After the End

by Brenda Barrett

  "And people say that there is no God." Greg hunched down beside her.

  "You know, I was thinking the same thing." Colleen looked at him and grinned. "What's up?"

  "Nothing much." Greg sat in the sand. "Same old thing. I am not particularly overjoyed to be back, you know."

  Colleen looked at him, shocked. "You are not?"

  "Nah," Greg shrugged. "When we were first captured I really wanted to get back because I thought I had two children and a wife who needed me, but I have no family now."

  "Sorry about that, Greg."

  "Maybe it's for the best. I mean, Maureen looks really good. And the truth is, if I were to be honest, she has always been way too ambitious for me. If I didn't disappear, we probably wouldn't even be together now. She would get tired of me. She never really liked our way of life here.

  "You know, she used to be the one who did all the pushing. She is the one who insisted that I go into partnership with Isaiah, she is the one who cared if I wore matching socks and all of that…" He laughed. "My disappearance must have been a relief for her. See, she got her Mr. Rich and Right with what's his name?"

  "Oh no, Greg," Colleen said sympathetically, "Maureen loved you and her pushing was for your own good."

  "Yeah," Greg nodded, "I believe so. She loved me in high school and maybe it would have worked out, who knows?"

  The sun sank slowly into the horizon, bathing them in a lovely golden light.

  "I am going on the farm work program," Greg said. "Isaiah is the one cut out for the fishing lifestyle, not me. He loves it. He loves this place. Frankly, if I never see another fish again, I would be fine. To cement my commitment to not liking fish, I think I am going vegetarian."

  Colleen shifted uncomfortably in the boat and turned to look at Greg. "Do you think I am a bad person for getting married to somebody else and not staying loyal to Isaiah?"

  "You did what you had to do." Greg looked around to see if anybody was near them. "And he did what he had to do when you weren't around either. It's called survival."

  "What do you mean?" Colleen asked.

  "Nothing." Greg shrugged. "Well, it's just that it's not as if Isaiah was celibate, if you know what I mean."

  Colleen sat up abruptly and looked at Greg, a cold feeling stealing over her. "He wasn't?"

  "No. Well, at first he was. He harped on about you night and day and then about last year when they shipped the girls over…that’s what the prisoner guys did to make us happy."

  He looked at Colleen apologetically. "I must admit I was the happiest of them all. Isaiah hated that, but when he started taking interest in a particular one—her name was Mandy…I doubt if that was her real name—I actually thought he had given up the hope of us escaping."

  "What does interest mean?" Colleen asked, her throat suddenly dry.

  "Ah, you know." Greg got up uncomfortably. "I don't have to spell it out. I just wanted you to know that I get why you moved on too. None of us is a saint, all right? We have needs, so stop beating up yourself for finding another guy in the interim. He's here now and alive. You are still around and love him. You two have got plenty of years ahead of you and plenty of stories to tell."

  He looked at her sheepishly, as if he realized that he had said too much. "I am going for a drink."

  "Yes, okay." Colleen nodded absently.

  Colleen watched as nightfall gathered. She heard as the oldies music blared down the beach. She waited for the anger, jealousy, disappointment to erupt in her but it didn't. She had been more passionate about Lia's lies about her and Enrique than she was about Isaiah sleeping with some whore named Mandy.

  *****

  "There you are!" Isaiah found her an hour later. "Why aren't you in the thick of things with me?" he asked, getting in the boat with her.

  Colleen smiled. "I saw you were in your element with your fishermen friends. For now, you are the local hero. Didn't want to rob you of your two minutes of fame."

  Isaiah chuckled. "I had to have a drink with five of them. One for every year I was missing." He flung his hand across her shoulder and pulled her closer, kissing her on her forehead.

  His breath smelled like beer and Colleen winced. He smelled like cigarette smoke and fish, bringing back the nausea that she thought had disappeared.

  When the opening notes of Dennis Brown's song, How Could I Leave, Isaiah jumped up in the boat, pulling her with him, "Now Colleen, this is our song."

