"The Decisions We Make"
EDITED BY:
Miriam Belle
CREATIVE CONSULTANT:
Simply_Cyn
Author's Note:
"First off let me say thank you to everyone who supported the first installment of "Red Orchids." People either loved it or hated it, which is cool. Everyone who has commented or sent me feedback agrees that Mark Gordian is the biggest asshole ever to walk the face of the Earth. Let me say that while Mark is a lot of fun to write, in no way do I share his philosophies. He's based a real guy I knew once, and while that man never plotted to kill his wife, his audacity in the area of infidelity was staggering.
The one driving criticism I encountered was over the length of the first chapter. That being said, I've broken the remaining two chapters in four parts for a quicker read. Special thanks go to miriambelle69 for her editing of the story and her patience with a stubborn novice author."
***
TUESDAY, MAY 24th
"Henry?"
Henry paused as he unlocked his office door. He knew who it was even before he turned around. He saw Mark Gordian, looking wickedly professional and slick in one of his immaculate dark suits, standing at the end of the hall. He looked well rested and almost carefree. He supposed that after what he had heard in Mark's office last night, he would have expected Mark to be a little more nervous. But to the contrary, he seemed to not have a worry in the world.
Henry nodded and made a little salute with one hand, "Howdy Mark."
Mark walked up to him, his expensive shiny shoes clicking and clacking on the hardwood floor. Mark stood by him and said, "Lovely morning, yes?"
"Gorgeous," Henry agreed as he opened his door and shoved his keys back into his pants pocket. His suit was an older, slightly worn neutrally colored three piece that looked about as modern as Henry did. He thought for a moment he might actually escape a conversation with Mark. Maybe Mark hadn't found the note that he had taped to his office door? Maybe Mark had just missed it and went home?
"I meant to ask you about this," Mark reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the note Henry had left for him.
Henry put on his wire-rimmed glasses and took the piece of paper Mark was holding out to him. He looked it over, trying to buy as much time as he could, and then said, "Oh yes."
Mark looked at him expectantly.
"Seems pretty self explanatory," Henry smiled amiably and handed the note back to him, "Ellen was worried about you last night."
"Yes she was," Mark followed Henry into his office and closed the door behind him. Once it clicked shut, he said, "What time did you stop by?"
"Oh," Henry looked thoughtful, "Around ten I'd say."
"And you didn't say hello?"
'Playing this game, are we?' Henry thought. He did not want to be in the middle of this at all, and the more he talked to Mark and the longer he stayed in this office the more unlikely it seemed he would keep his nose clean. He sighed and took his glasses off as he sat down behind his cherry oak desk. He said, "You sounded busy."
Mark nodded and sat his briefcase down on the chair opposite Henry's desk. He put his hands in his pockets and paced for a moment before saying, "Did you tell Ellen?"
"I haven't told Ellen anything, Mark," Henry said, "But for God's sake. A student?"
Mark smiled a hateful little grin that was both boastful and pointed, "A student, yes."
"Jesus," Henry shook his head.
"Are you passing judgment on me?" Mark asked.
"Of course not," Henry replied, "It's just that you're a teacher, you're married..."
"Are you making moral judgments?" Mark cut him off, "Let me remind you that I'm not the only one with secrets around here, Henry."
Henry sat back in his chair. This was getting ugly really fast, and while he had guessed that Mark wouldn't be happy about his discovering the affair, to bring up the matter of his own indiscretions put a whole new spin on things. He looked at Mark and saw not his friend and colleague and but a hypocritical fraud. He figured he had always known Mark was less than on the level. Normally he wouldn't have even associated with Mark. But, when he had met Ellen...
He chose not to remember the night it happened. The night Mark had discovered his secret was the night he had started living his life under real fear. It had embarrassed him to no end and it was only the grace of his humility that had allowed him to face Mark or Ellen again. He had done a good job thus far of keeping it all far from mind, but every so often something would trigger the memory like a booby trap. Each time the trap sprang, he would relieve the experience in his mind as though it were happening all over again for the very first time.
This time was no different as the memory flashed before his eyes in a horribly eternal moment...
'The night was settling in as the stars came out and glimmered in the sky. Henry can still smell the barbeque grill even now, an hour after they had just eaten. He walks through the garden of the large backyard, impressed and soothed by the fragrant scents of the plants and flowers. It is a beautiful garden Ellen has created here, and Henry knows that its beauty is only second to that of Ellen Gordian herself.
He chastises himself for thinking such thoughts about her. She is, after all, very much married and very much in love with Mark. But my God, they way she walks and talks is absolutely hypnotizing. She is possessed of such a classic beauty and simple kindness that he can't help but stare. Her body is curved and full in a tantalizing way, the undeniable size of her breasts and the silkiness of her hair a great temptation for Henry.
He walks on in the garden, letting his fingers stretch out to the tall, thick bushes that separate the garden from the swimming pool in a perfect wall. He hears a splash in the pool and stops in his tracks. Mark had gone out to the store to pick up some more wine and wasn't due back for another twenty minutes. Henry peers through the evergreen bushes and sees Ellen swimming. Her body is elegant and voluptuous, as he had imagined. She is naked, her full breasts almost floating on the surface of the rippling water.
Henry feels lightheaded as he watches. Why would she go swimming naked right now? Did she think he had gone with her husband to the store? She must have. Ellen would never have disrobed in front of anyone other than her husband. Yet, here she was gliding through the water like some kind of mythological siren, innocently beckoning him to consider what she would feel like under his body, what her sex would taste like. Henry shifts his weight to one side as he looks at her body and wonders.
