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Roses as Dark as Murder

A short story

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Roses as Dark as Murder
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I was looking through some of my old writing and and I came across one of my favorite short stories that I had written. I hope you enjoy.

It was the summer of 1923 and the sun was shining through the ivory curtains that dressed the bay windows that dressed the bay windows that overlooked the city I love. With a small paring my lips I rolled over to greet my husband of five years with a smile. The king sized be that we had shared was empty except for my slim figure and the Samoyed sleeping at the end. “Hey buddy, hows my baby? Snowball, want to go out?” My voice twinkled down and danced around the room as I got out of bed and pulled a bathrobe around my body. That was why my husband had got me the dog to get me out of bed. After, well, after the baby. Snowball jumped down off the bed and chased my delicate feet as I fluttered down the stairs. I was laughing, my hair was loose, bathrobe fluttering out behind me. As carefree as a kid at Coney Island. It felt good, it seemed that it had been a long time since I was feeling normal again.

I flitted into the dining room. Inside the long mahogany table seemed intimidating, the man at the head was just as unapproachable. The New York Times covered his face, hiding the deep brown eyes that I love. A cup of coffee rested to the left of him next to a half eaten bagel with lox. Sweeping into the room I called out sweetly, “Hey Babe. I see your up early. Is there any food in the kitchen for me?” I watched him slowly lower the paper and look up and down my body. Taking in every detail.

“Good Morning, I suggest you go put on something respectable.” he pointed to my open black silk bathrobe my frilly bubble gum pink night gown, quite the contrast to his perfectly tailored black Armani suit. “I have some business friends coming over. Its extremely important that you act as you should. Oh and make sure that dog is put away. That’s a good girl.” I stood looking at him, hoping that he would say something else. Anything else, but all he did was lift the paper back up completely absorbed in the thoughts of new business deals.

I wrapping my robe around my body I replied to his business like attitude by saying, “Oh darling, I forgot to tell you Jordan sent over a package. I'll have it brought into you before the company arrives.” Then I swept up snowball and walked over to my husband. Kissed his cheek and walked out the door, up the marble staircase and into our room to change.I never looked back to see if he had heard me. Safely in the room I broke down. With tear stained cheeks I picked up my silver hair brush he gave me on our anniversary three years ago and through it at the vanity that stood across from the bed, breaking the mirror. I looked at myself in the broken pieces on the vanity and wiped the tears from my face. I wouldn't cry. Clarence, had never made me cry. He had never been the romantic type, but he loves me, I knew it. Why would I think that he would change? Just because of what had happened? I pushed the thoughts of my loss out of my head and started to work on looking “respectable”.

The doorbell rang, echoing around the cold building we called home. One of our attendants opened the door and announced Mr. and Mrs. Kentfield to Clarence and I in the sitting room. I was nestled on a the daybed that was positioned in front of a window set off to the side with snowball. I had seen Clarence give me a look a slight disapproval but he said nothing. He was in one of the leather armchairs but when the Kentfields’ walked in he stood and greeted them.

They made an odd couple, Mr. Kentfield was rather robust with a personality as large as his girth. Mrs. Kentfield was pencil straight and had been a Russian Ballerina, but she had stopped dancing when she had met Mr. Kentfield. I didn't know if the story was true but they acted the part. Rummers did fly of course. People say that Mr. Kentfield was in love with his secretary but Clarence told me not to pay attention to rumors of that nature.

After a few minutes of idle chit chat the men went into Clarence's study to talk business. They said they wouldn’t want to trouble us with the subject and I was left along with the empty shell of Mrs. Kentfield.

Sitting across the room from me she looked at me and gave me a smile like gesture that I couldn’t tell the meaning behind her odd expression. “I hear you have finally joined the club my dear.” Mrs. Kentfield chilled the air with her icy voice.

I was rattled by her odd statement. “What club? I haven't joined anything new.”

“Oh, you haven’t joined because you want to. Our husbands forced us to by abandoning us.”

“You must be confused! My Clarence hasn’t left me. He, he loves me.”

I thought you knew dear, but well how do I put it. Lets see...Clarence has been sleeping with Jordan Miller. You know the Vice President of his firm.”

