his sister.
"Well that was just weird," Camile said, then focused on Colin. "Why are you still here?"
"I'm staying for the hot cocoa that you're about to make for me," Colin said.
Camile laughed at her brother, but she led him to the kitchen and a few minutes later she handed him a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows on top. They curled up on the sofa facing each other, both with warm mugs in hand, and the fire lit them in flickering light and dark shadows.
"They still have you traveling a lot, don't they?" Camile asked.
"Yeah, and I've about had it," Colin said. "The promise was that with a Master's degree I would only need two years of experience before I stopped doing much on-site work. It's been almost three years now." He shrugged, "I don't think they're playing me. I think business hasn't been very good."
"You sound tired," Camile said. "I mean, you're like twentyeight right? Why don't you just die now and get it over with?"
"Well fuck you," Colin said and let that subject drop. She may have been insulting, but his sister was right. He was feeling sorry for himself. "What do you do now?" he asked. He reached one hand to lift Camile's chin. She jerked away and winced at the pain. "Remember in Little League when you stuck your face in front of that fast ball? That's what it looks like."
"That's smart. That's what I should tell people," Camile said, "But wait, it isn't baseball season anymore. No-one would believe me."
She sipped at her cocoa then went on, "I guess a job comes first. I don't know what I want, but I have some interviews set up. I probably won't interview very well until after the bruise fades. But it's the holidays. If nothing else, I should be able to get a temp job in someone's kitchen. Then try to get back to school somehow. I have three semesters left."
"Are Mom and Dad helping?" Colin asked, and Camile laughed.
"You haven't been around much," Camile said. "Mom and Dad are done helping. My old bedroom is Mom's sewing room now, and she didn't even get things off the bed when I moved in. She let me have half the closet. As long as I'm useful around here I'm tolerableβnot comfortable, just tolerable. But paying for the rest of school and stuff? That's all on me."
Camile waited for Colin to suck down the marshmallows that were left in the bottom of his mug and asked, "When are you going to be home again?"