Stanton Unconditional

by T L Swan

  I giggle as I shake my head. “You are an idiot,” I whisper.

  “Yeah funny, she said that too.”

  I have to admit this stupid banter really does get my mind off things. The interview begins and we fall silent. I sit riveted to my seat.

  “Are we being watched today?” Coby asks he looks at the double-sided glass.

  “Yes,” Henry replies.

  “Is Natasha here today?” he sneers.

  I frown. How does he know my name?

  “It is none of your concern who is here as a witness today,” Henry replies calmly.

  Coby smiles at the screen. “Natasha, dear, I have something of yours in my possession.”

  I frown and Jesten leans over to me. “Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to mess with you. He does it to everyone.”

  I nod as I swallow the lump in my throat. “Ok, thanks,” I whisper.

  He smiles at the screen again. “It smells divine, Natasha.”

  God, he’s creepy. I start to sweat as fear grips me.

  “It’s pink and perfect. Tell me dear … was it a tight fit?” he questions.

  Huh … what the hell? My eyes widen in horror as his sick eyes look straight through me.

  “Tell me, how many orgasms have you had on that vibrator, Natasha? Do they feel good? Do they feel like cock?”

  My face drops. Holy fuck. I stand in a rush and run for the door. Oh my god … it was him. He’s got it. How … how did he even know who I am? Who was in my apartment? I run into the hallway and feel Jesten’s arm around my waist.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers.

  My eyes are wide and before I can think what I am saying I blurt out. “My house was robbed last week and my vibrator was stolen and he has it.”

  He frowns. “What?”

  I nod frantically. “It was pink and he just asked me how many orgasms I had on it. What the hell is that about?” I snap.

  “Jesus, stay in here. I will go and get someone,” he mutters.

  “No, don’t leave me. What if he gets me?” I stammer as I grab onto his shirt in fright.

  “He’s not getting you, Doc. Calm down.” He runs off somewhere.

  I wring my hands in front of me and I ring Max’s number in a panic.

  “Hello, Max, come and get me,” I stammer.

  “Sure I’m out the front. What’s up?” he replies.

  “Just wait there. I’m coming out,” I cry.

  “Ok, what’s wrong?” he snaps.

  I hang up in a panic.

  I burst out of the bathroom and run straight into Jesten.

  “Jesus.” He snaps as he grabs my arms. “Hey, calm down,” he whispers as he pulls me into an embrace.

  My heart is racing as I am gripped with anguish. I am wrapped in his embrace as he tries to comfort my fear. My arms are wrapped around his broad back, he smells good, masculine, warm. I feel a frisson of arousal sweep through me and I pull back in shock as I frown.

  He sweeps the hair back from my damp forehead and looks down at me … huh?

  Henry comes through the door in a rush. “Natasha, are you ok?” he asks.

  Oh god, embarrassment sweeps over me and I pull out of Jesten’s grip. I do not want all of these people knowing I have a vibrator.

  “Can we talk in private please, Henry?”

  He smiles sympathetically. “Sure dear. Meet me in the office at reception.”

  I nod. “Ok, I just want to freshen up.” I walk into the bathroom and put my face into my hands. The James Bond movie has now turned into Quentin Tarantino … fucked up horror movie. I start to giggle uncontrollably. Even if I imagined this shit, I couldn’t fucking imagine it. I need a strong drink.

  Jesten walks into the bathroom. “You ok?”

  I smile, embarrassed. “Yes, sorry.”

  He cuddles me and for some reason I melt into his arms again. What am I doing?

  He smirks at me. “Why in the hell does a chick as hot as you need a vibrator?” He smiles into my forehead.

  I feel my face go bright red and I pull out of his grip—that just feels too familiar. I scratch my head in horror. “No comment.”

  He giggles. “Don’t worry when you’re my girl you won’t need one. Don’t bother replacing it.”

  “Stop it,” I snap. “I am not your girl and I am not going to be your girl. Stop deluding yourself.”

