The Poison Morality

by Stacey Kathleen

  They walked the short distance to his flat. Mona’s hands roamed inside his shirt and caressed his chest, her lips traced the line of his jaw, and her tongue flicked at his lips teasingly but he turned his head away. His arm was around her, he staggered slightly. She was less intoxicated and took his keys from his hand and led the way.

  They were kissing heavily inside his doorway. He closed his eyes and wished it was Sophie. He was agitated again by what Mona had said previously and gently pushed her away. So much for the distraction, he thought. Mentally and emotionally he wasn’t into Mona tonight but his body defied this watching her slip out of her blouse and skirt.

  She approached to kiss him but he had enough of the taste of her on his lips. The smell of wine and cigarettes mixed with her perfume was disdainful. Feeling his hesitation, she jerked open his shirt in one swift move and started to undo his belt. Normally, he would have been kissing the smooth skin of her neck; he wanted to feel Sophie’s pulse under his lips. Focus, Oliver, you’re with Mona he thought.

  In a flurry she let his trousers drop to the floor and he stepped out of them, kicking them to the side, the belt buckle jangled. She slid the shirt off his shoulders, while his hand covered her breast, and he kissed her feverishly, the way he wanted to kiss Sophie. Sophie’s breast is smaller; he remembered, having accidentally brushed the side of it when he turned her to watch the couple on the stage. He stopped, his hands falling away from Mona.

  She continued kissing his chest, tickling his nipple, her hands sliding inside his shorts, pushing them down and he stepped out of them. He let her do what she wanted but was not so eager to return favour. If she noticed she didn’t say or act otherwise.

  She took off her bra and panties quickly. He walked away from her to get the condom and already had it on when she pulled him down on top of her. He slid inside her easily, already wet. He moved in and out of her, slowly, shallow, focusing on the wall beyond, not wanting to look at her and not wanting to think of Sophie either. Would she be smaller inside than Mona? He closed his eyes, his mind still fuzzy from the vodka, picturing Sophie. No, he had to stop thinking about her.

  Mona was talking; she liked to whisper about how he felt inside her, what she wanted him to do, her habit of verbalizing every naughty thought in her head. Usually it was stimulating for both of them but tonight Oliver couldn’t’ stand it. He put his hand gently over her mouth. She wasn’t talking anymore but moaning more and louder, obviously his attempt to stop her talking aroused her even more.

  When she met his thrusts in earnest, he moved deeper inside her and she dictated the speed with her hips. The lack of foreplay and his change in mood told her this was it for tonight; he was not like this, usually attentive to her needs. There was always foreplay before and his mouth between her legs always did the trick. She tightened her muscles around his member. Her legs squeezed his hips pulling them together.

  Mona removed his hand from her mouth, he did so without resistance and clasped his face and pulled his head to her, “Look at me.” Stopping, he did as she asked and then pulled from her and turned her over, one effortless move; she gave a little cry at the suddenness of the movement but smiled.

  He was inside her again. His hand pressed between her shoulder blades, pushing her down. Her backside pushed up to meet his hips. First he moved slowly and then increased; his breath became more ragged and animal like. The position opened her up more and he was able to go deeper in her than she ever felt. She shook and cried out, he could feel her muscles convulse and then he came too, falling forward on her.

  Bearing his weight without complaint, his breath tickled her shoulder and then he rolled off of her, sliding under the sheet. She was cold without the heat of him on her. It was unlike him to be so callous, usually such a generous lover, she supposed he had given the generosity to this new woman and he had none to spare. It wasn’t in him to have more than one lover at a time though. She got up and searched her coat pocket for her cigarettes, coming back in the bedroom with one in her mouth ready to light.

  “No,” he said, one hand behind his head staring at the ceiling. Spent and exhausted he just wanted her to go home but couldn’t suggest it. His mind started to clear and without the effects of the alcohol, he felt the guilt of what he did to both women and it was a heavy burden. He still was not completely satiated, wanting Sophie but having to settle for Mona not wanting to go another round with her either.

  “OK,” she said and replaced the cigarette. Once under the covers she laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Her naked breasts pressed against his ribs, the hair on his thigh tickled hers. Typically he caressed her hair and they talked until she fell asleep on him but he only let her lay there on him with no touching other than that.

  Breaking the unusual silence, she uttered, “This one must be different.”

  “This one what,” Oliver cringed, regretting the question as soon as it left his lips.

  “This woman or girlfriend, whatever you want to call her? You’re obviously not lovers yet, are you, or we wouldn’t have just had sex,” her lips moved against his chest as she spoke.

  She knew him. “Yes, she’s different, but we’re not together…yet, exactly,” he mumbled under his breath, not really answering her but satisfying himself with the comment.

  “Do you have strong feelings for her, is that it? Could it be love this early?” she asked bracing herself for the answer.

  “Do you really want me to answer that question?” The sound of his voice echoed through his chest and into her ear; her head lifting and lowering with his breath, contemplating if she wanted a more direct answer.

  “You’re evading a question with a question. That’s the indirect way men like to give answers to questions they don’t really want to answer. It’s about self-preservation not about saving my feelings.”

