Page 11 of Desolation

We make light conversation as we head to his house. I study his features as he drives. His curly brown hair, he keeps it short so it doesn’t turn into a fro. The softness of his cheekbones that contrasts with the definition of his jaw. The way his square black framed glasses sit just a little too low on his nose.

I’ve missed this man. For a long time he was the only one I could confide in. The only person I felt comfortable telling my problems and doubts to. But eventually we grew apart like many relationships. I wonder if my life would be different today if I kept him close in my life all these years.

“Do you ever plan on getting married again?” I ask him. He lost his husband in a car accident only a few years after they married.

He cuts his gaze to me. “You have a lot of questions?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“Something we need to change. I miss having you around. Gives me someone to make fun of.”

“Ha ha,” I mock.

“Why did you bleach your hair?”

I grab my locks out of habit, missing the length I used to have. “Wanted a change.”

“Looks like shit,” he says with a smirk.

I chuckle. “And this is why I don’t talk to you as much.”

We pull into his driveway and I am taken aback at the modern mansion he lives in.

“You sure you aren’t looking for a husband with this house?”

We both climb out of the Aston Martin and I can’t help but look at his collection of sports cars, including what looks to be his dream car, a 1959 Jaguar Roadster. I turn away as we head to the garage door leading inside. “This isn’t a house you buy when you’re looking for a husband.”

“Ahh, you want to be the sugar daddy,” I joke.

“Just want the young cock. They aren’t as clingy.”

I look at him to see if he’s joking and his face is so serious, I burst out laughing.

“My nieces and nephews like to come here so it’s nice to have the room.”

“And also to impress the young cock.”

“Duh.”

We walk into his kitchen and I pull my oversized sunglasses off my face. I am blown away. The chef’s kitchen is enormous with a ten-burner range, two refrigerators, and an island big enough for ten people. But the best part of the house is the expanse of floor to ceiling glass windows that overlooks the cliff his house sits on and into the ocean beyond. I’m in awe as I walk to the windows and stare out into the endless blue sea. There is something about the ocean. It’s timeless. The current wants to pull you into its beauty. It leaves you with a sense of peace and serenity.

I look across the patio and see a set of stairs that leads down to an infinity pool before winding down to an overlook of the beach.

“Quite the view isn’t it?” Dax asks me as he steps up next to me.

“Unbelievable.”

“I got lucky I found an ocean view house that didn’t look out on the marina. I didn’t want to see the boats. I wanted to see this.”

I turn toward Dax. “I would call this ocean front, Dax. You are practically on the water.”

His face contorts as he looks at me. A fire of rage flashes in his eyes as his hands go to my face.

I realize a second too late that my makeup must have come off in the humidity.

“What the fuck, Mari?”

I turn away from him and an unknown feeling overtakes my chest, it's heavy and intense, my breathing growing shallow.

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