A STORY TOLD IN SONG: 2

I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Here’s another 750-word piece which is a continuation of Phillip and Annabelle’s story from Woman Have You Got Cheating On Your Mind? which I guess is an admission I couldn’t do a truly 750-word story! Oh well, I hope you will forgive me and enjoy 750-word instalments instead!

There will be at least one more after this one.

As always I need to thank my partner in crime, the man who makes me laugh, Van1. He’s a helluva editor and proofreader and he always makes me dig deeper to write a better tale – thank you, my love.

Happy Reading.

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JUST AS ANNABELLE suspected, Phillip didn’t relinquish the mic. Would he forgive or condemn?

She risked another glance at Rick and Melissa. Rick had recovered somewhat and was now attempting to look casual and unconcerned, leaning back on his chair and sipping his beer. He wasn’t quite succeeding. There was too much tension around his eyes, across his shoulders. Too much avoidance of meeting gazes. Melissa looked confused. Knowing her friend, Annabelle recognised the beginning of fear in her eyes as she looked up at her husband.

Annabelle stared at Phillip, tense, willing him to not expose her and Rick to the entire room. He stared back, his expression giving nothing away.

She listened carefully to the opening bars of the song, hoping for a clue. It was an unusual mix of an electronic beat with piano. It sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place it.

You and me we made a vow
For better or for worse
I can’t believe you let me down
But the proof is in the way it hurts

Phillip made no attempt to mask his pain. Everyone could hear it. Annabelle averted her gaze. She knew if she made eye contact the transfer of his agony to her would be brutal. She realised that made her a coward but she wasn’t strong enough to deal with the hell those eyes conveyed. She’d shatter under its weight.

For months on end I’ve had my doubts
Denying every tear
I wish this would be over now
Because I know you’re not really here

It was over. He was saying it’s over. Annabelle dropped her chin, grateful for the way her hair fell forward to conceal her face. She prayed for the strength to hold back the tears threatening to fall. All she could hope for now was to be left a sliver of dignity.

You say I’m crazy
‘Cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done
But when you call me baby
I know I’m not the only one

Annabelle, oblivious to all but Phillip’s voice as he sang the demise of their marriage, didn’t notice the silence in the bar. She wasn’t the only one to recognise something momentous was happening.

You’ve been so unavailable
Now sadly I know why
Your heart is unobtainable
Even though Lord knows you kept mine

At the final line of the verse, Annabelle looked up in hope. Did it mean there was a chance for them?

You say I’m crazy
‘Cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done
But when you call me baby
I know I’m not the only one

No. Each word of the chorus hit like a blow. She flinched with each one. Phillip loving her was irrelevant. Her betrayal made reconciliation impossible.

Would he choose to destroy her by naming her lover?

I have loved you for many years
Maybe I am just not enough
You’ve made me realize my deepest fear
By lying and tearing us up

Annabelle could feel the condemnation directed at her. Please don’t name Rick. She braced herself, certain Melissa would put two and two together any moment and she’d have to confront the pain she and Rick had inflicted on her friend, his wife. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to face it on top of Phillip’s.

You say I’m crazy
‘Cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done
But when you call me baby
I know I’m not the only one

Run! Her instinct for self-preservation screamed, but something, some shred of decency kept her immobilised. She remembered when she was thirteen and her father caught her shoplifting. He’d accompanied her back to the store and made her confess to the owner. She thought she’d die of shame.

This was one thousand times worse. Hundred thousand times worse.

You say I’m crazy
‘Cause you don’t think I know what you’ve done
But when you call me baby
I know I’m not the only one

Annabelle wished the song would end and free her from the spell of Phillip’s voice serenading the world with her betrayal. Please don’t name Rick.

I know I’m not the only one

Again and again he sang the final line of the chorus. Each rendition twanged the tension clawing in her gut.

I know Rick is your only one

Oh no. He’d done it. Phillip had done it. He’d named her lover.

Suddenly, Annabelle’s cheek was on fire. She looked up into the eyes of her former best friend.

TO BE CONTINUED!

HERE’S A JOKE TO EASE THE PAIN OF WAITING FOR THE NEXT INSTALMENT!

A drunk man who smelled like beer sat down on a subway next to a priest.

The man’s tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket.

He opened a newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes, the man placed the newspaper on his lap and turned to the priest and asked. “Say, Father, what causes arthritis?”

The priest replied. “My Son, it’s caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol, contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes, and a general lack of cleanliness.”

The drunk muttered in response, “Well, I’ll be damned.” Then returned to his paper.

The priest, thinking about what he had said, felt guilty. He hadn’t shown the Christian quality of forgiveness. He nudged the man and apologised. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?”

The drunk answered, “Oh, I don’t have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does…”