- Sugar, I’d like to talk to you seriously.
She slightly wriggled while the sheets wrapped around her naked legs. The spongy softness of her body revealed itself to Victor in all its glory.
- What is it? What do you want to talk about?
- About us, Sugar. About us!
- Oh, you again with the same old story. We’ve already told each other everything.
- You think so?
- I’m absolutely sure of it.
He leaned over her body and said in a pleading voice:
- Sugar, I beg you to forgive me. Every lie, even my own, seeks forgiveness.
She was still sleepy, but her mind swiftly cleared and her eyelashes parted. She looked at him askew, her blood boiling from anger, and glumly retorted:
- And what am I supposed to forgive you?
He hesitated, picking out words in his mind:
- I’ve behaved like a real bastard – he said.
Her face became adamant, she almost told him to shut up because she hated his voice – crude, uneven and pleading. But, she chose not to react to verbal repent with rudeness. She just said:
- There’s good and bad in all of us. But it seems to me that the bad is more lucrative nowadays.
He was thrilled that she even wanted to talk to him. She could, like she did many times before, simply turn her back on him, shove her head in the pillow and leave him to talk about his deeds with himself. His eyes tightened from the received attention.
- The damage I’ve done never brought me a bit of benefit, believe me. It only brought me pain and suffering.
- Surely, you didn’t think like that when you were spending your time lying next to Tatum. I think she was always on your mind: you kissed her in dreams and in reality, you spoke soft words to her, whispered in her ear… - Donna snapped mercilessly.
She was lying on her back, her arms stretched alongside her body, looking straight into the ceiling which reflected morning shadows from the street. Why did she say that? She was forced to say that because she felt like it. When she closed her eyes for a moment, she didn’t think about Victor. She was thinking of Donald Cooper: she was kissing him in her mind while he was whispering soft words in her ear. She felt a shiver down her spine, not from a sweet fever, but from the inexplicable fear of the question – what would happen if I fall in love with Donald Cooper? What would really happen?
Victor was suffocating in his torment, in the black emptiness that overwhelmed his soul.
- Sugar, we can still work everything out. Our marriage…
She abruptly interrupted him:
- Don’t mention our marriage to me. Or what’s left of it, if there is anything left.
He threw his arm over her body and leaned over her face. He wanted to touch her Butterfly, but she deftly wriggled out of his embrace, saying:
- Don’t you dare touch my Butterfly! It doesn’t belong to you anymore!
Victor was astonished. Even worse: he was confused and stunned. He just managed to utter:
- Who does it belong to, then?
- I’m tired, Victor. I’ve had a rough week. I have a terrible headache. We’ll talk about it tomorrow or the day after! We’ll talk about it someday!
She reciprocated him in the same manner! Unfailingly and heartlessly!
* * *
Her love towards Victor was wasting away day by day; she even felt as if they slept in separate bedrooms. The job she did at the agency – selling travel arrangements to Oceania – didn’t consume much of her time. She was working at half power, trying to spend the rest of her time in the best possible way: taking care of the kids, doing housework and meeting Donald at Cappuccino. As the time went by, she started hating the monotony of her life at home, its certain crippling effect that became increasingly obvious to her. She started spending less time at home, and more with Donald. Those meetings gave her life a new meaning, a new color.
In those few months they were seeing each other, Donald proved himself as a man worthy of trust. He was always ready to listen to her; he would take her to different venues so as not to arouse even the slightest suspicion that there might be something between them. Although she occasionally lacked understanding of his character, it seemed to her that he was very honest and that he only saw friendship in their regular Monday meetings. However, Donna would feel his persistent, inquiring eyes on herself from time to time, which brought her in an awkward position: she would have to turn her head immediately so that he wouldn’t notice the interest in her eyes.
Adultery was on her mind more often, but she didn’t have the courage to actually realize it. Victor was still too close to her; the only thing preventing her from totally turning to Donald was a certain amount of love she still felt for Victor. In the innermost depths of her soul, she was asking herself whether a new, open discussion with Victor would help her to change something in their relationship.
She suddenly came to a surprising conclusion that she wasn’t ready anymore for something like that – not because she wanted to keep her dignity, but simply because her relationship with Donald, as fluid and platonic as it was, seemed much more beautiful than her relationship with Victor. Whenever she measured the strength of her feelings towards the two of them, she was always faced with double standards: she loved Victor as the father of their two children, and she loved Donald as the man who brought something new into her life, regained her self-confidence and rediscovered her as the woman eager for attention and affection. There was turmoil and chaos on one side, and on the other – charm, refinement and secret longing, some indefinite satisfaction!
But, as much as she thought of her relationship with Donald as simple, innocent and superficial, she felt somewhat guilty: she couldn’t be in the arms of two men at the same time. She believed that Victor’s love for her didn’t fade away completely, but that it only fell into a deep bilge. At the same time, Donald talked to her, told her stories and whispered, sometimes he even flirted with her, but he never revealed his true feelings.
