Hello, this is my first story. Please be gentle. I appreciate all feedback.
Kelly's World
Cat walked into the coffee shop and saw Kelly sitting in a booth at the back. She was dressed in her usual yoga pants and oversized shirt, her brunette hair tied in a no-nonsense ponytail. As always, she looked fantastic, but sitting there, he could see something was wrong. She looked tense. And where was Mike, her husband?
She saw him and waved, a smile crossing her face. The smile didn't reach her eyes--most unusual.
He navigated past the other patrons, and she stood up to give him a hug. As he embraced her, he asked, "What's wrong?"
Kelly replied, "Please sit. Do you want some coffee?"
"No," he replied. "I want to know what's wrong. Is it Mike? The mutts?" Cat had known Mike and Kelly since they met at the dog park two years ago. The couple had two rescues. The three of them had become close friends, much closer as a result of what happened a year ago.
But right now, Cat was really concerned, getting more so by the second. Kelly looked a wreck. Well, actually, she looked fabulous, but, he reflected, today she looked relatively fabulous.
She crossed her hands tightly and began to talk. "Mike is in Denver on business, but this is about him. You know I want to have babies, right? Mike knew this was always part of my plan."
"Go on," he said gently, though his mind raced: What the fuck is happening?
"The problem is, you know that for that to happen, we actually have to fuck," the last word was delivered with venom. "Mike has been having some problems psychologically with intimacy."
Cat was baffled as to why she was telling him this. She continued, her words coming quicker now. "Mike is convinced that I don't want to have sex with him, not even to have a baby. He thinks that I'm faking attraction to him because somehow, if he's the father, then my children will inherit all of the family money."
Cat was truly dumbstruck. He knew that Mike's family was wealthier than God, but he also knew Kelly. She didn't give a shit about his family's money.
Cat put his hand on Kelly's shaking ones. "What the actual fuck, Kelly? That is so unfair. You don't deserve this."
It was as if Kelly had this trapped inside her, and that simple act of kindness broke open the seals. She burst out crying, sobbing, looking broken. The table next to them glanced over, and Cat moved closer to her, holding her in his arms and shielding her from the onlookers. She was like a wounded bird, collapsed into his shoulder. He held her for ten minutes, gently murmuring words of comfort. Finally, when her breathing slowed, she went to the restroom while Cat bought coffees and a piece of carrot cake for them to share.
She emerged looking a little washed out but, as usual, like a one-person artistic revival project. God, she was so beautiful. Her chestnut brown hair cascaded in loose, effortless waves that framed her face in a way that looked both carefree and elegant. With a soft, natural wave, it fell just past her shoulders, catching the light as she moved. Her eyes, ordinarily a warm, deep hazel, seemed to shift between gold and green depending on the light, always sparkling with curiosity and kindness. She had a delicate, slightly upturned nose that complemented the subtle sweetness of her full lips. Her skin was fair, with a touch of warmth that gave her a healthy glow, and there was a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks--just enough to add to her charm. Today, however, she looked tired, her eyes devoid of their usual spark.
"Hey, I'm glad you could trust me with this. How can I help? Is there someone I need to hurt?" As soon as he said that, he regretted it. He quickly corrected himself, flashing back to the incident.
About a year after they had met, the three of them had been out for dinner. Walking back to the car, a man had tried to mug them. The mugger was gaunt, his face hollowed and pale, with sunken cheeks that told the story of years lost to addiction. His clothes hung loosely on his wiry frame, a dirty hoodie and ripped jeans that reeked of neglect. His eyes were bloodshot and jittery, darting between them with a mix of desperation and aggression, the knife in his trembling hand an extension of his shattered resolve.
Cat had calmly told his friends to hand over their money, his eyes fixed on the guy's chest, not his knife, knowing that once the knife was in motion, it was too late. He sank down on his heels with his hands held open, not wanting to escalate matters but ready. As Kelly and Mike fumbled for their wallets, something spooked the man, and he lunged forward toward Cat, who had placed himself squarely between the knife hand and his friends. Cat sidestepped, his hand slicing through the air, fingers upright and rigid. The heel of his palm struck the side of the attacker's neck with a sickening crunch, the momentum snapping the head violently to the side. For a brief moment, the man's body froze mid-motion before crumpling to the floor in an eerie stillness.
When the cops interviewed him after a night in lock-up, they said the attacker died instantly as a result of catastrophic cervical trauma. The strike had severed the spinal cord and fractured the third vertebra, a fatal injury that left no chance of survival. One of the officers, a grizzled veteran, muttered, "Never seen anything like it--clean, precise, and over in a second." Unfortunately for Cat, although it was ruled self-defense, the ne'er-do-well's family tried to sue him. Apparently, he was supposed to hit their little angel gently.
The thing was, a decade of Krav Maga had taught him otherwise: avoid the fight at all cost, run away if you can, but if you can't--your job was to survive. A year later, he finally felt free of all the badness, still not having stopped for a second to feel sorry for the asshole.
Kelly laughed and, smiling at him, said, "Oh, Cat, I know you're a gentle soul. I also know that if you need to protect those people you care about, you will do so."
"By people I care about, you mean people I love, right?"
Kelly smiled gently. "Yes, that's what I meant."
"The question remains: how can I help?"
