Page 5 of Remnants

Kaitlin

THREE

ARE YOU STILL WATCHING?

I roll my eyes at the absolute audacity of the streaming app to ask me such a ridiculous question.

“I get enough shit from James, I don’t need it from you, too,” I grumble as I hit the ‘yes’ option so that it will play the next episode of whatever show I’ve been dissociating to for the past few hours. I stare at the container sitting on my coffee table as a blush creeps up my neck.

Nora is so strikingly beautiful, and that outfit she had on this morning—it sent a feeling to my core I haven’t felt in years.

A feeling that is supposed to be long since dead.

I need to stuff those feelings into a box and set them on fire.

I have no choice. Whatever is happening when I come in contact with her, when I think of her…

and that dream I had last night… it needs to die.

I am married and straight, like my family told me—what happened in high school was a mistake.

Shaking my head, I try to rid my brain of the images of her, as if my mind is some sort of etch-a-sketch.

It must be a broken one because she refuses to be erased.

I feel bad for pushing her away earlier, but between the ridiculous and sinful attraction I feel toward her, and the fact that I’m a terrible liar, I felt it best to have her leave.

I am not sick; I look like I am from crying all morning.

You would think after the morning I had, the crying was from heartbreak, but shamefully, it’s not.

I’m crying out of relief. Before the sun was even up this morning, James was beyond livid because I tore his luggage.

I didn’t mean to. It was so heavy and he was having me carry it down the stairs—I didn’t notice it had gotten snagged on one of the metal spindles and it ripped.

He screamed at me, reminding me that it was a four thousand dollar bag.

I gave him some attitude—it just slipped.

I was flustered and nervous and I told him if he was that concerned he should’ve moved it himself.

It was foolish on my part and the anger that came from him was to be expected.

What I hadn’t expected was the lamp he picked up and threw at me.

He said he meant for it to hit the wall, instead it hit me.

Why does this equate to relief? Because I now know for the next month, James will be the sweet man he was six years ago when we met.

He won’t bring up my weight, he won’t control me, he might even tell me that I’m beautiful and that he loves me.

As long as I stay in line and follow the rules, he will treat me like a princess.

James is usually good about keeping his dark side private, and he makes sure of that—most of the time, if he is going to take his aggression out on me, it is mental or easily hidden.

Only a couple times a year does he leave a mark on me that I am unable to cover, and God help me, I hate how much I’ve begun to crave physical violence.

The physical pain, it is like a vacation from the mental attacks.

So, I’m full of relief. It’s shameful relief, but relief nonetheless.

James will be gone for the next week, and while gone he will send me lots of sweet messages, like he has been all morning.

Then he will come home, shower me with affection, and I will soak up every second of it so that it can get me through until the next time.

The soft knocking at my front door grabs my attention.

I furrow my brows wondering what or who it could be in the middle of the day.

I don’t remember ordering anything, but maybe James had.

Standing, I walk over to the door and open it.

At my feet sits a vase of peonies, a grocery bag full of cold remedy items, special tissues, and a small brown teddy bear.

“What on earth?” I mutter while plucking the little card out of the bouquet of flowers.

Hope this helps.

Happy thoughts

Xx Nora

After reading the note again, and then a third, and even a fourth time, I shake my head in disbelief.

I glance up toward Nora’s house, looking for signs of movement, but somehow despite her limp and the cane I saw her holding earlier, she managed to get back to her house before I answered the door.

That, or she’s a magician and vanished. I scoop up all of my gifts and bring them inside the house, locking the door behind me.

Setting the bags and flowers on the counter, I pull out the stuffed bear and study the light brown creature. I inhale the toy and let out a shaky breath as I realize the bear smells faintly like Nora. Sandalwood, vanilla, and something spring-like mixed in.

I smell the bear again, this time taking notice of how my nipples harden as her scent consumes me.

I release a small moan and bite my bottom lip before smiling and walking to the room I sleep in.

I don’t bother to turn on the light in the dark room as I find my way to my bed and lay down, staring up at the dark ceiling.

Am I really, after all these years, about to do this?

The guilt I feel in my stomach begins to wage war against my growing arousal.

Holding the bear to my nose again, I breathe in while running my hand up my shirt and cupping my breast. “Mmmm…” I whimper as I slide down into the waistband of my pajama pants, telling myself that maybe this is all just in my head.

Maybe I’m not really as excited over her as I think I am.

My finger hits the top of my slit and I let out a surprised gasp.

Moving further down my folds, I nearly shake.

I can’t remember ever being as wet as I am right now.

My fingers brush over my clit and I let out a low groan.

I haven’t been touched in so long, not even by myself.

I remove my hand and shimmy out of my bottoms before reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out a box.

In the box is my toy: a vaginal and clit stimulator, nothing too fancy, but it is quiet, which is what I need because if I dare to do it when James is here and he were to hear it, I would be in trouble, and then he would make me…

I shake my head. No, I am going to enjoy this.

I know the guilt will come later, but right now, I don’t care.

Closing my eyes, I turn on the vibrator, running it up and down my folds as I try to think about random women I find attractive.

That game doesn’t last long, though. Nora keeps flashing into my brain and eventually I give up on trying to push her out.

Instead, I allow her to consume my fantasy.

I let out a long moan as I think about it being her hand holding my vibrator.

“Does that feel good, Junebug?”

I pant as her voice fills my head, her scent all around me.

“That’s my girl, come for me.”

I thrust my hips up and groan louder as the toy moves in and out of me, faster and faster.