  I walk out of the bathroom in a huff and down to the office to have the most embarrassing conversation of my life.

  I sit in my office as the intercom speaks. “Amelie is here to see you.” The receptionist’s bored voice echoes through the room. My eyes close in regret. I knew this was coming. I have been back in LA for two weeks and I haven’t heard from her. I was hoping that I wouldn’t. I put the heel of my palms into my eye sockets. “Send her in,” I reply flatly.

  I swivel on my chair with my eyes down. I’m furious with her. I know she’s hurt but the pain she has brought me is unforgivable. I never meant for any of this shit to happen.

  The sound of her heels click on the marble through the huge room and I raise my eyes slowly to meet hers.

  “Hello Joshua,” she whispers nervously.

  My eyes stare through her and I run my tongue over my front top teeth. “Hello, Amelie.”

  She stands still and waits for me to speak. I don’t.

  “Are you going to speak to me?” she asks as her eyes fill with tears.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” I reply coldly as I twist on my chair.

  “Joshua please.” She bursts into tears. “I love you, I had to tell Natasha. I couldn’t be dishonest.” She sobs.

  I frown in disgust. “I would have told her—it wasn’t your place to hurt her like that.” My anger rises.

  She frowns. “You weren’t going to tell her,” she snaps. “Why didn’t you tell her you love me?”

  I screw up my face. “Because I don’t. You’re delusional, it was five minutes of shit sex Amelie. I have never regretted something so much in my life!” I shout.

  He face falls. “You regret it?” she questions.

  “Of course!” I yell. “I make myself fucking sick that I have hurt her like this. She is a good person and she didn’t deserve any of this. I will never, ever forgive you for the way you treated her.”

  I watch as her expression changes from one of hurt to anger. “Tell me … did she tell you that she told me to back off from your money in the toilets when I told her we were in love?”

  “Stop lying,” I snap as my skin starts to crawl.

  “Think about it, Joshua, she leaves you at the drop of a hat. She has no regards for your feelings. It doesn’t sound like she loves you at all or if she ever did.”

  “Shut up!” I scream as I jump from my chair.

  “She actually gets off on your pain,” she sneers.

  “Get out!” I scream.

  I turn my back on her and look out the window.

  “Tell me, Joshua, how many times have you tried to contact her and been ignored?”

  I don’t answer.

  “She will never make you happy, Joshua.”

  “Get out!” I reply with my back to her. “I’m done.”

  “So what did they say then?” Abbie frowns and I shrug. “Apparently he has done this before. He reads the police reports and tries to scare people.”

  “Get a new job, this shit is too weird,” Bridget gasps.

  I nod. “I know.”

  We are at Milson’s, a bar in Pitt Street. We can’t go to any of our normal hangouts because Abbie is hiding from army guy the man Abbie is sort of dating. Apparently he’s getting all possessive and jealous and she’s not coping—it was only a matter of time. The music has a distinct R&B feel, very different to our normal dance kind of places.

  The walls are painted gold and it has big brass pendant lights that hang over huge wooden benches, and you sit on what could possibly be the most uncomfortable stools in the history of the world.

  “So the p
olice think he has read the police report about the robbery and then has purposely tried to scare you,” Bridget sips her margarita as she listens.

  “Aha, they accessed his computer and he was looking up some illegal website of local crime and he had also googled me,” I shiver at the thought.

  “Shit. Thank god you don’t have any social media.”

  “This is why I don’t. Do you think he really does have my vibrator? What if he was telling the truth?” I sip my drink again.

  “He’s in maximum security—he doesn’t have your damn vibrator.” Abbie pulls a disgusted face.

  I blow out a breath as I scull my margarita and Bridget bubbles up a giggle.

  “What?” I say deadpan.

  “This is actually funny, this last week you have been having. Just how many black cats have you run over?” Bridget asks.

  I smile and shrug. “I don’t know… maybe a huge one. Like a fucking Jaguar or something.” We all giggle and our next round of drinks arrive. I hand over my credit card.

