Faith
Part 4
By Heather
The thunder rolls
And the lightening strikes
Another love goes cold
On a sleepless night
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls
Michelle shrugged his arm off her
shoulder and stepped back.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on
me,” she whispered, moving further away from him and wrapping her arms around
her body as a bone-shaking cold enfolded her heart, mind, and soul.
He raised his hands again, in a
mock gesture of surrender, the look on his face hidden from her knowing eyes.
“I only want you to hear what I have to say,” he implored her,
sitting down on the couch and looking up at her with pleading eyes.
But Michelle would have nothing
of it. She didn’t believe him at
all; too many years of lying to herself and to everyone else had taken its toll.
She had lost her faith in him; there was no going back for her.
The thunder rolled again as she
sat down in the immense, overstuffed recliner in the living room.
She appeared lost in the cavernous expanse of the blood red fabric.
Danny shifted in his place on the matching couch, his face carefully
shrouded by the shadows cast by the large drapes that hung on the wall sized
windows.
Michelle shivered, as lightening
splashed its brilliant light across the room, highlighting their faces as if
daylight had suddenly intruded the comfort of the dark.
For that split second they saw each other, illuminated by the soft glow.
Confusion and fear overwhelmed
her as she huddled in her chair, arms wrapped almost painfully around her waist.
Questions ran rampant in her mind, as it struggled to wrap it’s self
around all that had happened to her in that moment when she smelled another
woman’s scent on her husband.
Danny shifted again, the couch on
which he sat groaning in protest as he moved, the uncomfortable silence
irritating him.
Finally Michelle lifted her dry,
lifeless eyes to his and asked one simple question.
“How long has this been going
on Danny?” she asked, her voice pitched low, emphasizing the pain she was
bearing.
Danny shrugged half-heartedly and
sighed.
“Danny,” she whispered
quietly. “Please…have some respect for me now…just please tell me the
truth. How long have you been
seeing…this…other woman,” she asked again, her sorrow evident in her
voice.
“A few months,” Danny
muttered.
Michelle sighed and nodded.
She sat in her large chair, looking lost and alone.
Reaching behind her she pulled the soft, cream-colored throw around her
small shoulders.
“Who is it?” she asked, her
eyes staring off to some spot just beyond Danny’s eyes. Danny faltered and her eyes snapped back to his.
Fury, sadness, and something else he couldn’t quite define snapped
there, making his blood run strangely cold.
“Do you really want to know
that?” he asked, surprised by the nod of her head and the plea in her eyes.
Sighing again, he shifted almost painfully on the couch.
He didn't fully understand her quietness, her
lack of emotion. It confused
him...and almost scared him.
He whispered one name under his
breath, so low that she almost didn’t hear it.
But hear it she did.
“Cassie.”