Deadly Satisfaction

by Trice Hickman

  Donetta’s heart started racing. Phillip didn’t strike her as the type of man who would become violent, but life had taught her that anyone was capable of anything, especially once their emotions started running high, as Phillip’s were now. She wanted to ask him to calm down, and to remind him that she would defend herself if she had to. But she was afraid to open her mouth, and her good common sense told her that she should keep it shut for now. She watched him as he stood as still as a statue and looked into the fireplace, as if he was transfixed. She desperately wanted him to say something. After what felt like an hour, he finally spoke.

  “You tricked me,” he said. “You knew that if you told me the truth from the jump that I wouldn’t have anything to do with you, so you lied and manipulated me.”

  “That’s not true. I never lied to you about who I am, not once. I’m sitting here being honest with you.”

  “Don’t split hairs, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

  “I planned to tell you, and the only reason why I didn’t before now is because I didn’t want to do it in person. But now that we’re snowed in, I had no choice. And besides, your mother knows me.”

  Phillip glared at her and shook his head.

  “My best friend and business partner, Geneva, does your mother’s hair. Your mother comes into the salon every week like clockwork. I just saw her yesterday.”

  Phillip crossed his arms over his chest. “This is unbelievable. I feel like I’m in the middle of a freakin’ nightmare.”

  “I’m sorry that you think being with me is a nightmare,” Donetta said, her voice full of hurt.

  “Do you always go around doing shit like this? Tricking men into sleeping with you and then dropping the bomb on them?”

  Donetta closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’ve been beaten and raped, and it happened because I told them in person. There’s a rule of safety in the community that you should never tell someone in person because it can cost you your life. I’d planned to tell you over the phone after our date last night. But then you came over here and—”

  “You could’ve told me on the phone when I invited you to the hotel, before it ever got this far.”

  “I wanted you to get to know me for who I am, and not some misinformed stereotype.”

  Phillip shook his head. “I can’t believe I actually jumped in my car and raced over here.”

  “I’m still the same person you were laughing with last night and today. I’m the same person you shared your likes and dislikes with, and I’m still opinionated, strong-willed, and a deeply caring woman,” Donetta said in a pleading tone. “I haven’t changed one bit, Phillip. I am who I am, through and through.”

  “This is crazy. It’s so fucked up I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You can start by trying to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “Where you’re coming from? How about how I feel? Did it ever occur to you that the entire way you went about this was wrong?” He paused. “Oh wait, you knew you were wrong, and that’s why you kept the truth from me.”

  “You act like I lured you over here and seduced you. You’re the one who pursued me.”

  “Only because I thought you were a woman.”

  “I am a woman, damn it! And I’ve been a woman all my life. I’ve had to walk on eggshells since I was a child, trying to protect myself from other people’s anger, rage, and hatred toward me all because of who I am. My father left our family when I was five years old because he hated me, and my mother abandoned me when I was in middle school for the same reason. I came home from school one afternoon and all her things were gone, except for a raggedy note that basically said she didn’t want me in her life.

  “I caught hell growing up and I had to fight and defend myself almost daily. By the time I graduated from high school I’d had both my arms broken and a total of forty stitches in different places on my body. I even contemplated suicide a few times because I felt so miserable. My grandmother, who raised me, was the only person, besides my best friend, Geneva, who has ever loved me unconditionally.” Just then Donetta’s cell phone rang loud with Geneva’s ringtone. She knew that her friend was worried about her, and as irony would have it, she was probably calling to see if she’d had a chance to talk to Phillip. Donetta knew she’d have to call Geneva back at another time, with what she now knew was going to be bad news, so she continued on with what she was saying.

  “Once my grandmother died, I knew I couldn’t continue to live in fear or shame. I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me, I’m telling you because it’s who I am. I’ve worked too damn hard and fought too many battles to go back to the sad life I used to live.

  “I feel good about myself, and I’m not ashamed of who I am. I’m a good person, I’m kind, I’m generous, I’m smart, I’m hardworking, I’m loving, and I’m one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet. I’m not bragging on myself, I’m just telling you what’s true. I think in the short amount of time that we’ve been together, you’ve been able to see those qualities.” Donetta swallowed hard as tears began to form in her eyes. “I always trust my heart and my gut because they’ve never led me wrong. And that’s why as crazy as it might sound, my heart and my gut are telling me that you’re the one. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I love you, Phillip.”

  Phillip stared at her, but she couldn’t read the expression on his face. Finally, he spoke.

  “Where is your guest room?”

  She answered him softly. “Down the hall, to your right.”

  Without saying a word, Phillip turned, walked down the hall, and slammed the door shut behind him. A minute later the lights flickered and the electricity went out. The house fell into blackness as Donetta sat on the couch and cried in the dark.