  Truth was, it was too early to have an answer but staying evasive seemed like the safe thing to do, leaving her to interpret as she would but on the other hand, he couldn’t deny that what she said was true. She deserved more than that. “Honestly, all I know is, I want to try to be with her, any way she will let me. It’s early days yet. I can’t say how anything will turn out, same with my other relationships, same as yours.”

  Mona rolled over off his chest onto his shoulder looking the opposite direction, chewing nervously on her fingernail. “It’s not about the sex then, you haven’t had sex with her?”

  “Does it matter?” He wished he had a drink beside him to take the edge off this conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  He thought she would be happy about that but she slumped, the air escaped, leaving her stunned. He wasn’t sure why she would take that badly.

  He loved her, whether he knew it or not but at least for the moment he was hers still. “Is that why you were so abrupt? You’ve never been like that before.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I,” truly concerned if he did.

  “Not physically. I liked it actually.”

  “Mona…,” Oliver sat up, pulling his arm from under her, she sat on the edge of the bed, her bare back to him, pulling the sheet up around her waist.

  “No, you don’t understand. I remained your friend because I knew the girlfriends you had in the past were not going to stick around. They’re not like us Oliver,” she twisted to look at him, clutching the sheet to her chest. “They don’t understand, what we do for people, it takes its toll,” he looked at her then, she was absolutely right. “We’re desensitized to a certain extent so we can get on with what we need to do at work but it spills over doesn’t it? But no matter how separated I become from the world outside, I….,” Mona hesitated, not sure she should say it but if he thought he loved this woman then he should know how she felt about him. Know all the facts before making any decisions, “I always know I will come back to you,” she paused, “because I love you.”

  Oliver sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, exasperated, �
��Oh no Mona,” he groaned.

  Mona let the tears that lingered on the rims of her eyes, flow, turning away from him again. That reaction broke her heart and there was nothing he could say that could make her feel worse.

  Oliver reached out to touch her but thought better of it. “I’m sorry Mona, I didn’t know. I thought…I thought we had an understanding and it was never more than that for me. I didn’t know you wanted more than that, if I did I wouldn’t have…,” he sighed, searching for the words.

  “Used me?” She stood up slinging her clothes on haphazardly, angry.

  “No more than you used me, Mona, be fair,” he sat propped up against the pillows.

  “If I make the decision my heart dictates I will be disappointed,” she sniffed back tears, “Better to be de-sensitized,” she nodded her head agreeing with herself and wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. “I thought eventually what we have would be enough for you, that you would give up on wanting more than that. I can’t help how I feel, Oliver,” finally looking at him, putting the fag in her mouth defying what he told her earlier and lighting it.

  “And I can’t help how I feel. I care about you as a colleague, as a friend, nothing more.”

  Standing by his bedside, dishevelled, she held the cigarette between her finger and looked down at him, “I would like to say that,” she took a deep drag and blew it out slowly, “I will get over you in time and we can be friends but the fact is, when she leaves because you’re not home enough and breaks your heart, I’ll be there for you, to pick up the pieces, as always.”

  “Mona,” Oliver started to stand but she put her hand up to stop him, if he touched her she won’t be able to say what she had to say.

  “No, don’t Oliver, I love you and I have to accept that you don’t love me the same way. I’m an adult, I can accept that,” tears rolled down her face. “If I could be just your friend, I would be happy for you when you found the love of your life but I could never feel happy that my Oliver loves someone else, the jealousy would consume me. If you fall in love with her then that’s it, if not, then things will stay just as they have always been between us. If that’s all I can have, I’ll take what I can get.”

  “I fear, eventually, I will turn out to be a disappointment to you,” he reached for her hand suddenly shameful at his own behaviour tonight.

  “Too late.” She allowed him to take it, contradicting what she said before, “As I said, we understand each other. Like the others, she will be a disappointment to you,” she pointed to him with the fingers holding the cigarette and took another draw off of it and dropped it in the glass of water that sat on the bedside table.

  “Perhaps,” he kissed her hand. Mona stormed off, slamming the door behind her.

  “Perhaps not,” he said out loud after she left.

  He didn’t know what to do about Sophie. Maybe he and Sophie will have the same conversation he just had with Mona but the other way around and he would be heartbroken, as Mona predicts.

  Chapter 18: Mariella Gives Love Advice

  “Oh my, you look like you lost your best friend,” Mary allowed Oliver to assist her with sitting up and he then pulled the chair up to the bedside.

  “No,” he stirred the yogurt in the bowl with a plastic spoon, “Well maybe, it’s not that simple.”

  “Shouldn’t a nurse be doing that?”

  “It’s fine,” holding the spoon to her lips.

  “Well then, Doctor, don’t make me waste my precious breath asking what you should be revealing,” she looked at the spoon and then Oliver. He knew what that look meant so he put the spoon in the bowl, the bowl on the table and rolled it to her.

  “You can’t be interested in my women problems,” he sat in the chair, one leg crossed over, watching to make sure she didn’t need assistance.

