This story is of my creation, and the only other copy of it that exists is in there somewhere in my imagination. The song however, belongs to a great group, and well, you should listen to the song, its lovely! And yeah, like most of my other stories, not much of erotica, so if you're looking for steamy sex then well, I suggest you click on the Back button of your browser and read another story ^_^
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"He who loves the more is the inferior and must suffer."
(Thomas Mann)
Rylie stood in a corner trying to avoid the happy laughing people who filled the room; but at a party, especially a Christmas party, it was nigh on impossible to have the solitude her misery desired. People kept coming to her talking, asking about her plans for the holiday season.
She was polite; replying with a forced smile on her lips, trying to hide the pain she felt inside.
She hadn't wanted to be there, and she was only there because her friend Frieda had shamed her into attending.
"It will be Delia's last Christmas party before she goes overseas and it'll be awful if you don't attend," Frieda had admonished, and Rylie, too depressed to argue, had allowed Frieda to persuade her.
She could see him, it was hard not to. He stood in the middle of the room, his wife at his side, and a group of people around him. She couldn't blame them; he was charismatic and people were drawn to him like bees drawn to nectar.
"You were one of those people," a mocking voice in her head reminded her. Yes, she used to be one of those people, and still was in a wretched way. But now she was experiencing that agonizing mixture of love and hate -- hate because of what he had done to her and yet love because she still desired him.
* * * * * * *
Last Christmas, I gave you my heart
But the very next day, You gave it away
This year, to save me from tears
I'll give it to someone special
* * * * * * *
Matt watched Rylie as she stood in the corner of
the room, her eyes fixed on Dylan. His heart ached for her as he watched the expression on her face; an expression of hatred and yet mingled with deep longing. He knew she still ached for Dylan despite all he had done to her.
Matt tried to ignore her pain, but he couldn't. He had loved Rylie for the past two years but she never saw him as anything but a friend; she only had eyes for Dylan.
He had thought that she would eventually give up on Dylan because he at first failed to notice her, but then he did start taking notice. He saw in Rylie someone whom he could use to meet his sexual needs when his wife, Georgia, was away on one of her business trips.
Rylie, blinded by his charm and good looks, had entered into a passionate affair with him.
He had first inveigled her into his bed with words of love, and it never occurred to her that he was just using her as a comfort woman in his wife's absence.
She thought that he genuinely loved her, but time had proved her wrong. The previous Christmas, when Rylie, tired of having to share him, asked him to divorce Georgia , he had told her blatantly that his wife was far more important to him than her. It was then it became clear that he'd only been using her.
Devastated, it was to Matt that she turned for comfort, and he had held her as she wept her misery.
* * * * * * *
Once bitten and twice shy
I keep my distance but you still catch my eye
Tell me baby do you recognize me?
Well it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me
I wrapped it up and sent it
With a note saying "I Love You" I meant it
Now I know what a fool I've been
But if you kissed me now I know you'd fool me again
* * * * * * '
Matt went to Rylie now, to see if he could once more offer his comfort.
"How are you doing?" he asked her softly, giving her a hug.
"Not so good," Rylie whispered, glad that Matt was there.
"It's just that he doesn't care. I mean, look at him, parading around in front of me with his wife like that, knowing full well what he did to me
"But you must have known this would happen Rylie," Matt said, looking into her troubled face, "You knew - you must have known."
"Yes I suppose I did deep down," Rylie admitted miserably, "but we often don't listen to our inner wisdom and I'd hoped it would be otherwise."
"Do you still love him?" Matt asked.
Rylie shrugged her shoulders hopelessly saying. "I was so besotted with him - maybe I still am, but at least now I can blame him for a lot of what happened rather than take all the blame myself."
"That's something I suppose," Matt said, glancing across at Dylan and wishing he could punish him for what he had done to Rylie.
Neither of them said anything for a while, just standing in the corner and sipping their drinks; Rylie, her eyes still on Dylan and Matt gazing sorrowfully at her.
* * * * * * *
A crowded room, friends with tired eyes
I'm hiding from you and your soul of ice
My God I thought you were someone to rely on
Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on
* * * * * * * *
As he watched Rylie in her pain, the words he had longed to say to her welled up in Matt.
"You know I love you, Rylie."
"Oh Matt," Rylie said, turning to look into his eyes. "You knowβ¦."
Matt turned away from her, trying to compose himself. When he had control over his emotions, he turned to see Rylie looking at him with concern in her eyes. He smiled, trying to assure her that he was okay.
"I know." He said. "But I needed to get that
out."