  A few hours later, Donetta was curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace. She’d pulled her heavy comforter and sheets off her bed and had made a makeshift sleeping bag that she was nestled inside. She was thankful for her wood-burning fireplace. When she’d moved into her house a few years ago, she’d hired a contractor to customize her home to the specifications she liked. When she’d told him that she wanted a traditional fireplace over gas logs, he’d looked at her as if she’d told him she wanted to jump out of a moving car. And now, as the orange and red flames kept her nice and toasty without the need for electricity, she wondered if that contractor was freezing in his home without the use of his precious gas logs. She was pulled away from her thoughts when she heard Phillip cough again.

  He’d been coughing for the last half hour, and it was getting worse by the minute. She knew he’d probably caught a cold from having walked two miles in the snow, and it didn’t help that he was sleeping in a room at the back of the house that Donetta knew had to be freezing. This certainly wasn’t how she’d envisioned her evening was going to be. She’d started out with high hopes, and as she and Phillip had dined on the delicious meal she’d made, she’d been happy with the excitement of being snowed in with him. But now she was anything but happy, and her spirits hadn’t been this low since her grandmother had passed away.

  Donetta wanted to cry every time she thought about the way Phillip had looked at her with disdain after she’d opened up to him. The fact that he’d rather freeze in the guest room than be near her where it was warm, all because he didn’t want to be in the same room with her, made her feel even worse. But she knew she couldn’t continue to cry or give in to feelings of guilt or pity for herself. It would be hard, but she knew she’d survive this, and in years to come when she looked back on this moment, she’d be able to say that it served to make her stronger.

  Ten minutes later, Phillip’s cough was progressing, to the point that he sounded as if he was in distress. Donetta knew she had to do something. “He may not want to see me,” she mumbled as she unbundled herself from the comforter, “but this is my house, and I’m going into that room whether he wants me to or not.” She walked back to the guest room
and knocked on the door. She waited, but there was no response, only coughing. She knocked again and was met with the same silence. “This is ridiculous,” she said with frustration. Donetta pushed the door open and walked in. “Get up, you need to come to the living room where it’s warm.”

  “I’m fine where I am,” Phillip said through two loud coughs. He sounded weak, and his voice was stuffy with congestion.

  Donetta shook her head. “It’s so cold back here I can see my breath. You’ve caught a cold, Phillip, and you don’t need to be back here in this room. It’s freezing.”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  Even though it was dark, Donetta could clearly see him through the light that was streaming in from the window. He looked tired, and it was obvious that he wasn’t fine. “You sound like you’re gonna cough up a lung.”

  “It’s nothing a little rest won’t cure, so get out of here and leave me alone.”

  Donetta was tired of trying to persuade him. She walked over to the bed and quickly snatched the covers away from his body.

  Phillip sat up and coughed as if someone had kicked him in his throat. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “I should be asking your stupid ass the same thing,” she said matter-of-factly, with her hand on her hip. She could see that she’d gotten his attention. “You’re back here about to catch pneumonia when you should be in the living room where it’s warm, right in front of the fire.” He was quiet, and she could tell that as stubborn as he was trying to be, he knew she was right. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” she said. “You can either walk out to the living room on your own, or I can drag you down the hall. I might be dainty, but I’m strong.”

  Slowly, Phillip rose from the bed and shuffled down the hallway. Donetta opened her makeshift sleeping bag. “Get in.” She could tell that Phillip felt horrible because he didn’t put up any resistance. He buried himself under the heavy comforter and pulled it up to his neck.

  Donetta walked into the kitchen and rifled through her cabinets. She came back carrying several bottles, along with a glass of orange juice and a thermometer. She sat down beside Phillip and crossed her legs to make herself comfortable. “Open your mouth.” She slid the digital thermometer under his tongue, which took no time to beep, letting her know that he had a temperature and it was high. She removed it from his mouth. “Your temp is a hundred and three,” she said with concern in her voice. She knew this was the result of his two-mile walk to reach her. Donetta’s heart ached when she thought about the desire that had fueled Phillip’s determination to see her, and the fact that it was now gone, only to be replaced by anger and disdain for her. But she pushed her feelings aside because right now he was sick, and he needed her.

  “Here, take a sip of this,” Donetta said as she handed him the glass of orange juice. Next, she gave him a capful on NyQuil Severe Cold medicine, followed by a cherry-flavored Hall’s cough drop. She returned to the kitchen when she heard her teakettle whistling on the stove. A few minutes later she held a cup to his mouth that was filled with chamomile tea and mixed with natural brown sugar, organic honey, a freshly squeezed lemon, and a strong dose of alcohol.

  “The cough drop and the honey will help soothe your cough,” she said. “The NyQuil will help relieve your cold symptoms, the chamomile will relax your body so you can go to sleep, and the booze will do the rest.”

  After Phillip finished drinking the tea, Donetta handed him another cough drop, which he took willingly. She walked down the hall to her large linen closet and pulled out an old patchwork quilt and several sheets. She returned to the living room, placed them on the floor, and then walked over to her stash of firewood. She put a few more logs on top of the ones that were already burning, which would ensure that the room would be warm throughout the night. She made another makeshift sleeping bag on the floor, a few feet away from where Phillip was lying, but close enough to the fire to stay warm while keeping an eye on him in case he awoke and needed anything.