  “Women? More than one,” she was keenly interested. “Friends, girlfriends, or lovers,” Mary took a while to get the spoon to her lips, her hand shook but she was diligent. “You won’t be judged by me. You’re a young, handsome doctor. You should shag every chance you get and I’m sure you get plenty of opportunities.”

  “You don’t think I should get married, settle down,” the question was a sincere one. That was the advice he had received since he was in med school by the majority of his women patients, some men too.

  “My God, no,” she was able to take the bite and hold it down, once she swallowed, she continued, “I was married twice. I loved one and was in love with the other. Guess which one broke my heart more? Now here I am, dying, with only a doctor with women problems to keep me company,” he noticed she only filled the spoon half full and managed that better so he didn’t intervene. After the first initial rounds of the chemo, she was making some progress. “Are you in love? Go on, then. If it’s interesting, you will keep me entertained if not, you’ll put me to asleep, it’s good for me any way you tell it and you will feel better by talking out your problems.”

  “All right then,” he relaxed into the chair, hands behind his head. “A while back I met a girl. Well not a girl, a woman, but sometimes she seems like a girl still.”

  “Meaning she’s young, fragile, what?” He smiled at her progress on the yogurt.

  “Meaning….,” Oliver put his hands back on the arms of the chair, thinking how he would describe Sophie, “I think she’s damaged.”

  “Oh well, join the club, I say.”

  “She yearns for…normal things.”

  “What’s normal anyway?” Her shaking hand picked up the napkin and she wiped her mouth, putting it neatly back on the table.

  “I’ve helped her but she has no regard for her own safety. I just want to be her friend and I know she wants that too but she’s so resistant.”

  “Just her friend? Are you sure she’s interested and not just what you’re hoping for making you blind?”

  “I think that’s all she can give at least for now and yes, I’m sure. But there’s some deeper tale there, obviously. When you’re in a position to help people, you do it, no matter what form that takes.” He stopped, contemplating, “I feel obligated to her,” he nodded, agreeing with himself over what he felt.

  Mary pushed the table away; the effort of eating was beginning to be too much for her. “Ah so you think its fate or you just feel sorry for her? Do you want her to need you?”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that? I don’t think she thinks she needs anyone but she does. She does things, dangerous things. Things that some would think were…,” he was trying to find the right way to word it, “morally apprehensible.”

  “How romantic,” she said sarcastically and sighed lying back on the pillows, “swept away on the waves of love until the tide rolls in crashing on the rocks of hope and disappointment so that you can wash ashore bewildered.” Oliver was always amused at Mary’s ability to randomly break into poetic verse. “And these things are they things you can’t see beyond? Do you not find them morally apprehensible?”

  “I don’t care about that because I think I at least know there’s a reason. I want to know everything beyond it,” he remembered Sydney, “She’s a pawn in someone else’s game, I think.”

  “So ‘morally apprehensible’ is fine as long as there’s a reason,” she scoffed, “that’s a very loose interpretation you have especially for a doctor.”

  “I’ve seen too much, I’m not appalled by what anyone does.”

  “I take it she’s not the lover, then,” Mariella stated, finding the “girl” to be a boring subject, she would rather hear about the lover.

  “No,” Oliver sighed, running his fingers through his hair and leaning his elbows on his knees, “I’ve disappointed her because after a few years of sex, no strings attached, she tells me she loves me.”

  “And you didn’t see that coming,” her thin brows, sceptically.

  Oliver stared at the floor, imagining both women, and looked at Mary astounded. “She never let on, not for a moment.” The conversation was taking a lot out of her bu
t she wanted to know about the doctor’s love life, it was the only entertainment she had.

  “No offense, but you’re a man, she probably did reveal a little, you just didn’t notice. Don’t give her hope if you’re not planning to fulfil it. Anything you do or say, she will construe to her own ends. If you don’t love her, cut the ties and as for this other girl, be sure not to confuse the rolls of hero and heroine to love on a real level. There’s a big difference between needing and wanting someone. She’s got to want you, not need you.” She slid down and Oliver got up to assist her.

  “What do you mean,” Oliver put Mary’s arms under the blanket and covered her up.

  “I mean, sometimes, we define a person inside our head but then we’re disappointed when it turns out they are not only human but not with the attributes we’ve created, therefore we have fallen in love with a person that doesn’t really exist. Are you sure you’re not just interested in her because you think you can take care of her better than she can?”

  “I don’t know if I can or not. She would say she can take care of herself. I can see that she’s melancholy, sometimes afraid of typical things but brave when it comes to things most people would cower from. There’s something in her past that lingers, but how do I tell her there’s a whole world out there that she’s missing out on, be her friend, maybe more one day,” he shrugged, “Who knows.”

  “You don’t tell her, show her. Find out what she likes, what makes her happy by exposing her to things, experiences. The things she likes, show her more, and let her come around to her own conclusions. All you have to be is observant and patient.”

  “I have been observant because she has a barrier that she hides behind,” he said definitively.

  “Don’t try to knock it down. Take it down brick by brick use them to rebuild a foundation. Once she trusts you, she will start to see what you see in her. If she crumbles, you’ll be there to pick up the pieces.” Mary’s eyes grew heavy and she yawned, her words coming out slower.