  “I would like to propose a toast.” Bridget smiles and we all raise our glasses.

  “To no more sadness.” Their eyes meet mine.

  I smile sheepishly. “Sorry girls, I know I have been a nightmare lately.”

  “Not to mention fucking boring,” Abbie snaps.

  I nod and smile as I lick the salt from my glass. “I will endeavour to be more fun, just for you Abbie.” I raise my glass to her.

  She does an exaggerated nod. “Good … about time. I would hate to have to trade you in.”

  The waitress returns. “Excuse me, your credit card has been declined.” She hands me the card.

  “Oh god,” I stammer. “I will have to transfer money—I’m so broke.”

  Bridget hands over her credit card and I start to log into my internet banking on my phone.

  “It’s good to have a phone again,” I remark as I concentrate on the screen. I’m having trouble reading it without my glasses so I hand my phone to Bridget.

  “Here, can you transfer $300 for me onto my credit card?”

  She takes the phone off me and I take a sip of my drink.

  “Check out the fabulous shoulders on that guy at the bar,” Abbie smirks

  I turn and look. “Hmm, not bad. Seven.”

  “No way, nine,” she replies.

  I smile as my eyes flick back to Bridget who is frowning at my phone.

  “What?” I frown.

  “How much is seven zeros?”

  “Huh, what do you mean?” I ask.

  “I think you have three million dollars in your account.”

  I frown as I snatch my phone from her and I look at the screen. “Huh.”

  Abbie snatches the phone from me. “Fuck off. No way. That’s thirty million.”

  I look at the screen: $30 000 000.00. What the hell is that?

  “How many drinks have we had?” I stammer.

  I scroll through to transactions:

  Deposit$30 000 000.00Stanton

  “Fuck off, what’s that?” Abbie asks, wide-eyed.

  I scull my drink and Abbie immediately puts her hand in the air to order another round.

  My heart drops. “I’m guessing it’s my divorce settlement,” I whisper as my eyes fill with tears, and the finality of the situation sinks in. I don’t want his money, I want him.

  “How long were you with him?” Abbie snaps.

  “Three months,” I whisper as I stare at the screen.

  “That’s ten million a month, that’s two and a half million a week.” Bridget frowns.

  The waitress comes over and Abbie snaps. “We will have nine margaritas and do you have any cigars?” Bridget and I frown at her.

  “Yes,” the waitress replies.

  “We will have three cigars and a lighter please,” Abbie asks the waitress.

  I raise my eyebrows at her in question.

  “He’s a stupid fuck, let’s spend the lot,” Abbie sneers.

  I sit with my head resting in my hands. What the hell.

  I immediately text Joshua.

  I don’t want your money.

  A text bounces immediately back.

  Liar

  “Liar,” I snap. “He’s such an asshole. He’s calling me a liar because I said I don’t want his money.” The waitress arrives with our cigars and Abbie lights hers immediately.

  “Oh get off it. What an idiot,” she tutts as she takes a drag of her cigar. “He could have broken my heart for a hundred grand.”

  Bridget laughs out loud and chokes on her drink. “I would have done it for fifty.”

  I text.

  For what it’s worth, Joshua.

  You will always be the love of my life.

  “What are you texting?” Bridget tries to grab my phone from me. It beeps again.

  Liar

  If that was the case,

  you would be here with me now.

  I scull my drink and light my cigar as I try to think of a comeback. I’m not with you Joshua because I love you.

  “What time is it in LA?” I ask the girls as I narrow my eyes.

  “Um, it’s Friday night ten o’clock … so in LA it’s … fifteen hours behind us. Seven in the morning,” Bridget answers.

  You know I would be with you if I could.

  We want different things, Josh.

  It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.

  A message bounces back.

  You don’t get to say that to me anymore.

  You have brought me to my knees for the last time.

  Stay the fuck out of my life.

  I never want to see you again.

