It wasn’t easy bouncing back into the swing of things. It’s been over two years, and I still mourn the death of my mother as though it were yesterday. Sitting in the kitchen at the island, Lucia brings me this month’s issue of InSyle Magazine. She points to the lower right corner. The title reads, “Power Couple Steals the Show Again” above a picture of Victor and I on the red carpet at the 2012 Grammy’s some weeks ago. We both look stunning. I wore a red Valentino, long fitting, off the shoulder gown, with my hair in a chic, side-parted, ponytail. Victor complimented my attire with an all-white Armani tuxedo that fit him perfectly.
Lucia looks at me and says, “You always make he look more good.”
I chuckle. “I do. Don’t I.”
“Humph. Him just not know what him get.” She picks up the magazine and points at me in the picture. “Sweet Serenity more just this.”
Her statement makes me question who I’m laughing at. Me or Victor. “Maybe one day I’ll be more than just his “trophy wife”.” I use my first two fingers on each hand to represent the quotation marks. “I know Victor loves me beyond my beauty. He’s just too busy to show it. My love for him is un—.” The phone interrupts our conversation.
Lucia picks up the receiver, “White residence.” The look that overcomes her face sends a blow to my stomach. She tells them they have the wrong number in Spanish, hangs up, hurries to me, and pulls me through the kitchen onto the patio. “Him say speak to Melody Moore.”
My feet go numb, then my knees. I try to move, but I’m unable to. Lucia helps me to the sofa and closes the sliding window that separates the outside from the inside to ensure our conversation remains discrete. She comes back and sits beside me, places a pillow on her lap, lies my head on the pillow, and begins rubbing my hair. I’m stuck. My eyes dry out as I cannot blink. I feel like my body has a mind of its own. No matter how much it tells my eyelids to blink or my body to move, the communication is not connecting one to the other.
I try to speak, “Di—,”. My throat dries out completely. Lucia lifts my head and sits me up and gets me water. I drink and try to speak again, but I forget what I want to say.
“It be alright, maybe it be old friend?”
How did they get this phone number? How did they know my name? Questions flood my brain. Then suddenly, the numbness disappears, my eyes water, so I blink, and swallow. “Did you say he?”
“Si.” She cups my hands in hers. “Me call Malik see if he trace call?” After my mother’s death and they distributed the inheritance, I let my father keep the house that he and my mother made a home. If that’s what you want to call it. Malik lives there and takes care of everything on behalf of my father. We keep in touch with him often, just in case we need his services.
“That’s a brilliant idea, Lucia.” I mumble with my head down. Maybe it was my father? But he knows my new identity, I answer my thought and then look up and repeat it to Lucia for clarification. “Could it have been Papa?”
“Papa know she Serenity.” She confirms my answer.
My head falls as I try to come up with another solution. Who would be bold enough to call my home looking for Melody Moore? Thank God Victor is never home. How would I explain to him who Melody Moore is? Would he leave me? If he truly loves me the way he says he does, then he would understand. Does that make me selfish? I’m feeling overwhelmed. “I will lie down for a little while.” I leave Lucia seated as I remove my shoes and lie down.
“I wish I could get you to make those same noises when I’m making love to you,” I hear my husband say. I open my eyes and he’s in bed, lying next to me on his side, with his head propped up on his hand. He still has his work clothes and shoes on. He gently uses his forefinger to move the flying hair strands out of my face.
I stretch and moan before rubbing my eyes. “What do you mean?” I ask in a soft, confused tone.
“You were moaning in your sleep again.” Victor stands and begins removing his clothes, starting with his shirt and tie. I undress him with my eyes before he does. “You still can’t remember them? Not even when you first wake up?” He sits next to me and I slowly sit up. I’ve been having some weird dreams for the past two or three months. They sometimes wake me up out of my sleep and have me up for the rest of the night. There have even been several times I’ve awaken to wet panties and a rising cookie dough… wet vagina. In the dreams, it’s me having sex with a faceless woman.
I wonder what that means. It’s been years since I’ve been with a woman. Not just any woman, though. She was the love of my life. The woman of my dreams is shaped just like her. I wonder if it is Carmen that I dream about. What does it all mean? Does this mean she’s coming to find me? What does it mean? I will someday have to tell Victor of my past life. Today isn’t the day.
“Now, you wouldn’t keep anything from me, would you?” He asks as he pecks on my lips, chin, then neck so delicate, that it causes my neck hairs to stand on end. He knows how to turn me on. One thing starts another, and lovemaking becomes my escape from reality for the next hour.
Afterwards, I lie in his arms, playing with the few hairs on his chest. He speaks and I listen. “You know how much I love you right?” I nod my head. “Good. Because I don’t want you to feel you’re not the love of my life when you are. I have loved no one how I love you. I may have a hard time showing it, but please be patient with me. And please never leave me.” He kisses my forehead and gets up to shower. I unlock the drawer to my nightstand and get my journal and pen.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
8:23pm
Victor sure knows how to ease my mind. Even if it is only for the moment. Lucia was Team Victor until she moved back home and saw the interior of our relationship. Mother always told me that “You never truly know a person until you live with them.” She wasn’t lying about that, let Lucia tell it. She thinks I deserve more. She feels as though he spends more time at the office, studio, or social events than he does at home with me. I agree, but I also understand he has to work. This is his dream. I would never ask him, nor will I ever distract him from fulfilling his dream. I’ve learned that in life, make sacrifices. Lucia says I’m sacrificing true bliss by staying with Victor. Could it be that I’ve become so complacent in the relationship, that I’ve settled? I think I’m happy… but what is happiness? I married Victor for Victor. I sometimes question if he married me for me. Does he even know who I am… or what I like, besides wonderful sex? Why do I do this to myself? Am I just his “trophy wife”?
My husband knows me. My husband loves me. Of course, he married me for me. What other reason would he have to marry me? Sex is my escape from reality. My husband is my connection to the sex. My body has become dependent upon him. Like he has a magnet to my cookie, and it’s pulling my heart in the direction my mind is telling it not to go. Is that love? He asks me to be patient with him, but how much longer does he expect me to wait for him to show me his undying love.
These dreams I’ve been having confuse me because it’s like I’m there, and the dream is real, but then when I wake up, aside for me being horny as fuck, I remember very little.
MM