You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Delilah. Blake is going to be so surprised. It was a lot of work, but I’ve quite possibly pulled off the best anniversary dinner yet. I want tonight to go off without a hitch. He deserves it.

Wait– what time is it? Oh, okay, perfect. He said he’ll be here in twenty minutes. I’ve got just enough time to finish up this cake.

There. Fifteen candles for fifteen years. Where has the time gone?

It’s so strange thinking back to when we first met. Forget a whirlwind romance; I had a Category 5 hurricane on my hands! Blake swooped in like a pre-med prince charming and gave me the entire world. He was the first and last boyfriend I ever had. Boy, did he set the bar high! Between the gifts and his undivided attention, I felt like royalty.

Hmm. As much as I hated for Mom and Dad to say it, the proposal was rather swift– everything was. All the same, I loved his enthusiasm.

A lot sure has changed since those ramen noodle and soda dinner dates in his dorm room. His medical practice is booming; we can actually afford Châteaubriand and Syrah like this these days. But above all, Blake has given me my life’s greatest joy: Conrad and Brenna. Sure, Blake and I have had a few issues throughout the years, but what marriage is perfect?

Ooh, the steak is done. Hot, hot!

What’s this? Missed call? Oh no, it’s the life insurance guy. Ugh! We’ve been playing phone tag since Friday. I’ll have to call back tomorrow. There will be plenty of time for us to talk then.

It’s been so long since Blake and I have had the house all to ourselves. I’m so glad his mother agreed to take the kids for the week; Carolyn truly is a gem.

I really like this dress. It’s white, but surprisingly flattering. I must say, I don’t look half bad for having had two kids. You go, girl!

 

 

*

 

Are you truly that ignorant, Delilah? What on Earth made you think he’d bother to be appreciative for once in his life?

Blake hasn’t said a kind word to me since he walked through the door. I mean, sure, the food got a little cold, but he yelled at me when I went to reheat it. He hates when I reheat things; he hates everything I do.

“The steak is dry as shit,” he says.

There goes his phone again. What a surprise! No, no, go ahead. Answer it. He’s scowling at me like he’s waiting for me to protest, as though he’ll lunge across the table once I do. You know, if he was half as attached to this family as he is to his phone maybe I wouldn’t have to leave him.

“I have to get this,” he says.

Oh right, of course you do. I hope he doesn’t think I’m quite that dense. He’s probably still seeing her. Is that why he was late—why he’s always late? He was right though; I shouldn’t have worn white. It does make me look fat. I bet she looks good in white.

He’s been glaring holes through my head ever since I mentioned getting a divorce. I knew he’d be angry, and I know shouldn’t have said it, but I was so scared. After all, he really hurt me. Last night was the worst it’s been in all these years; my cheek still hurts. I didn’t know how to get him to stop. What if he’d finally done me in? What if he had hurt the children?

Poor Conrad! He was only trying to protect me, but he shouldn’t have had to step in between us; he’s only thirteen! And I thought I’d never get Brenna out of her closet. I’m just glad the kids are safe with Carolyn now. They shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. It isn’t fair! This is all my fault though, isn’t it? I haven’t protected them enough before, but I’ll make up for it somehow. I swear I will.

 

*

 

 

“This cake tastes bitter,” he says.

Does it, really? Maybe it’s all that Glenfiddich Rich Oak he knocks back. I’m sure nothing tastes the same when you’re blind drunk.

 

“You’ll never do any better than me,” he says.

Blake’s insults sting more when he slurs them.

 

“You only want to leave because you’re having an affair,” he says.

I hate how he’s always accusing me, berating me, blaming me. I hate him.

 

“You’ve done something to this food,” he says.

Why couldn’t he just finish his cake and go brood in his study like he always does? This isn’t how I meant things to go. All he had to do was eat. Oh, great! There he goes yelling at me again. He is always yelling at me. Stop yell—

 

Oh! The blood. My… Ooh, my nose. My nose… No, please! I’m sorry!

 

“I’m on to you,” he says.

Help me! Somebody plea—I… I can’t breathe!

 

“I have had it up to here with your antics,” he says.

Oh God, please no! No! It was never supposed to be this way. I’ll be left for dead now. What was I thinking? What have I done? If only I could reach…

 

“You’ll die before you take my kids away from me,” he says.

My babies! My poor babies! What will they do without me? I was supposed to make things better. No, get off me! I knew it. I knew it! He’s going to kill me. He’s finally going to kill me.

Now I see what the therapist was trying to tell me. Blake’s dangerous. Selfish. He’s only ever kind to me when it’s convenient and conducive to getting his way. It’s always been about what he wants. Well, what about me, huh? What about Delilah and what Delilah wants? I should have filed the papers and left like I had planned to, but I believed him. I just had to believe him. I’ve always believed him!

 

“I love you, Delilah.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Delilah.”

“I’ll stop seeing her, Delilah!”

“Give me another chance, Delilah!”

“I won’t hurt you anymore, Delilah!”

 

Lies! Years of insufferable lies! I only ever wanted for us to be happy! Why couldn’t we just be happy? Why, Blake?

 

*

 

This was our best anniversary after all. I’m so glad Blake and I worked everything out. He’s finally come to his senses and realized that I shouldn’t be the victim of his frustrations. I know I’ve said that before, but it’s true this time. He was actually on his knees, begging for my forgiveness. It pains me to think back on everything, but I know he didn’t mean anything by it. I think he’s genuinely sorry this time.

