Love at First Hate

by Muriel Garcia

  I stand there, the door still open, and clear my throat. They both look up at me, shocked that they’ve been busted.

  “It’s not what it looks like, baby, I can explain!” John exclaims, pushing blondie to the side, making her fall to the ground in the process as he’s trying to hide his junk.

  “So you’re trying to tell me that she accidentally fell on your dick, pussy first, and was stuck there? That the bouncing she was doing was actually to dislodge herself?” I say with a straight face when all I want to do is laugh at what I just said. I crack myself up sometimes.

  “Would you believe me if I said yes?” I have to give it to him, he has the nerve to try.

  “Do you think I’m stupid? How long has this masquerade been going on for?”

  “It’s the first time. I swear!” he exclaims holding his hands out, and I frown at his already limp dick. Another problem with John, he never could keep it up very long.

  “What the hell? We’ve been together for over a year. I’m sorry. I had no idea he had a boyfriend,” the blonde actually looks ashamed and looks like she feels bad for me.

  “Don’t worry, darling, I don’t have a problem with you. Actually, I don’t have a problem with you either, John. It’s over. I had no idea how to end things with you, but you just made it a hell of a lot easier. Thank you.” I shoot him a sickly sweet smile and take his key off my keyring and throw it at him. I pick up his set of keys from the hook by the door and remove my key.

  “Baby, please. Don’t leave me, it was a mistake.” He walks toward me, holding a cushion over his dick.

  “You were the mistake, John. I let myself slip into this sick joke of a relationship. I thought that everything was okay, that I was just too busy and that once things settled down at work, things would change. We’d get back to our old ways, but no, you still became more controlling. Truth be told, I’ve had enough of you and your obsessive ways. The only thing I want to know is why? Why cheat on me? Why do it for so long?”

  “I don’t know. I love you, I didn’t want to lose you.” He shrugs.

  “Bullshit. You’re not even man enough to come up with some lame excuse as to why you would actually go out of your way and cheat. I hope he’s not as controlling with you as he was with me. You deserve better, darling. Don’t ever contact me again or try to see me.” I slam the door on my way out, feeling much lighter. I hear my name faintly being shouted as I walk down the steps.

  I notice something that’s been missing from my life is back. There’s a spring in my steps that I feel like I had lost, that this relationship was weighing me down and I’ve finally got rid of the extra weight and can now be myself again.

  I always thought that if I found out my partner was cheating on me, that I’d be crushed and unable to get over it. That I would be miserable for months after months, but considering the fact that I was here to break up with him just made it a hell of a lot easier. Thank you, John, for not being able to keep your dick in your pants. You just saved me a hell of a lot of stress and time wasted on arguing with you.

  My phone pings as soon as I get into my car. I’m half expecting it to be a text from John, but to my surprise, it’s not.

  Haven: How did it go?

  Haven is one of my best friends and is now dating one of my ex-lovers, Spencer, who was actually her best friend since they were in diapers. Spencer was a double adaptor, going for men and women. Now he only has eyes and his dick for Haven. You’d think that she’d get jealous by my constant flirting and joking around with her boyfriend, but she is used to it and knows I’m a big flirt with everybody. Hell, she loves it when I flirt and joke around with her. She’s been actually pretty chill about the fact that I fucked her boyfriend and that he fucked me. She’s just awesome that way.

  She knew I was coming here to break up with John and was ready to pick up the pieces and glue them back together with an unlimited supply of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. I quickly call her and connect my phone to the console of the car before I start driving. Safety first!

  “Hey, handsome,” she answers on the first ring.

  “Hey, prettiest girl in my world.”

  “You donut,” Haven scoffs.

  “If I’m a donut, you’re my donut ball, you complete me!” I coo.

  “You’re worse than me when it comes to fluffy comebacks.” She actually sounds upset that I do have better comebacks than her.

  “I’m the master of sickly sweet comebacks, don’t you ever forget it! But it’s you so I can share my throne and teach you how to be as awesome as me.”

  “So cocky!”

  “Yes, I have a big cock. How are you?”

  “Uh, I’m not the one who was going to break up with my boyfriend, how are you?” I can hear Spencer shout in the background ‘and you better not even want to break up with me’. These two crack me up.

  “I’m good actually. Can I pop over?” I ask, already on my way to hers.

  “Yes, of course. You don’t have to ask.”

  “Thanks, darling, I’ll be there in twenty with food.”

  “Okay, sexy. See you in a bit.” I hang up and focus on the road. I feel light, happy and myself again. I hate that it had to come to all of this, but it was necessary. I just wish I had done it sooner, but would it have gone as smoothly? I’m not so sure. Things do happen for a reason, right?

  Stopping at our favorite Chinese takeout, I grab our usual before driving the rest of the way to Spencer’s pad. They live a bit further from me than when Haven used to live on her own, but it’s worth the extra bit of drive. It’s such a beautiful neighborhood.

  Someday I hope I’ll move into this neighborhood with someone special. Maybe one day…

  “Took you long enough!” she shouts standing on the porch, wrapped up in a big fluffy blanket as I get out of the car.

