Written in the Stars

by Jennifer Martinez

  What started as something casual slowly became something serious. Keys were eventually exchanged and while we still only saw each other a few nights a week, we talked every day. Things were awesome at first. We both got exactly what we wanted, then my heart started to melt. One night, I realized I wasn't the only person he was with. I think it was something I always knew but it didn't bother me until my heart decided to get involved. I couldn't handle having to share him with someone else but he refused to become exclusive. I broke off our relationship and relegated us back to the friend zone.

  We would still hang out but we would go our separate ways at the end of the night and that was that. I was not going to be used.

  One night, after another romp with my friend Jose Cuervo, things got real. I knew better than to drink and drive and Kevin had been really good about keeping our new boundaries. I decided it was safer to stay the night there than risk hurting myself or worse, someone else, by driving home. It felt natural sleeping in Kevin's bed and I would have never imagined what would happen next. I woke up to his hand flirting dangerously with my thighs. Assuming he was asleep, I moved his hand back to his side of the bed. When it immediately came back, I knew how wrong I was. I told him no, that was not happening. We were not friends with benefits any more. He knew better. He also knew he was stronger than me. He pinned me down onto the bed, telling me how much I wanted to fuck him and how if I was in his bed, I was paying the rent. I started to freak out and fight him. No matter how many times I said no, he wouldn't listen. The more I fought, the more excited he became. I finally got a hand free and tried clawing my way out of his grip but this only made him angry. I will never forget the pain and fear that shocked my body as his knuckles made contact with my cheek. I thought that was the end; I didn't think I would make it out. My survival instincts kicked in and I was able to get away from him. I grabbed my purse and ran out of the house barefoot and scared for my life. At that point, the drive home was far safer than staying there. I never talked to Kevin again. I heard his story about the cuts on his face through the grapevine of local musicians and groupies, and it was far from the truth. Apparently, I got too kinky and he kicked me to the curb. I really didn't care what he said because I knew the truth. All men lie and none were to be trusted.

  CHAPTER 4

  The man who caught me

  To say men scared me after that was an understatement. I had never been so scared in my entire life. The dichotomy of power amazed me. It had the ability to enthrall or enslave. I spent the next four years keeping men at a distance. I adopted a very serious three week rule. I would date a man for three weeks and then never speak to him again. It was my own personal security system. If I never trusted anyone or let them get close to me, I could never be put in that situation again.

  I ended up graduating college top of my class with honors. I had three months until I left for my Greenpeace tour and wanted to make some money so I got a job at a local ultra lounge. The money was good and I got to wear and say whatever I wanted which was a total plus. I had become accustomed to men and women asking me out and was pretty good at deflecting it most of the time.

  One night, when I was in a particularly foul mood, I was graced with a VIP party. Usually I would be all about it, flirt with the guys for a better tip and make sure they were happy, but I was just not in the mood. I started at one end of the roped off section taking drink orders. Four Jack on the rocks, two Glenlivets, three craft beers and at the end of the table, the pretty boy of the group asked for a Cosmo. I don't think I could have stopped myself if I had even wanted to.

  I snorted and responded, “Would you like a pink umbrella in that too? How about a flower? Don't worry hun, I won't forget your cherry. I know you love your shit fruity.” While he was busy picking his jaw up off the floor, his friends began teasing him. I marched off to get their orders while unbeknownst to me, the men started taking bets. I returned with their drinks and tapas and it took a while for GQ to look me in the eye again. He finally came around after nearly running me over leaving from the bathroom.

  “Oh crap, sorry.” He said, removing his foot from its location on top of my new boots.

  “Watch where you're going lady.” I replied.

  “I have a name you know.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Well you see, all people have them. They are the words used to differentiate people from one another.”

  I smiled and replied, “Oh, a name. Let me guess, Marsha? No, you look more like a Brittany.”

  He shook his head, “My name is Steve. And yours is... Maleficent?”

  “Na, that's my mom. My name is McKinzie. Everyone calls me Mack.”

  “Well Mack. You are a lot prettier when you smile.”

  This time, it was my turn to pick my jaw up off the floor. He just knocked me down and walked away. No one just walks away from me; it was on. He had a sarcastic streak that could prove entertaining and I did need a pick me up. I was only juggling two suppliers of free dinners at the time and easily had space for Steve in my schedule.

  Our run around game of insult and return went on for the rest of the night. When it was finally closing time, Steve walked up to me and said, “I usually don't do this because girls usually can't keep up with us. Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow?” I nodded and wrote my number on his hand before waving goodbye. If he called, free food. If not, I always have a backup plan.

  Steve called and we went out the next night. This time, we actually spent some time conversing and I was shocked to find out he was actually pretty intelligent. He was a stockbroker for a huge firm and was constantly traveling to different cities. He just kept getting better and better. He wasn't looking for a relationship, just a friend. I joked about him taking all his friends out to dinner and he told me the exciting and adventurous tale of the last time he tried to cook. Apparently, it ended so bad they had to replace the wall paper. At the end of the night we hugged and went our separate ways. We didn't see each other or talk for a few weeks after that. I had nearly forgotten about him when he called me to go out to the lake with him and all his friends. I had the day off and was always down for some wake boarding so I agreed.