  Donetta looked over at Phillip, who had stopped coughing and appeared to be fast asleep. Even in sickness, and despite the harsh way he’d treated her and the things he’d said, she still thought he was beautiful, and she still loved him.

  As she continued to stare at him, bundled up beneath her comforter, she couldn’t help but feel happy and sad at the same time. She was sad to have lost Phillip before she’d had the chance to ever really have him, and she was happy because she’d found love, even if it had been only for a brief moment. Donetta knew it was something a lot of people would never experience, but she had, and for that blessing she was grateful.

  “Good night, Phillip. I love you,” she whispered. After a few minutes she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 30

  PHILLIP

  The sun was on the verge of making its appearance, as everything remained quiet and still in the predawn morning. The snow had stopped falling and had left a beautiful scene fit for a postcard. Phillip had been awake for the last hour, thinking, contemplating, and trying to make sense of the situation he was in. His head was pounding, and he didn’t know if it was from the fever that had gripped his body, or if it was because of everything that had taken place last night.

  He looked over at Donetta, who was lying a few feet away from him, bundled beneath an intricate patchwork quilt. She was sleeping on her side, facing him, and she looked as if she was awake with her eyes closed. As much as he struggled with the thoughts that were running through his head, he had to admit that Donetta was breathtakingly beautiful—and that truth disturbed him and left him feeling confused.

  Phillip didn’t want to be attracted to her. He wanted to despise her for what she’d done to him. And more than anything, he wanted to think of “her” as “him,” so it would make his feelings easier to define. But the truth was that when he looked at Donetta, all he saw was a beautiful, vulnerable woman. He let out a low, deep breath as he replayed last night’s conversation in his mind.

  After he’d stomped away and shut himself off in Donetta’s guest room, he’d lain for hours in the quiet darkness, alone with his thoughts. He’d felt deceived because, although Donetta hadn’t told a lie in the traditional sense, he’d felt her omission of who she was was tantamount to straight-up deception. After thoroughly processing what she’d said about her reasons for not telling him face-to-face, he understood the very real physical threat of violence and possible death that she’d cited. But he also felt she should have told him about being trans before they’d slept together, which had now brought about a set of issues he’d never even thought about before.

  Phillip was wrestling with the internal struggle about how he—a heterosexual, alpha male—could still be attracted to Donetta after finding out she’d been born male. He felt that his mind and heart had conspired to play a cruel game, because even though he knew Donetta’s background, all he could see when he looked at her was a beautiful woman. She smelled sweet like a woman. Her body was soft and curvaceous in all the right places like a woman. She had a sexy walk and feminine flair like a woman. When they’d made love, she’d felt like a woman. And that last part was one of the hardest realities for him to come to grips with.

  Phillip wanted to laugh at the irony that out of all the women he’d been with in his life, the one whom he found the most interesting, sexy, desirable, and best in bed, had been born just like him. The thought was something he didn’t know how to assign feelings to.

  Phillip looked at the fire that was now burning low. He remembered that Donetta had stacked it full of wood so it would burn through the rest of the night and keep them warm. He slowly climbed from underneath his heavy blanket, careful not to make any noise, and went over to the firewood stacked inside a large basket. He put four logs into the fireplace, making sure they were positioned to yield a roaring flame, and then climbed back under his warm blanket without so much as a sound.

  As he covered himself up to his neck, he looked at Donetta, wrapped in her quilt, and it occurred
to him that she’d given him the heavier of the two blankets. She could have easily given him the thinner of the two, or, left him in the guest room altogether, but she hadn’t. He thought about how she’d barged into the room where he’d been lying wide awake, called him stupid, and told him that if he didn’t come into the living room on his own, she’d drag him there.

  That was one of the things beyond Donetta’s physical appearance that had attracted him to her. She was feisty and unafraid, and that made her a natural survivor. He also thought about how she’d taken care of him by giving him medicine and had even held a hot cup of tea to his mouth as he’d sipped. He’d been too weak to put up a fight, but again, as much as he didn’t want to admit his real feelings, the honest truth was that he’d enjoyed the way she’d taken care of him. Then finally, he remembered how she’d thought he was asleep and she’d told him she loved him. He was glad she didn’t know he’d been wide awake, because he hadn’t known what to say or do.

  Phillip took a deep breath and sneezed. His throat felt raw, his head hurt, and his body was sore. Just as he was about to turn on his other side, Donetta’s eyes flew open.

  “Are you okay? How do you feel?” she asked, full of concern.

  She didn’t have an ounce of grogginess in her voice, and he was amazed that she’d woken up without a struggle. She was clearly the morning person that he wasn’t, because if not for his alarm clock, he’d oversleep every day. She sat up as straight as an arrow and fluffed her hair. He could see that she’d changed at some point last night from the brightly colored lingerie she’d been wearing, into a pink thermal pajama set. She gathered her covers around her. “How do you feel this morning?” she asked again.