I had a hard time finishing this story. Forgive me.
Thank you to blackrandl1958 for the edit, norafares for the support and confidence, D for the multiple rereads and the hand-holding, and Todd172 & stev2244 for asking me, "What is up with June fucking Silva?!"
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MELISSA
Melissa learned from an early age that men were simple creatures. They had basic drives and desires, and it was a woman's job to determine what those were and use them to her advantage. Men were easy to provoke to anger or lust. They were even easier to control. It wasn't their fault that they could be so easily swayed; it was just their nature. They were like children, Melissa often thought. Her father had been incredibly childish and pliable, and she watched her mother manipulate and persuade him until he could hardly do a thing independently. Toward the end of their marriage, he would even ask for permission to leave the room. Her mother had taught Melissa everything she needed to know about how to get a man to bend to one's will, and her father taught her everything about weakness. She knew that she would never, ever, let herself become like him: feeble and dependent on another for happiness.
Never.
In spite of the fact that things aren't going her way with John, she knows that he, and others like him, are weak losers, and she is a strong and fierce winner.
She thinks about this as she watches Sam connect her car to the tow truck. Sam could never be considered weak, and appreciation floods her body. She always thought he was attractive, but he was too close to home for her to act on her impulses. She eyes the way Sam's muscles tighten as he works and can't imagine him being easy to control at all. Melissa isn't surprised he's tied himself to Maggie, who is the type of person to apologize to a bee if one stung her. It would hardly occur to Maggie to manage him, and she senses that's part of the reason why Sam settled on her, for that's what he undoubtedly did.
Burnt afternoon sunlight lazily drapes shadows across the lot, and a light sweat clings to both their bodies. It's a humid day and not getting any cooler. A few dark clouds drift across the sky and Melissa remembers the weather report. It's supposed to be a dark and stormy night. How perfect.
"A storm's coming," she says, breaking the silence that Sam has established. "Hard to believe it after such a beautiful day, right?"
He grunts, but says nothing, busying himself with her car. When he's finished, he steps back and gives her a reluctant glance, as if the sight of her hurts his eyes. He's either repulsed by her or frightened of her, and she finds herself not minding either possibility. It won't matter.
He nods toward his truck. "I'll drive you back home."
She forces herself to look sad. "I thought you knew. I'm not... living there anymore. But I would appreciate it if you gave me a lift to my friend's house. She's only about ten minutes away."
He opens the passenger door for her and she slips in, making sure to extend her legs so her skirt rides up her thigh a bit. If Sam notices, he doesn't show it. Melissa can tell that he is a practiced gentleman, but there is something about the way his expression flickers that lets her know that underneath, he's the strong kind of man that is her favorite challenge. Underneath, he's not really a gentleman at all. He's rough in all the right places.
He gets in the car and immediately turns up the radio. The man on the station is talking about the weather and the flood warning in the area.
"I hate storms," she lies, because she senses that Sam is someone who enjoys offering comfort. Besides, it might sound dark and odd to admit to liking the chaos a summer storm brings.
He looks at her from the corner of his eye and then drives out of the lot. "I'm sure you'll manage. Do I turn left at the light? Or right?"
"Right. Then go all the way down until you can't go any further and make a left."
He nods once. His entire body is stiff. Alert. She likes that he's on guard around her. Thoughts of her failure with Ray dissipate, and she allows herself to enjoy the heady power of making another person uncomfortable. She doesn't know Sam well enough to determine exactly what he thinks of her, and she has no idea what June has told him about her, but she figures she knows Sam's type. She plays it the best way she can.
"How are Maggie and June doing?"
He makes the right turn and smiles. "Great. Maggie's about three weeks away from the due date, and June is doing well in school."
School. Melissa had temporarily forgotten about that. A smile works its way across her face as she momentarily thinks about how perverted her husband is, and she'd never known it! She has more respect for him than ever, but Melissa doesn't have time to enjoy this fact right now. She needs to stick to her plan.
"Maggie looks great. You two must be so excited."
Sam casts a wary glance at her, but his smile widens. "Yes, we are."
A melancholy song begins to play on the radio. Perfect.
"I always wanted a baby," Melissa says, letting her voice trail off, "but, you know..."
Sam offers no response, but his jaw tightens and Melissa gets the message: he knows. Well, that makes things harder, but not impossible.
"You probably know about John and me by now. It's... well, I don't know how to describe it." She sniffles. Sam might try hard at being the stoic silent gentleman, but he subconsciously leans in; everyone is fascinated with car crashes. "You wouldn't understand. You have a fantasy marriage."
"It's not a fantasy," he says. His dark eyes quickly scan over her face before returning to the road. She can't read his expression and she hates that. He's harder to understand than she thought he would be, but it makes her blood sing to needle him. "It's real. It's hard work, but it's great work. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Of course," she says, adding just a little bit of contrition into her tone. "I just meant you have what everyone wants. The perfect marriage."
His eyebrows lift but he says nothing.
The sun has nearly disappeared from the sky, and Melissa can taste the rain in the air. It is going to pour any minute.
They're silent for a while. Melissa sneaks glances at him, wondering when she should make her next move. Too soon, and it'll spoil the effect. Too late, and she won't be able to tell if she's been successful. She waits for him to get to the end of the road and make the left before speaking again.
"We have to go down this street for a bit. She lives on a street on the right, onSycamore."
"Got it."
"June must have told you about what happened with John." Melissa plays with her hair as if she's nervous. Sam's eyebrows raise again; he is surprised she's being direct about it. "I can't imagine what you think of me."
"I would suppose that it's none of my business."
Melissa examines Sam's rough hands and admires them as she debates what to say next. She wishes she could have a bit more fun with Sam, but she's not stupid enough to think she can actually seduce him. He is already waiting for one of her red nails to dance across his thigh. She can tell by the tight way he holds himself. "I screwed up." She honestly believes this, to an extent, so it isn't hard to inject earnestness into her voice. "John has his flaws, but he doesn't deserve what I did to him. No one does."
Sam sighs. "Like I said, none of my business. I keep my nose out of other people's marriages."