  Colleen chuckled. "You are tipsy."

  He started singing off key, "How could I live? How could I possibly go on, If you should say goodbye?"

  He pulled her closer. "Remember how we danced to this at our reception?"

  "Yes," Colleen said, forcing herself not to hold herself from him stiffly. Standing up suddenly had caused her to feel dizzy and she clutched his hand, struggling to inhale and steady herself at the same time.

  He sang the chorus loudly, “Promise you won't leave me, Promise you won't hurt me, Promise you won't ever make me blue...”

  He pulled Colleen closer and kissed her, a hard, demanding kiss, forcing her lips open, almost making her gag from the force. He ran his hands up and down her body and then broke the kiss, burying his face in her scented hair as he kissed her soft, smooth skin.

  Colleen squirmed under his touch; her body had forgotten how to respond to Isaiah. Instead she was feeling a slight revulsion.

  "Isaiah, stop!" She tried to push him away.

  "Do not speak, Colleen, only feel. Feel the electricity that exists between us, feel what our bodies are trying to tell us."

  "But, Isaiah——" She fought to bring him back to sanity. She didn't want this. He was breathing harshly and she was feeling as if she would faint at any moment.

  "Hey you two, get a bed," someone said close to them.

  Isaiah pulled away from Colleen and whispered, "Let us do that."

  "No," Colleen said weakly. "I am not feeling very well. I think I should go home."

  "To him…" Isaiah swore fluently. "Colleen, I thought we had turned a corner tonight."

  Her head was pounding and her body was breaking out in a sweat.

  "No," Colleen said, swaying.

  "You really aren’t well?" Isaiah asked, concerned.

  "Told you," Colleen muttered, "some water would be nice." She sat down gingerly at the edge of the boat and took in some deep gulps of air.

  When Isaiah got back with a bottle of spring water she sipped it slowly.

  "Thanks," she said after a while. She put the bottle to her head, feeling its coolness as it soothed her throbbing head.

  Isaiah stood looking at her helplessly.

  "Hey Isaiah," someone called to him from the restaurant. "Come for a picture."

  "One sec," Isaiah called out. "Are you okay now?" He turned to Colleen.

  "Almost as good as new," Colleen said, struggling to put a bright smile on her face. "Listen, I am going to go home, okay?"

  "I'll walk with you," Isaiah said. "I am just going to take some pictures with those guys; don't move."

  Colleen nodded but got up as soon as he walked off. She didn't want Isaiah around; she wanted fresh air. She walked toward the road leading through the community, walked away from the loud throbbing music, and then called Enrique.

  He answered on the first ring.

  "Can you come get me?" she asked without preamble. She told him her directions and then hung up the phone.

  When Enrique drove up, Colleen dragged the car door open and sat in the passenger seat limply.

  "You got here fast," Colleen said weakly.

  "Just doing my Superman thing," Enrique said without humor. "Tough night?"

  "Yes." Colleen squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't feel as if she fit in anymore; she didn't respond to Isaiah's touch anymore. She wasn't sure of herself anymore. How could just a few months with Enrique feel more potent than what she had had with Isaiah for years? Why did she have a sneaking suspicion that she had outgrown Isaiah?

  Chapter F
ifteen

  Enrique was having one of those mornings. Lia had woken him up with an urgent SOS. One of his clients no longer wanted to sell her island, and already several serious offers had been made on the property.

  "I am telling you, she is cuckoo," Lia said. "Oh and there is another fire to put out; the royal will not deal with Jorge."

  Enrique pulled on his tracksuit and glanced at Colleen. She was fast asleep. She was even making snuffling sounds. Only her nose and tendrils of curly hair could be seen at the top of the sheet. He had wanted to talk to her this morning when she just woke up and was vulnerable and couldn't put up barriers.

  He had a glimmer of hope in the situation. She had called him last night to come and pick her up from Isaiah's party. That was something. He hoped that her calling him was significant. He hoped that it meant that she had made up her mind.