  We had a lot of fun. His friends were awesome, a lot like him. They were all intelligent and entertaining. We spent our days talking about all the places we had visited and made bets on everyone’s wakeboarding skills. One of his friends was a professional chef so we had an amazing barbeque lunch and by sunset, we were all ready to go downtown.

  All of us met back up two hours later in the center of downtown. We went to a new bar called Nirvana that had one floor dedicated to drinking and a second floor for dancing. The more time I spent with Steve and his friends, the more I realized I may want to keep this kid around. His friends were awesome and they were all easy going. As long as I kept it platonic, this could be the start of an awesome friendship. The night continued on and we kept rotating between the two floors. When the end of the night finally arrived, we all said our goodbyes. Steve walked me to my car and as I was going for the platonic hug, he decided to go for the let’s see if you give it in kiss.

  A few months later, Steve and I were still hanging out. He had already surpassed my three week rule but we also still hadn't gone all romantic. Everything was always friendly and full of sibling rivalry. It wasn't until I got sick that things changed. I was getting my last round of shots before heading to South Africa with Greenpeace when I had an allergic reaction. The vaccine didn't take and I was given bench duty. I ended up working in the satellite office in our town directing volunteers to the places that needed them. He didn't hear from me for a couple days after the reaction and got scared. He showed up at my house and found me ten pounds lighter and practically see through; I was so pale. Instead of ditching out and telling me to call when I was better, he rented movies and ordered carry out.

  He didn't leave my apartment for three days. During that time, he started rubbing my back, kissing my forehead and
getting motherly. I suppose I could blame my weakened immune system and lack of energy for letting the walls protecting my heart drop. He snuck in there when I least expected it and I had become attached to the goofball. His crooked smile became endearing, his warm hugs safe. Everything about him began to feel like home and I didn’t want to think about the time when he would have to leave. When it was finally time for him to go up to Chicago for his company’s big annual meeting, we finally had the awkward conversation. Neither of us was comfortable with either of us seeing other people while he was out of town. Somehow I had gone from “I hate men” to “in a relationship” without ever knowing it.

  Steven was proving to be everything I wanted in a man. He was kind, gentle, caring, great with kids and he cared about me. He listened when I said things and never tried to push me to do things I didn’t want to do. The more time I spent with him the more I hated my time away from him. He has weaseled into my world and I can’t say I minded. I was actually excited to have met him and happy to have him in my life.

  Steve came back to town the next weekend and we exchanged house keys. It took a while for me to get it out but I eventually told him about Kevin and how that whole situation still affected me. He assured me he would be completely respectful and we continued in a peaceful existence watching movies and cuddling. Weeks turned to months and months turned to years. All of our friends were harassing us about setting a wedding date; we always just laughed it off. He was good to me but I wasn't sure if I was ready for marriage. I still had a lot of unresolved issues and we still hadn't gotten past first base.

  I get to travel with him for his yearly conferences and this year it was in LA. He went to college at UCLA and knew the area well. I spent my days drawing while he was at the conference. And in the evening, he would take me around the city.

  It was September thirteenth when we walked down the Santa Monica Pier to watch the sunset. Never in a million years would I have guessed what would happen next. We were looking out over the reds and pinks reflecting from the waters surface when a violin started playing behind us. I turned around to see a four person orchestra set up and playing Mozart. I spun around to get Steve's attention but instead of finding him looking out at the water, he was on one knee with a baby blue box in his hand.

  “When I met you, I had no intention of dating. I hated women as much as you hated men. The more I learned about you though, the more addicted I became. You have been my friend and confidant for three years and I know we both have things we need to work out. But I also know that my life will never be complete without you in it. Will you please, pretty please with a cherry on top because I know you like it fruity, marry me?”

  All I could do was nod as the tears welled up in my eyes. I had no idea he was planning to propose. It wasn't something we had ever talked about. It made perfect sense though. We really were perfect for each other. We had become the best of friends and rarely ever argued. I loved him and I was ready to take that next step, start a family and finally get my philanthropic spot at a museum. My plan finally worked out.

  CHAPTER 5

  Mr. and Mrs. Steve Michaels

  Steve and I planned the wedding for the next spring. We were both big on the extravagances for our wedding; you only get married once after all. We had the date set, March 31, 2009. We decided on a beautiful garden wedding with all different hues of green, brown and white. The aisle would be lit by tea light candles set in mason jars and the guests would be seated on log benches. It was a wedding David Tutera would be jealous of. We had a live orchestra play for the wedding and a fifties style big band play the reception. Everything we used for the wedding was recyclable and eco friendly.

