The Rose

The shades were drawn and it was dark in the room that Bridgid took at Millie's. Her cell phone rang several times and she checked the caller ID anxiously to see if it was Jack but it was Jason once again. He texted her twice wondering where she was but she just didn't want to explain it to him yet. He was in Sydney for a few days, what did he care.

Everything felt wrong to Bridgid. Even though the room she got at Millie's was clean and comfortable it just felt as wrong as everything else.

She lay on the bed all curled up in her thoughts. She and Jack had arguments before but never has it left her feeling so final. Maybe she should have accepted his invitation. He meant well and she realized that now but to be honest she didn't mean to pressure him into anything he really didn't want to do.

The cell phone vibrated on the nightstand again but this time she didn't bother looking. Turning away from it, she grabbed a pillow and drew it against herself. It didn't fill the void. Jack was big and warm. His hands were wonderfully rough and his hair was amazingly soft. This pillow felt as cold and lifeless as it was.

The feel of him was so fresh in her mind that it seemed as if he were there. His calloused hands stroking her thighs brought the hair on her arms to attention and the sound of his voice speaking her name tingled in her belly like the touch of a wizard’s wand. His deep gentle kisses never lost their ability to make her head spin and when he deepened them her desire ignited like a struck match.

She felt him now, his warm breath on the flesh of her neck trekking down to the sensitive rise of flesh on her breast. He had a way of teasing her, knowing exactly when to strike, knowing exactly when the iron was hot. The touch of his hand when he slid it between her thighs made her breath hitch and he never failed to consider her first before they made love.

Was that all he was to her? A perfect lover?

God, no! She found complete pleasure when she watch him eat heartily, when she heard him laugh with gusto and when he spoke in the riddles he did at times. It was the way he looked, smelled and tasted that satisfied her more than anything else ever had.

"Damn it!" she ached as she sat up on the edge of the bed. What was she doing here? Why did she leave?

Siding her feet into her shoes, she grabbed her key from the dresser and headed out the door. It was still dark as she gritted her teeth and prepared herself for what she'd say to him, I'm sorry not being the least of which. She felt better now knowing they'd probably laugh about this entire thing and everything would be back to the way it was a couple days ago. They'd be happily planning the grand opening of the sail shop. She'd fix a special dinner for him for Valentines Day and they'd no doubt make love all night log. The very thought of waking up with Jack made her feel warm and wanted. Why didn't she do this yesterday? Why the hell did she wait so long to go back and fix things?

By the time she got to the gate of their cottage she was nearly running. She called his name before she ran into the door. "Jack, Jack I'm home."

The door was locked so she quickly dug in her pocket for her key. Sliding it into the lock she pushed the door open. "Jack!" she called but her voice seemed to echo in a most peculiar way. She really didn't have to search for him. It stood out like a wounded hear on the kitchen table. Setting there all wilted and lost was a single red rose and underneath it was the copy of the Glen Times which her reply to his proposal was placed in.

Bridgid sat on one of the kitchen chairs and she lowered her head. No tears fell. She knew she'd killed the most important thing in her life. His love for her had died with the single rose.