  Chapter 11

  July 14

  Dear Diary,

  It has been three weeks since my beautiful Joshua left Australia, and his absence has left a massive hole in my heart, in my life. I have a sick feeling in my stomach all the time. Every time I eat I have to run to the bathroom. I can’t even vomit effectively now, I just dry retch continually. What can I do right? I’m a mess. I have lost so much weight I look like a skeleton. I never knew the effects of stress could be so damn horrific. The nightmares, the migraines, the insomnia. I have seen my psychologist three times this week. I need to get on top of these nightmares. I’m a walking petrified time bomb. What if they are true? What if they are a premonition? What if I lose my love to death and I never get to tell him how desperately I love him? I wish I could ring him. I want to tell him that I am desperate to share my life with him but I need him to be sure that it is me that he wants, before he wrecks our love completely. He is the only man I will ever love and if I can’t have him, I will have no one. My psychologist is the only one who understands why I have done this to myself. I love Joshua so much that I fear it’s abnormal. How can I turn my life around?

  July 29

  Dear Diary

  I went to the bank today. I feel sick. I don’t want his money. The cheque that was written in my blood. The more I think about it the more I know he has moved on with Amelie. He put that money into my account in guilt. His last words to me were I never want to see you again. At Amelie’s insistence, I’m sure. I don’t want his money, I want his love. I want him to love me like he did when he was just my Josh, my beautiful Josh. I want to remove the last twelve months of my life. I want my dad back, like a do-over. I can’t bear this pain.

  August 17

  Dear Diary

  I went out clubbing for the first time last night, a total disaster. I had three drinks, burst into tears and left. I was in bed before eleven. Max is the only one who understands my level of grief. He gave the other guard the night off so he could come out. He knew I wouldn’t handle things well. What’s wrong with me? Will I ever recover?

  November 12

  Dear Diary

  I have been in tears all day and couldn’t go to work. It’s Joshua’s birthday today. Did she make him a cake? Did she sing happy birthday to him? I went to Oscar’s today while Max stayed outside, ordered a cupcake and then s
at on my own and cried as I ate it. I’m fucking losing it.

  Happy Birthday my beautiful Lamborghini. I miss you.

  December 17

  Dear Diary

  It is one week till Christmas. I heard Mum crying tonight when she went to bed. Her heart is broken because of me. I killed my father, I pushed away the love of my life and now he’s with her. I hope he’s happy. Are you happy Joshua? I hope this has all been worth it. I have to put up the Christmas tree tomorrow and all I really want to do is burn the fucking thing down. Maybe I might move to London, I need a change.

  December 26

  Dear Diary

  I cried most of yesterday—it was a bad day for all concerned. I have started eating for China or Willy Wonka… not sure. I rang Joshua last night, but he didn’t answer—as if he would. I need to move on. I need to get over this. Millions of people go through relationship breakdowns every day and they get through it. I thought Cameron and Adrian might have called me—they didn’t. Figures. Bridget and Abbie and I are going to the beach today with Abbie’s army guy. Can’t bloody wait. I’m thinking of getting a kitten.

  December 31

  Dear Diary

  It’s New Year’s Eve and I know he’s fucking with her. I hate him. His life has not changed and mine is in tatters. I have been dancing all night with Gran and Mum to Beyonce. Tomorrow I start a new year and I am not doing another year like this one. Bridget just called me and tried to get me to go the Ivy but I’m going to bed. It’s 12.30. Bring on the next year.

  January 15

  Dear Diary

  I have been going out—it’s actually ok. I have even had coffee with Jes a few times. It’s been fun. It feels good to laugh again. Jeremy admitted he has been seeing someone from work and he and Bridget broke up. She went on a date with someone else a week later—why can’t I do that? I need to sleep with somebody else.

  February 14

  It’s Valentine’s Day. Who invented this shit?

  I got roses from Jes and asked on three dates. It’s been six months since I last saw Joshua but I am still not ready, I’m staying home and eating Ben and Jerry’s instead. Joshua will probably propose to bitchvet today. She can have him.