It drove her a bit insane: she didn’t manage the new situation very well, she couldn’t find the right way from that labyrinth. The only thing she knew for sure was that something like that could go on forever. She had to make up her mind quickly – either she would remain reserved, or she would succumb entirely to the new relationship. She had to admit to herself: every time she met Donald, the familiar feelings that every woman carried within herself, waiting to give them to the man she fell in love with unexpectedly, would become stronger. And she was in love with him, there was no doubt about it anymore. She couldn’t pinpoint the power and actuality of that love because she was still terribly vulnerable, floating on a cloud that was still gray and insufficiently clear because of the circumstances surrounding her.
The last Monday in April was Donna’s day off because she had to take Sarah to the doctor. However, after she returned home with Sarah and discussed her health problems with her, she went back to the city and, as usual, met Donald at Cappuccino at five. But, they didn’t have a seat at their usual table; they went outside, and he said:
- They took off anyway, but from Washington D.C.! The Trans World Airlines is still at strike so a lot of flights from New York were cancelled.
Donna instantly knew what Donald was trying to tell her: eighteen of their clients who had opted for a two-week vacation in New Caledonia were finally on their way to their dream adventure that had almost been cancelled because the pilots of Trans World Airlines unexpectedly conspired against them.
- Did Madison contact you? – Donna asked, thinking of Madison Cooper, Donald’s wife, who was the group’s tour guide. Initially, Donna was supposed to go with them, but she refused that offer right away because of the tense situation at home. That’s why Madison Cooper joined the group at the last minute.
- She has already called me from the airport. They’re supposed to reach their destination in a few hours.
The two of them then headed towards the parking lot. Donna
didn’t know why they left Cappuccino, so she asked:
- Are we changing our habits? I though we were going to have our coffee at the usual place…?
- I found a much nicer place – Donald replied. – I think you’ll like it.
They were driving on the road to Atlantic City for only twenty minutes before they arrived in front of a big white mansion, surrounded by a green lawn and pinewood trees. When they entered a paved yard and stopped in front of the entrance, Donna realized that she finally confronted the thing she had been thinking about for months. In a minute or two, she would find herself in Donald’s country house, completely aware of her own position. From now on, things would take on a different course. It was clear to her that they didn’t come to the small town of Hearst to have a coffee, that this short trip was planned, and that Donald had chosen this day because he knew his wife would be thousands of miles away, and Donna’s husband in Buffalo or Philadelphia all day, defending a client. She knew that the moment of decision finally arrived: will she or will she not cheat on her husband? And will this day totally change her life?
While Donald was unlocking the door and letting her inside a huge, round glass-walled salon with a massive oak table and chairs in the middle, Donna was frantically thinking: Have I become his mistress? For God’s sakes, have I really become his mistress?
Mistress… That word was always so hard for her; it reminded her of cheap, attractive women in secluded, secret apartments whose lives were filled with emotional dissatisfaction. No, she decidedly said to herself. No! To her, this simply meant that she was going to sleep with a man whom she loved. She shivered from mere thought of what could happen in this beautiful house in an hour or two if she succumbed to her feelings.
- You have to admit that this is even better than Capuccino – Donald said.
Donna looked around, admiring every corner, and then laid her light jacket on the leather sofa, saying:
- I have to admit, it’s really nice in here. However, I also have to admit that I’m in a quandary.
- I can fix anything – Donald responded in a reassuring voice.
- I’m not really sure you can – Donna retorted. – I’m not exactly pleased you’ve brought me here. Do you know that the others at Paladino have started to talk about us becoming too close? What’s going to happen if that rumour reaches Madison?
- Frankly, I couldn’t care less – Donald said.
She felt pretty stupid. Not because she didn’t know how to answer him, but because she was talking about something that was very irrelevant at this moment. However, she still managed to gather enough courage to say:
- Well, surely you know about that rumour… You can’t hide anything from anyone… People think that I’m your…
- Well… what? – Donald asked, entering the adjacent room to turn on heating. Now the only thing that reached Donna was his strident voice: - Tell me what others think.
She got to the centre of the salon and boldly answered: - People think I’m your mistress.
He returned to the salon, approached her from behind and cupped her waist, saying:
- You’re not my mistress, you’re my wife-to-be. I know you think of my words as foolish and insane, but I don’t want to hide it anymore: I can’t imagine my life without you anymore because I’ve fallen in love. Head over heels! Believe me, Donna, I’ve fallen in love with you.
Then he gave her a soft kiss on the neck and turned her to himself, kissing her face. She didn’t resist, but she also didn’t kiss him back. Heavy iron pincers were clutched around her heart, blocking her breathing and tearing her insides apart like a pack of hungry wolves. Dear God, what’s going on? She finally found the right words for the things she wanted to say:
- Donald, I wouldn’t want anyone to suffer because of us, neither your wife nor my husband. You’ve been a great friend to me all this time, and that’s why I don’t want us to ruin each other’s lives. You’ve made a brave choice of words: I’m not your mistress, I’m your future wife. Oh, God, what are you talking about? Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?