“There you go, listen to how wet you are. Is this all for me? Come on, baby, call my name, you can do it, let go.”

“Oh god! N-Nora!” I cry out as I am pushed to my edge and beyond.

Arching my back, I force the vibrator to stay deep inside my center as I ride out wave after wave of pleasure.

My entire body shakes as electricity courses through me.

It’s too much and I scream louder as I orgasm again…

and again. All while fantasizing of her between my legs.

Her holding my toy, her wearing a toy while thrusting into me.

When the sensation becomes uncomfortable and I’ve lost track of how many back-to-back orgasms I’ve given myself, or how many times I’ve cried her name to the heavens, I remove the toy and lay still for several long seconds while trying to regain my composure.

Filthy

Sinner

Abomination

I cringe as the words enter my head and I begin to feel the wave of guilt-filled nausea roll in.

Cheater

This new word hits me like a punch to the gut.

I’m married. What about my vows? My commitment to my husband—to this life.

And I decided to fantasize about my new neighbor?

My female neighbor? Turning on the bedside light, I stare down at my naked lower half and the hand I used to aid in my orgasms, my giant diamond bridal ring set glittering in the light.

No, this isn’t me. I’m not the cheating partner in this marriage.

I’m not delusional, I’m well aware that James doesn’t go long without the company of other women.

But how can I expect more from him? He’s a very good looking man, wealthy, and a famous cosmetic surgeon.

I’m his wife, which means I’m supposed to take care of the house, have and care for the kids, and go to events with him.

I am not, however, who he chooses to fuck and spend his time with.

I’m the face of his family, nothing more.

James is probably with a girl at this very moment, which honestly, I’m fine with.

When I have to give myself to him, or when he takes it because “we are married”, I hate it.

It is five minutes of rough, painful grunting and days of shame.

Still, he is my husband, and it is wrong of me to think about another person, especially a woman, while doing that .

I sigh, deciding a hot shower is very much needed.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek as I step out of my car and look at the back of the brick building called: Black Widow Ink .

This is Malcolm Switcher’s, or Mac ’s tattoo shop.

It wasn't hard to find when I did a web search. What I didn’t know is that Nora is a decorated soldier.

I wanted to look her up, but part of me felt like that was invading her privacy.

Plus, I am only here to give her a thank you for the items yesterday and be done.

I will be neighborly to her, but nothing more.

It can’t be any more, especially after last night, and then in the shower, and then my dreams again.

I’ve seen this woman twice and I’ve already screamed her name while orgasming more times than I have with James in our whole relationship—and they weren’t faked.

Opening the back hatch to my SUV, I pull out the large tray of pinwheel sandwiches and the container of my special peanut butter chocolate chip bars before walking around to the front of the tall building.

I open the front door and look around the shop.

The walls are covered in artwork. Some are intricate and dark, others bold and bright, and then there’s the multiple nude drawings.

I avert my gaze as I focus on the black front counter.

A young girl with bright pink hair smiles at me, showing off her gold piercing under the top of her lip.

“Can I help you?” she says over the buzzing noise.

“Uh… Nora? O-Or Mac?” She holds up a slender finger, signaling ‘one moment’ as she gets up and skips off. The buzzing stops, and shortly after, Mac comes out with Nora following close behind. I notice she still has her cane and I briefly wonder if her injury is permanent.

“Junebug!” Nora grins brightly, showing off her beautiful teeth as she walks from behind the counter. I try to ignore what that name does to me. Subconsciously I smooth the front of my grey pinstripe Thelma suspender pants and smile.

“I brought you guys lunch,” I say softly while setting the containers on the counter. “I hope you like Italian sandwiches.”

“Katilin, if you made it,” Mac says, eyeing the food, “trust me, it will be amazing.”

I give him a smile, though my heart aches.

I don’t get compliments on my food. Especially my baking since I’m too fat to eat sweets.

So hearing that others enjoy my food—it fills me with a sense of pride I haven’t felt in years.

“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt, I know you’re working.

I just wanted to say thanks for checking on me yesterday,” I say to Nora who gives me an alluring look that makes me feel like she knows what I did to myself yesterday.

I blush while rubbing my arms self-consciously.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work.” I go to leave but Nora grabs my arm.

“Hey, I have a client back there, but I get off work at eight tonight. You want to come over and watch a movie? This time maybe I could offer you food?”

My heart pounds in my chest. No, this visit and the food is supposed to even things out, to make it so we can be neighborly and that is it.

I stare at her and before I know I’m doing it, I give her a nod.

“That sounds awesome. But no action movies.

I don't like that stuff.” I grab a pen off the counter and write my number on a card.

“Here, in case something comes up and you need to cancel.”

Nora’s chocolate eyes brighten and her grin widens. “Not a chance in hell, Junebug. Come on over about eight-thirty. And wear something comfortable.” She chuckles as she squeezes my forearm before making her way to the counter.

“If either of you eat all that, I will end you,” she warns before winking back at me and leaving.

My blush deepens as I turn to leave. I walk out and notice Mac is following me. My body stiffens and he must notice because he gives me an easy smile.

“Don’t mind me, sweetheart, I don’t want you walking around here alone. We would’ve let you in the back had you called.” I smile appreciatively at him as we walk to my car.

“Nora seems to like you.” His confession makes me nearly stumble. “It’s good, she has an impossibly small circle and I worry about her. I am just glad she’s found a friend.”

A friend. A friend wouldn’t be screaming his sister's name as they orgasm around a vibrator because she gave them a teddy bear. God, I hate myself and now I was going to be at her house, alone, at night.

I am so fucked.