The other night was unsettling, but things feel so much lighter now. I’m afraid to jinx myself, but I think this is the breakthrough I’d been hoping for. I can feel the change already. His phone’s been ringing like crazy, but he hasn’t run off to answer it like he always does. No, he’s been right by my side. That’s all I ever wanted from him.

He didn’t go into work today. Gosh, I don’t remember the last time he spent an entire day with me. Blake’s been so calm and gentle that I finally felt comfortable enough to have a real heart to heart talk with him. There were no interruptions, insults or outbursts. I could actually express myself and have him hear me for once. It was so refreshing!

I do hope the Johnsons didn’t hear us the other night. They’re the most lovely neighbors, but it’s getting harder to explain away the shouting that wafts into their home from ours. Maybe this will be the last time I have to do it. No, Delilah. This will be the last time. Positive thoughts only.

Goodness, he looks like such an angel when he sleeps… so peaceful. I’ve never loved him more than I do right now.

Well, I guess I’d better get up. I think I’ll make us some blueberry pancakes. It will be just like when we first got married. Yeah, that’ll be nice. I’ll fix breakfast and give that insurance guy a call back. What a beautiful morning!

 

*

 

Indeed, it was a beautiful Tuesday morning. Dr. Blake J. Fausse’s receptionist had to let herself into the office for the first time in five years. She brewed coffee that he never drank and rescheduled appointments that were not kept.

Carolyn Fausse spent the day entertaining her grandchildren. She called her son and daughter-in-law to wish them a happy anniversary before telling the kids they’d have to try back later.

Wednesday and Thursday were the exact same— except for the rain.

For the first time in fifteen years, the Johnsons weren’t kept awake by the Fausse household’s usual rumble of discord. They didn’t catch Delilah wearing long sleeves when the sun was out or sunglasses when it wasn’t. Never again would they hear how she had “tripped” and fell.

As Delilah had predicted, the fighting was finally over.

 

*

 

On Friday, frenzied knocks and cautious hollers broke the silence at 1400 S. Omber Street. Several minutes passed without an appearance at the door by Mr. or Mrs. Fausse.

Officer Martinez eventually kicked down the front door to find Delilah calmly sitting at the dining room table in a crimson dress.

The table was littered with shattered glasses, dirtied plates, and a hardened sheet cake. Laced between her bruised fingers was a cake knife from the Tiffany & Co. serving set she and Blake had received as a wedding present from her parents fifteen years prior.

Once a gleaming silver, the knife now boasted a beautiful carmine patina.

Crumpled at Delilah’s feet was the perforated body of the man she had lovingly called her husband. Beneath him ran a blackened red river that stretched and crept in all directions like the spindly legs of a black widow.

The thick fetor of time afflicted flesh turned the stomachs of all but two.

Welfare check?” laughed Delilah. “Why, Officer, we haven’t been this well in years!”

 

© C. M. 2018 All Rights Reserved

 

After many years of dealing with the worst case of writer’s block I have ever experienced, I decided that today should be the day that I revisit my beloved novel. Of course, I have no idea where the most updated version of it actually is, so I’m currently in the middle of configuring a one-woman search party.

However, while digging through one of my hard drives, I found a short story that I wrote back in 2015. Despite it having slipped my mind in recent years, I was rather glad to have unearthed it. Unfortunately, I’ve also decided to come share it with all of you. Sorry in advance! 😂

It’s not much of a secret that I’m a long form fiction kinda girl. Heck, I’m a diehard fan of long form writing when it comes to nonfiction as well. All the same, 2015 was a strange year for me. When I stumbled upon a literary contest that requested short stories, I truly (and foolishly) thought I had a shot at winning. I mean, come on, couldn’t I write well enough to at least get an honorable mentions out of the deal?

In short, no. Nothing ever became of the submission, and I completely forgot about the hellish experience that was my attempt to write a creative piece of only 1500 words or less. You may not be able to even ask me how my day is going without me spouting 1500+ words back in your direction. *Sigh* I digress…

As a huge fan of creatives such as Edgar Allan Poe and Tim Burton, the darker side of life has routinely been a source of inspiration for my paintings, poems and stories. Of course, having a pretty extensive background in criminal behavior never hurts either. A story like this was bound to be right up my alley, so I consider myself a winner… even though I lost, but that isn’t the point! Though the contest judges didn’t love it enough to include it in their publication, I totally dig this. Hopefully some of you will too!

I was planning on writing an online novel of a completely different genre, but now I’m sort of curious to see what it would be like to bring Delilah and Blake “to life” through a full-length story. 
What do you think of Delilah’s story? Would any of you be interested in reading how she found herself in this predicament, or how she plans to get out of it? Let me know down in the comments section below!
If you enjoyed this little blurb, I’d greatly appreciate you giving it a like or sharing it with someone you think might also enjoy it.
Is there specific content you’d like to see more of on here? Please let me know! I’m always open to suggestions/requests.
Last, but not least, don’t forget to follow this blog for more stories and ramblings! Ciao for now! ❤

 

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*Unless otherwise specified to be property of LonersGuideToLife.com, all photos were sourced from Pexels.*
Cover Photo: Antonio Quagliata
*All written content is that of yours truly. Plagiarism sucks. If you “borrow” something from someone you should always give credit where it is due, so please be sure to do so. Karma will thank you.*
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Written by nellsinaeternum

Just a girl lost in a daydream who is trying her best to color inside of the lines like everyone else, but is finding the act of smearing watercolor outside of the lines much, much more enjoyable.

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