  The day of the wedding came and I cannot say I was without nerves. I hadn't been with anyone in years and this was going to be my wedding night. Sex was pretty much expected now. Hazel was my maid of honor and my rock throughout the day. We sat in the dressing room getting our makeup and hair done while sipping champagne and talking about how much things had changed since college. Having her by my side calmed my nerves and made me feel better. When it was finally time to finish getting ready, I stepped into my princess style ball gown with a crystal and pearl beaded bodice and was ready to go. My auburn hair was pinned up with white jasmine flowers and crystals perfectly ornamenting my cascading curls. My bouquet was hand crafted with found objects from a local thrift store. It was a beautiful dome of pearls, crystals and green buttons all forgotten by someone else from another time.

  It was finally time to walk down the aisle. The orchestra was playing and Hazel was waiting at the altar with Steve looking anxiously for his bride. I locked arms with my father and began the slow walk down the petal sprinkled path between one hundred of our closest friends and family, to the podium made of intertwined vines and roots. The topiaries that framed our ceremony held the solar lighting that would give this day its perfect final touches. After the wedding, each tree would be planted in the garden to grow for eternity, like our love. I hugged my father and walked up to my future husband. We held hands the entire ceremony and when the justice said “you may now kiss the bride,” we did.

  The reception was just as beautiful as the wedding. The benches were moved to the edges and everyone’s shoes went in a giant pile. We spent the evening dancing in our bare feet in the softest grass I have ever stepped on. Our friends were all so happy and our families were elated. Neither of them thought we would ever settle down and the fact that we did was a whole different dream come true for them.

  The end of the night came and we walked down the lit path to our treehouse suite. It was a beautiful suite with a bedroom, a fully functional bathroom and an amazing view of the forest. It was like being an owl, sitting atop the highest tree looking out and seeing only your future. The moment of truth arrived and I exchanged my beautiful gown for a white lace dress. I walked out of the bathroom in my dress with my hair loose and makeup removed to find him sitting at the edge of the bed still wearing his tuxedo pants and staring at me in awe. The look in his eyes was of pure adoration and I finally felt safe. I walked up to him and strattled his lap, lavishing him with kisses.

  I ran my fingers through his thick blonde hair and whispered into his ear, “I love you, husband.”

  He wrapped his strong arms around my waist, looked at me with those honest, beautiful baby blues and replied, “And I love you, my wife, my soul mate and my best friend.”

  My whole body was infected by his words and I gently pushed him back onto the bed. We spent hours exploring each others bodies with our hands before we finally found ourselves naked, tangled in the sheets and ready for the next step.

  I was lying on my back with my hair fanned out across the pillow and his perfect, beefy body protecting me from the cold.

  He kissed my nose before whispering in my ear, “Are you sure you're ready? We can wait if you still want time.”

  I shook my head no and pulled his face towards mine before kissing him with all the emotion in my heart. I was happy, safe and ready to take on the rest of my life with Steven Michaels by my side. He slowly began to tease me with his sturdy member, loosening up the muscles that hadn't been used in years. It was a lot like my first time, sore but amazing and beautiful like butterflies in a summer field. We moved as one, rocking and swaying to the rhythm of our love, trying desperately to show each other how we really felt. This was what true love felt like. I never thought I'd find it again, not after the first time.

  They say the first year of marriage is the hardest but I think that is a load of crap. The first year was easy. We were still getting used to each other and I was lucky enough to get a home office position with Greenpeace, so the house was always clean and dinner was always ready when he got home. We went dancing on the weekends and ate family dinners with my folks at least once a week. Everything was Stepford perfect in my mind. It wasn't until our second year that things started to change.

  It was little things at first. I shouldn't put on makeup to go to t
he grocery store in the middle of the day because it made me look desperate. If board meetings ran late at the museum, I was being unfaithful. Then things started to get really bad. The lawn service left a pair of work gloves on our fence and he threw a chair through the sliding glass door. By our third year of marriage, it was more like a balancing act, trying to keep him sane and me alive.

  The worst day was when he found a pair of socks that didn't belong to him. His friend George had recently come to stay at our house with his wife for a mini vacation and he left a pair of socks lost in the sheets of the spare bed. When I washed the linens, I found them and assumed they were Steve's. He had been working out of town a lot more recently and had done some shopping on his own. When he found the socks in his dresser drawer, he lost it. I had no idea what he was angry about at first and assumed it had something to do with his job. When he became aggressive towards me, he started rambling about knowing for awhile and how I was nothing but a cheap whore.

  The first thing he threw was the socks. That was what sparked my realization. I tried explaining to him that they were his friends and that he had left him at the house during the trip but the more I talked, the angrier he got. I was walking towards my office to lock myself in when he grabbed me by the arm and hit me for the first time. Time stood still as the blood began to trickle down my face. I was shocked, scared and completely helpless. I knew in that moment exactly what I had to do, but at the right time.

  The months passed and I started hording away money. I split up my paycheck to go into an account he didn't know existed and started counting down the days until I could leave. No one hurts me and gets away with it. Eight months later, it was time. I contacted an old friend from college who had become a divorce lawyer and we drafted the paperwork, filed the restraining order and moved me out of the house while he was out of town for work. We had planned everything perfectly, documenting the abuse and filing everything. This was not going to be an easy battle to win, but I would not go down without a fight.