  He headed to the study and sat around the desk. "Can I address any of these problems through Skype?"

  "Mrs. Browne does not know what Skype is," Lia said. "She is ancient, and prince Nickolai is your regular run of the mill billionaire royalty who wants personal attention from the boss. That’s you, boss."

  "Hmmm," Enrique drummed his fingers on the desk. "I need two more days here."

  "You mean your... er... wife has not made up her mind about who she will choose yet, you or the other dude?"

  Enrique sighed. "Lia, I hate that you know my business."

  Lia laughed softly. "I am just wondering what's taking her so long; obviously you are the better man."

  "Thank you for that completely unbiased boost to my ego," Enrique got up and looked through the window. "I'll call you later, after my morning run."

  Lia hung up and Enrique palmed the phone. He had to leave Whitehouse for a while. He leaned his head on the wall. He didn't want to but he had a business to run and commitments to fulfill.

  If he left he would leave the field wide open for Colleen to choose Isaiah. His presence was important here. He didn't want to leave and then get a Dear John speech from Colleen when he got back. He didn't want to lose her. He didn't even want to think about it.

  He supposed that he could survive it if she chose Isaiah; life would be bleak for a while. He would feel gutted for a long time and then he'd move on. Like you moved on when you had a secret crush on her in high school, a little voice in his head mocked him. You had a picture of her on your laptop for years, fawning over her, and you hadn't even made love to her yet. Now you know how it feels. Now you know her.

  He ran down the beach, trying to outrun the voice. He finally stopped, panting and heaving, and looked around, realizing that he had run much farther than he normally did. He was still on Lopez property but the piece that was closer to the town. From here he could easily see the fishermen by the sea. Some of them were coming in and some were heading out. He walked closer to the action and watched as they laughed and joked with each other.

  One guy in particular was standing and watching the action, his hands in his pockets, a frown on his face. When the guy looked in Enrique's direction. Enrique realized that it was Isaiah.

  He contemplated going over and saying hello. After all, he knew Isaiah from high school, and they shared the same wife. The thought was slightly sickening, but it was true.

  As a matter of fact, he was the other man, the second husband. As his mother had pointed out last night, technically his marriage contract with Colleen was void.

  Isaiah was the one who came over to him as they eyed each other in uncertainty.

  "Lopez," Isaiah said, inclining his head in greeting.

  Enrique nodded back formally. "Hello Isaiah."

  "Fancy us meeting here," Isaiah said. "Maybe this is a good coincidence. I have wanted to talk to you."

  "Is that so?" Enrique asked, facing Isaiah. They were the same height. Isaiah was a little bulkier than he had been. Aside from that he still looked the same.

  "Yes, I wanted to tell you that I love Colleen." Isaiah gazed at him unwaveringly. "I really do. I never stopped."

  "So do I." Enrique added, "I never stopped either."

  "She loves me," Isaiah said, not a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "She has kept her stuff at the house. All her clothes are there beside my clothes, still in the closet. You know she shined my shoes all the time and left them at the doorway as if she was expecting me to come home, and she kept everything for me.

  "She didn't want to let me go when she thought I was dead. And now here I am, very much alive. Yesterday I told her to just come home."

  Enrique frowned. "So why is it that she called me to come get her from your party last night?"

  Isaiah sighed. "I have no idea; we were making love and then I was called away to take a picture and after that she disappeared."

  Enrique didn't move for a full thirty seconds. Isaiah's words nailed him to the sand. We were making love. Stark, hurtful words.

  He finally found his voice. "No, Colleen wouldn't do that and then return to our home. She would have given me her Dear John speech and littered that with a few tears and then with her conscience clear, she would move on. I know her that well."

  "Maybe you don't know her as well as you think," Isaiah smirked. "She was so hot for me. She begged me not to leave her side last night."

  Enrique inhaled noisily. Last night Colleen had told him that she wasn't well. She had brushed her teeth, crawled into bed and was out before he could say good night.