  “I come bearing gifts.” I hold up the bag of Chinese food like in the Lion King.

  “That’s why you’re my favorite!” She fist bumps the air and makes grabbing hands for the bag, but to my surprise she hugs me. “How did it go?”

  “He was fucking a girl when I walked in,” I say man hugging Spencer.

  “He what?” they say in unison.

  “Yeah, gorgeous blonde. She didn’t know he had a boyfriend. It went better than I expected, to be honest.”

  “How can that be better?” Haven asks confused.

  “See, I was wracking my brain on how the hell I could tell him it was over. I didn’t have to anymore when I saw them fucking.” I shrug.

  “You seem oddly okay with it?” Spencer asks, getting the food laid out on the kitchen counter as Bernard jumps on it sniffing around. I grab him and cuddle him to me. He’s Haven’s cat by the way, not some random person jumping on their counters and sniffling their food.

  “I am, weirdly I am. Remember a year ago when you were the one to find Adam fucking that slut? Well, in my head it’s like what happened to you. I’ll meet my prince charming and all that.” I wave my hand in the air before putting Bernard to the ground and washing my hands. I’m starving now that it’s done and over with. I grab the spring roll container and take one out before taking a seductive bite out of it as I look at Spencer, waggling my eyebrows.

  “Mine! Get yourself another prince charming. Besides, you do realize that you’ll have to endure a neighbor who likes to fuck loudly, like Valentine, before you get with said prince charming?”

  “You sound like one of those seagulls in Finding Nemo. Sadly, I know. Does my rude neighbor count?” I sit at the kitchen island and pet Bernard who managed to escape our attention for a minute and is back at it.

  “We watched it last night.” She grins widely.

  “Why doesn’t that surprises me?” I chuckle.

  “What do you mean by your rude neighbor?” Spencer asks, his curiosity piqued.

  “Every other night, around three he starts screaming. I don’t know what’s up with him, but it’s freaky. And then there’s the odd occasion when his girlfriend
is there. She’s very vocal, him not so much.”

  “Think his house is haunted? I mean three is the witching hour,” Haven says in a spooky voice.

  “Who knows? I just wish I could sleep. It’s getting exhausting.” I frown and start eating my food.

  “Next time go knock on his door.”

  “And say what? What kind of kink are you into to yell like this in the middle of the night?” I snort.

  “I’m sure that’d go down well.” Haven snickers.

  “Who knows, maybe I could join?” We all laugh and eat the feast laid out in front of us when I notice something. I drop my chopsticks and shout at them both. “When did you two get engaged?”

  “Tonight.” Spencer chuckles.

  “I’m totally crashing your evening. Sorry, you two.” I feel bad now that they sacrificed celebrating to have me over.

  “You’re not and don’t be sorry. We love having you around.” Haven hugs me.

  “I’m so happy for you both. You deserve to be happy.” I hug her, and Spencer joins in.

  “You’ll meet your Spencer one day,” Haven whispers in my ear. I squeeze her and smile, hoping she’s right. “After all, my fairy tale started on a Monday. Today is Monday.”

  “I love you both.” I squeeze them, secretly hoping that my fairy tale will start tonight. I’m not one to believe in that kind of shit, but when you see how things went for these two, you can’t help but have it play in the back of your mind and hope for something as magical as their story.

  Our night ended up with all three of us getting slightly drunk, and by slightly I mean close to being shit faced. We had to celebrate their engagement. Tomorrow morning’s meeting is going to be rough, but it was well worth it. I’m so happy for them. They were made for each other, and it took them so long to finally realize they were in love with each other. At least they finally got to that point, but not without some help from yours truly. They are stronger than ever, and I know nothing could rock their world and break them up. And if someone so much as tries, they’ll have to go through me first.

  Besides that little blip on the radar, aka John being a massive dickhead with a nipple dick, my life has been pretty perfect. I have a loving family, amazing friends, and a job I love. What more could a man ask for? Besides passion, love, and companionship. Things I’m desperately missing in my life right now. I know it’s only been a couple of days since it’s been over with John, but I’ve been feeling that way for a while now. The passion was long gone between John and me.

  I’m at a point in my life where I need more. I want someone who wants passion, excitement, complicity. I want someone who wants to make memories and enjoy life together. Not someone who is tracking my every move and making up ridiculous excuses to pick fights.

  He’s probably not going to let go that easily, but for now, I have some peace. Breaking up with John was the best thing I could do. I should have done it long ago, but what’s done is done, and things can only look up from now on.

  There are two wolves battling inside my head right now.

  The good versus the evil.

  The good never stood a chance.

  It’s been years since I’ve stopped fighting my inner demons.

  We’re on the same side now.

  Las Vegas.

  Such a crazy place. No matter where you go, no matter what time of the day or night, people are out drinking, gambling, partying and fuck knows what else. I don’t do gambling or partying, only drinking, like right now on the flight back home to Denver, Colorado. I probably shouldn’t drink as I have to drive home, but I’m not ready to face the reality of my life just yet. This break was exactly what I needed.

