Who Said Anything About Love?

Madeline’s POV

It was Tuesday night, two days after seeing the boys at the gallery, when I got the call.

Amelia was in the shower and I was on the sofa in the living room reading Jane Eyre. So far it proved to be an amazing story about a woman’s need for love and independence told with fierce conviction and without a trace of sentimentality.

It was a story I had been working to finish for a while now; I was reading it in English which was far more difficult to understand than any French or German from the 1800’s.

Just as I was getting to a good part the phone rang rather obnoxiously from across the room. I placed my favorite bookmark — an old worn Ace of spades from a deck of blue bicycle cards — in between the pages and set it on the coffee table. I reached the phone by the third ring and picked it up from its cradle pressing talk before holding it to my ear.

“Hallo?”

“Madeline?”

I inwardly cringed as I realized who was on the other end. “Hi Shayne.”

“Baby! How are you?” he said a little too happy for my liking; last time we talked he had nearly bitten my head off then had the audacity to hang up on me.

“Tired. You? I said plainly.

“I’d be better if you were here.” he said sweetly. Like I’ve mentioned before, he has his moments, good and bad. But I didn’t dare point out the bad to him. Not again.

The air I forced out of my throat was supposed to sound like a sort of laugh but ended up sounding more like a snort of disgust.

“What?” he snapped, “It’s the truth!”

“Oh, I wasn’t…I didn’t mean for it to sound that way,” I search my mind for an answer to give him, “I think I might be coming down with something; my throat is a little sore.”

I could almost see the hardness in his face and the anger in his eyes fade in his voice when he spoke, “I hope not. You know, I have a cure for sore throats.”

I didn’t have to try to laugh this time; the smirk in his words was enough to make any one chuckle.

“I’m sure you do.” I said as I picked at the fringe of the blanket that hung loosely over the back of the couch.

“If you were here I’d gladly show you.” his once sinister voice now as soft as chocolate caressing one’s tongue.

Why must you be like this? So beautifully right for me, yet so hateful and wrong in every way. Can I just pick the pieces I want and keep them forever?

“I’m sure you would.” I said smally, lost in my thoughts and trying hard not to cry. Why was I the one stuck in this predicament? Not that I’d wish this on anyone else, but I wanted so much more than Shayne was willing to offer. Someone like…

As a figure flashed through my mind I quickly swatted it away knowing it to be impossible.

“Babe? Did you hear me?” Shayne’s voice interrupted my thoughts of the better life I longed for.

“No, I’m sorry…my phone cut out.” I lied.

“Oh, I was only saying that if you were here I’d kiss every inch of your…” his voice faded out as I got lost in thoughts again. That face, it belonged to such a good, but so confused person. Even if he ever found it in him to care about someone as off as myself would he make my life the easier and better one I dreamed of? “…over your body. You’d love it, baby.”

“Mmm, I think I might.” I said, agreeing with my thoughts more than what he had said to me; I’d barely heard a word of it.

“Well then come over tomorrow and I’ll show you just how much you’ll love it.” he smirked cockily.

“Wha-…I can’t.” I said shaking my head slightly though I knew he couldn’t see it.

“Why not?” his voice rose slightly at my rejection.

“I promised to help Amelia paint a section of the gallery tomorrow.” I told him making sure that every word was nicer than he deserved; I couldn’t have him angry with me. Not again.

He let out a huff of air that sounded like an exaggerated sigh laced with disbelief and disgust.

“And she can’t do this alone?” he snapped.

“No…it’s a lot to do.” I said smally.

“What, you don’t have any other friends that could help her?”

“Actually our two friends are helping us. You haven’t met them but they promised to help us out because it’s far too much work for just Amelia and me.” I slightly lied hoping that to him it would sound like a lot of hard work and not just a bunch of girls flinging paint everywhere. Yes, I didn’t mention Tom and Bill on purpose.

“My god, Madeline! I try and show you how much a love you and you wanna go paint the day away with a bunch of chicks.” he sounded completely exasperated that I’d rather be productive than have sex with him.

Sex with Shayne was just that; sex, I never felt the love he insisted was there. He always got way too carried away and I didn’t like when he was out of control; he got reckless. I couldn’t, not since last time. Not again.

“That’s not it, Shayne.” I started to explain.

“No, you know what, I don’t want to hear your lame ass excuse about what this is. You and your sister just paint up a storm tomorrow.” he yelled, I felt the venom drip from every word as it passed through my mind.

Before I could even say another word he hung up on me again; I could hear the phone slamming back into its cradle. I reached up and pressed the off button and set the cordless device on the coffee table in exchange for my novel.

Picking up where I had left off I began to absorb the literature lust as the pages absorbed the tears that unbeknownst to me were falling from my eyes. I replaced my bookmark and reached up to wipe away my grief and confusion and sorrow and even pure hatred toward that boy I claimed as my own.

Why can’t this just end? Just leave me alone and free of all your destruction. Then I could be with…

A small almost unnoticeable smile touched my trembling lips as that face filled my mind again.

Why can’t I have you?