“GET OUT!” My voice startled me just as much as Mrs. Kentfield. I collected myself and stated, “Forgive me, I think its time you and your husband leave.” I had tried to soften my voice but it still sounded harsh. I wasn’t mad at her, I was just hurt and I wanted someone else to hurt. It seemed like all I could do was lose the things that mattered the most to me. As I watched Mr. and Mrs. Kentfield walk out, head was held unnaturally high and moved as if the only thing that mattered was herself. Watching her go I vowed that I would never become as empty as that woman.

Clarence looked at me with a quiet anger, “Elizabeth, what the hell!? I thought we talked about your tendency to explode. You have got to control yourself! Damn it! I thought you said your were better? Should I call the Therapist? I can't have my wife through business partners out of my house!” My face fell with his last words and he quickly said, “Our house, Elizabeth I'm sorry, its just, damn you sometimes!”

Brushing his words off I screamed, “Clarence! I had to she said things about you. About you and another woman. Is it true?”

“I don't have time for this, I need to go to the office and meet with Jordan.”His voice was suddenly very calm.

“Jordan?! No. Not that whore! I won't let you, after everything we’ve been through. After everything I’ve been through.”

“Elizabeth, for gods sake I'm getting tired of all this shit! Jordan isn’t a whore. I'm going to call Dr. Rudy...”

I cut him off, “I don’t need Dr. Rudy! Im fine this has nothing to do with the baby.” I stopped, we hadn’t talked about what happened since that night,but I pushed it aside and went on, “It has to do with you cheating on me!”My voice had changed into a sob.

“Elizabeth,” his voice had softened, “I have to go meet with Jordan then I got a hotel room for the night. Please call Dr. Rudy. I will see you later.” He roughly kissed my forehead out of habit not affection and then walked out the door.

I stood staring at the door long after it had closed. Thinking about our child. He had been so supportive during the pregnancy. Then I lost the baby. That is when it all fell apart. I blamed myself. The only thing he did was send me to a doctor.

I felt the anger, sadness, and hurt swell up inside. I ran up the stairs slamming the door to the living room as I left throughout the arched doorway and dug through my drawers until I found the handgun I kept hidden. I originally bought it to protect myself when Clarence was out of town, then after I lost the baby I thought about using it on myself. It had another purpose now.

That night I slipped on my black silk gown and pulled out my handgun and the garter I had worn on our wedding. As I slid up the garter with my gun strapped on on I cut my gown on my diamond ring it ripped showing my long legs. ‘Well it might be helpful when I need the gun.’I thought to myself. After I was ready, I called a cab.

On the way I slipped on my elbow length gloves. When we got to the New York hotel, I paid the driver and started up to my husband’s room. Everyone knew me so I had no problem getting the number and making my way up. I went right up because, well, I knew SHE wouldn’t be there yet and, well, I was his wife.

As the door creaked open, I saw the room. It had rose petals all over and candles lit.

He had never done this for me?! Now I really wanted him gone.

All of our friends would tell me to turn a blind eye to all of his mistresses, but, I knew I couldn't. So I started to look for him.There. By the window, I saw him. My Clarence.

So I took perfect aim, right at his head, with all those soft brown locks, but as I put my finger on the trigger and pulled, He turned to look at me.

It was as if he was going to say something. Then all of a sudden I wanted to call the bullet back. For him to say something. Any thing. But I couldn't. The bullet was screaming at him like a steam train. Then as it hit him, his blood started to to flow out, like the champagne he poured at our wedding. Then it was rushing like the river where we had said our bonding vows, all over the leather chair he was seated in.

And as he slumped back, I started to turn. When a small black boxes caught my eye. It had my name upon it. So I opened it.

Inside was a small red ruby heart with a note, For my love, Elizabeth I turned to look back at him and I started to realize what had happened. This was for me. The roses. Candles. Everything. So I turned to run, but before I did, I said the last thing I would ever say to my husband. “Oh Clarence, I’m so sorry.”

And then I ran, with tears flowing from my eyes like his blood, right in to the arms of a man standing down in the lobby. I cried and screamed a lie that would save myself. I told everyone that my husband had been shot, I went up to have a special evening with him and I found him... bleeding. Of course they believed me. The crazy distraught wife of a very rich man who had lost so much.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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