  The convention circuit as a tattoo artist is something that you have to go through. It’s both an enriching experience and the best way to get your name out there and make yourself known. The only issue is I don’t do well at interacting with other people.

  When I’m at the shop, it’s easy to block them out. The noise of the tattoo gun going does the job just well. Usually, the clients just chat away, which makes it easier for me, and our shop manager often comes to see how we’re doing so she’s the one really talking to the clients.

  At a convention, you have to talk to the potential clients about your work and your experience, your style of tattooing. You have to sell yourself and your work to book more tattoos. All of the things I hate doing. I’d rather let my art speak for itself than having to defend or justify it.

  Thankfully, Ellie, my best friend and coworker, was there to keep me grounded. I think I’d have punched a few people and probably would have been locked up had she not been there. She’s the only true friend that I have and the only person I’ve let in my life. She knows my deepest secrets, except one. Nobody knows, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can, even if it means making myself unhappy.

  This week was refreshing in the way that I didn’t have to deal with my family or girlfriend. I don’t get along with my family. I never have and probably never will. It’s a shocker that they haven’t disowned me for shaming the family name. See, my parents sent me to military camp and then to join the Army. I was sent to Afghanistan where I learned things the hard way.

  I saw people die daily. I fought for my life. Bombs were exploding left, right, and center and killed entire squads. If it’s not you dying, it’s the guy next to you. It put things into perspective for me. Don’t get me wrong, I was honored to serve my country, but it’s not the path I’d have picked for myself had I had a say in it. To this day, I’m still paying for the irreversible consequences.

  I come from a very strict military background. It goes back to my great-great-grandfather. All the firstborn men in the family since him have been in the military, and it wasn’t any different for me. I was discharged fifteen years ago for medical reasons, and I didn’t choose to keep working in a military environment; another strike against me for my family. I could have accepted a desk job, but it’s not me. It never was me. I’m not good when it comes to doing things that require thinking and not messing up, things that could put a lot of people in danger.

  I’m more of an artistic person. I’ve always been into drawing, music, photography. Anything that doesn’t require you to think about what you’re doing. Anything that lets your mind be free and express itself the way it wants to.

  That’s why I chose to become a tattoo artist after I was discharged from the military. My parents still haven’t accepted it. They think it’s just a phase, that I’m rebelling because they sent me to military camp when I was sixteen. I didn’t believe them when they first told me they were sending me there. I don’t know who my father talked to, but it was very efficient.

  Even with me being thirty-five, my parents still don’t accept me for me or what I’m choosing to do with my life. To be honest, I don’t think they ever will.

  They go as far as telling me who I can and cannot date. Lame, I know. I shouldn’t let it happen, but I’ve learned that it’s easier to go their way instead of against them. They are doing it to my brother, Frank, and Caroline, my older sister too. At least my younger sister, Madeline is safe at the moment.

  I’m not one to go after relationships or want one. I don’t want kids. I just want to live my life, be myself and be content that way. I don’t want anyone to judge me for my choices, but apparently, they don’t see things that way. They are trying to force this relationship with Lindsey on me, and this masquerade has been going on for a year.

  They introduced me to her a year ago. She’s the daughter of one of my father’s military friends. She’s a nice girl: long brown hair, blue eyes, perky tits and a nice ass, but man she has an annoying voice and the personality that goes with it. She sounds like one of those stupid dumb bimbos.

  Honestly, I don’t know why I let myself get roped into going on a blind date with her, but I did, and she hasn’t left me since. I mean it’s easy sex. I don’t have to try and seduce her to get her into my bed, so that’s a plus. The
thing that bothers me the most is that she wants kids and to get married. She knows I don’t want any of those things, but she says I’ll change my mind down the line and that once we have a baby I’ll be over the moon.

  There’s one thing she doesn’t know about me. I got a vasectomy a couple of years ago when one girl I was fucking on the regular ended up pregnant. I didn’t want it to happen again, so I got the snip. Sadly, for the girl, she had a miscarriage and selfishly, that means I didn’t have to still be in touch with her or take care of a kid I didn’t want in the first place. Heartless? No. I wouldn’t subject a kid to the fucked up mess that is my life.

  Besides, have you seen the world we live in today? Why would I want to bring a child into a world where people shoot at each other for no reason? Blaming it on religion or who people decide to love and choose to spend their lives with.

  I’m more than happy with the idea of spending my life alone with the occasional hookup. I’m not into the romance or the intimacy a relationship entails. I like my independence and my peace and quiet.

  “Earth to Nate.” Ellie elbows me as I was staring out the window of the plane sipping on a beer.

  “What?” I turn to her.

  “You haven’t spoken a word since we got on the place. What’s up?”

  “Can you tell I’m so super-duper excited to get home.” I fake being excited.

  “Oh yeah, I can totally tell.” She chuckles. “Let me guess, Lindsey called you, and she’s the super-duper excited one?”

  “You got that one right.” I sigh rubbing my face.

  “Dump the whiney bitch already!” Ellie groans.

  “I don’t know what’s worse. Handling her whiney ass on a daily basis or my father’s disapproval if I as much as think of dumping her.”