  Isaiah was still speaking, intruding on his inner thoughts.

  "I don't know why she keeps returning to your place."

  Enrique felt a cold, hard disappointment lodge in his chest.

  "Maybe she just wants a settlement or something," Isaiah continued. "After all, you are rich."

  "Colleen does not want my money," Enrique said, looking into Isaiah's smug face.

  "Maybe she doesn’t," Isaiah shrugged. "It was just a theory, but I can feel her obligation to you and I think it is making her sick."

  "Ask her to leave," Isaiah urged, "make it easier on her. She really wants you to do that; she admitted as much yesterday. She wants to be with me, her rightful husband. She misses me so badly she cried like a baby when she saw me two days ago. I had to calm her down. She didn't want to leave my side then but being the gallant sort of person I am, I urged her to give you some notice that she's leaving you."

  "No," Enrique groaned under his breath but Isaiah's words had a ring of truth to them.

  "Just allow my wife to come home." Isaiah gave Enrique one last earnest look and then headed back to the boats and the spot where he was standing.

  Enrique was left with a metallic taste in his mouth, like the taste of disappointment, anger and a bellowing rage so strong he was too weak to run with all of those feelings weighing him down.

  *****

  He reached home later than he had bargained for. The sun was already high in the sky, creating shadows on the beach. Colleen was on the veranda looking out. She was in one of her filmy white negligees and she clutched a cup of tea in her hand. The closer he came to her the more he appreciated how innocent she looked, how beautiful she looked. This morning she almost appeared fragile.

  "Hey," Colleen said, greeting him when he came to the veranda.

  "Hey," his voice was husky and he cleared his throat.

  "You had a long run." She smiled at him shyly.

  "I did." He stopped and just stared at her, drinking her in.

  "I was thinking," she said looking into her cup, "after last night that I..."

  "Stop." Enrique slumped on a column and tried to avoid the fact that he could see her legs clearly through the silky material or her breasts imprinted through the fabric.

  "I get it," he sighed. "I don't want to hear the Dear John speech."

  "But..." Colleen protested, looking at him wide eyed, "I was going to..."

  Enrique felt a crushing weight on his chest but this had to be said; he had to let her go. Isaiah said that this decision that she had to make was making
her sick. Well, he could be the bigger man in this situation and let her go.

  "You are free to go back to Isaiah," Enrique said after a long, drawn-out sigh. "I am not standing in your way. I give up."

  "Enrique," Colleen said in a stricken whisper, "I was going to..."

  Enrique walked toward her and grabbed her to him, kissing her hard and passionately. She melted into him as she always did and as usual, his arousal was quick. He almost pushed her away from him.

  "We still have loads of chemistry together," he said raggedly. "Is that why you are still here, the chemistry?"

  He sighed. "I know you still love him. I think you should just go quickly and quietly. I can't stand this, not for a moment longer."

  "Can I borrow the car?" Colleen asked, her lips trembling.

  "Sure, why not?" Enrique said, heading to the bathroom. "Have a nice life."

  He didn't look back at her soft kissable lips or her vulnerable expression. He couldn't do it.

  He slammed the bathroom door hard and sank down beside it, pushing his hand in his mouth. This is what pain felt like.

  “It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” really was utter rubbish. The worst saying ever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Colleen took her small traveling bag, packed it with a few things and headed to the car. Enrique had not come out of the shower and it was nearly forty-five minutes since he booted her out of his life unceremoniously and without warning, just when she was going to tell him that she loved him too and that she intended to stay with him. She had wanted them to work out together the issue of her dissolving her marriage to Isaiah, just like Maureen did with Tucker. They had acted together, because Tucker loved Maureen. Enrique didn't love her. He had gone on his morning run and then made a decision to kick her out of his life, like yesterday’s garbage.

  He had blindsided her with his declaration that he gave up. Tears sprang to her eyes and she tried to blink them away, but they persisted until she couldn't see a thing through the windshield.