He lifted her chin with his fingertips and looked straight into her eyes. They reflected the blaze of love, and her sweet lips trembled from unhidden desire.
- I love you, Donna! – he simply said while the overwhelming urge was boiling in the depths of his body. – As corny as it sounds, I really love you!
He took her in his powerful embrace, and their lips joined in an indescribably passionate kiss.
* * *
All doubts, fears, anguish, the known and the unknown matrimonial damnations are finally going to be eliminated! That’s what Donna thought in the first few days of her turbulent love affair with Donald Cooper. She felt that all that lay before her were limitless happiness, undisturbed serenity, and love without hesitation.
However, she was unprepared for the things that started happening: the more time she spent with Donald, the louder and more destructing her inner shattering became. She initially rightfully believed that every new meeting with him would further estrange her from Victor, that every Donald’s word would help her overcome the grave crisis she had gotten herself into.
But, as time went by and she became increasingly acquainted with Donald’s character, she got more and more convinced that not only enjoyment and love were sufficient for absolute happiness, but something much, much stronger – the undisputable desire to fundamentally change the existing situation. And for now, that wasn’t possible for more than one reason: she was married, and Donald was too! She had two children, and Donald had three with three different women, which wasn’t exactly something that appealed to her when he had mentioned it for the first time. He never stopped mentioning divorce, but when he was with his wife at Paladino, he was silent, obedient and very loyal. If he did say something, he would make a joke out of it, so most of his stories couldn’t be understood as serious by any remotely reasonable person. In short, their affair was both passionate and shady.
When he was with Donna in his Hearst residence, he would incessantly speak about the many differences between him and his wife Madison. He often talked about her as a woman unworthy of his love. Those stories sometimes turned into coarse bad-mouthing, which also didn’t appeal to Donna: she felt that a man should always keep his wife’s dignity – even if she didn’t deserve it, and regardless of the state of their relationship. Besides, that’s how she behaved when she talked about Victor. She didn’t hide the fact that they didn’t get along, that they were arguing, but she had absolutely no intention to expose their matrimonial bed to others. She always protected Victor’s moral integrity whenever she could, even when she was really angry at him. She never said anything bad about him, although she had a lot of reasons and motives to do the exact opposite.
Donna didn’t hide the fact that she fell in love with Donald because he was totally different from Victor and because he recognized her not only as an object of sexual desire, but also as a woman, an ordinary woman eager to talk, to make jokes and to have a good time. Whenever Donald mentioned divorce, she would respond: “Let’s be patient and keep things slow! Let’s not go too far! Let’s wait and see!” He’d lose his mind and start yelling: “I’ve never waited for anyone, and you’re no exception!” He would later regret those words, uttered in anger, but they were a clear indicator of his true nature. All of that made Donna desperately confused; she didn’t manage the situation very well. She was an advocate of waiting, and he was into swift decisions. She tried to explain some things to him, like the fact that she cannot simply get out of her house and move to his apartment while they’re both married. Such explanations would often be followed by his inevitable question:
- When are you going to file for divorce?
Lately, every time he would ask her that, she would answer: - And who told you I wanted a divorce?
He would sometimes react nervously, sometimes angrily, and sometimes ironically, saying:
- If you think that Victor still s
tands a chance with you, you shouldn’t have started a relationship with me.
She would respond in a joking manner: - If you think that I’ll be yours just like that, without putting up a fight, you’re terribly wrong. You have to capture my heart completely and push out my love for Victor.
- I don’t think you know who I am – Donald retorted. – Nothing can stop me from keeping you. I’m not afraid of the possibility of not having you, you’re the one that should fear the possibility of losing me.
Those words were often accompanied by the aggressive attitude typical for overly confident and ambitious people. He would sometimes gaze at her compassionately, as if he wanted to tell her that their relationship was a done deal.
During one of their stays in Hearst, Donna asked him:
- What would you do if I left you tomorrow?
- What would I do? – he repeated the question with a strenge spark in his eyes. – I wouldn’t kill myself, that’s for sure. But, I don’t think I’d ever forgive you. I love you too much to let you leave me. Besides, no one has left me yet, and there’s a hundred ways for a man to keep the woman he loves by his side.
- Tell me at least five of them. Tell me at least five ways you’d keep me.
Donald thought for a moment, and then replied:
- OK, I’ll tell you. More love! Lots of presents! Exotic vacations! Romantic walks! Blackmail!
She looked at him in astonishment. That last word sounded a bit unusual and harsh to her. She asked him:
The Lover from Fifth Avenue (The Greatest Love Stories) Page 7
