Fragments from the Veil — Chapter 5

I see Kristen — greyish blue eyes ... perfect smile ... Greek nose ... long, straight hair tied with a scrunchie. I hear her voice — calm ... thoughtful ... feminine.  

I’m awake ... but still dreaming.  

She’s wearing light blue scrubs ... grey sneakers with pink borders ... white ankle socks. She laughs — I love it when she laughs ... I love her.  

Where am I? I’m lying on a bed ... feels like my own ... it must be my own. I’m cold ... naked. Why am I naked?  

My bladder feels full — but the heaviness of sleep is on me. I don’t even open my eyes ... I just drift in the dark ... into sleep.  

I see her again — she’s sitting on the round, oversized couch ... where Mandy and I used to make love ... where I made love to Mona — but now it’s not them ... it’s Kristen.

I pull off her sneakers — I breathe in the scent on her socks ... kiss her arches and toes ... take off her ankle socks ... I kiss her feet more ... the scent on her skin makes me hard.  

I open my eyes — I’m in our bedroom ... mine and Mandy’s. I’m naked ... hard ... and my bladder’s full. Why am I naked?  

I pull the blanket over me and close my eyes again ... I think I can hold it longer and sleep some more. The blanket feels so soft ... but I’m too sleepy.

Kristen and I had dinner together ... but she left in a red car ... her boyfriend’s red car.  

I drove back ... but I didn’t make it back. I stopped the car ... to listen to music ... to cry.  

How did I get here?  

I drift back into sleep ... it seems for hours.  

I remember …  

I see the things in my car — a tissue box, a pen, loose change, a tennis ball — they all float up ... slowly ... toward the roof.  

I hear the words — “Look up!”  

I do ... then I see light ... only light. I’m encompassed by light.  

I open my eyes again — it’s daytime. I wonder what time it is. I’m on my bed ... I’m naked ... and I don't remember getting here.  

I saw the light ... then nothing. After the light, I was here.  

Then, I see it for the first time — a long thin line on my skin ... on my belly ... on my chest ... on my pubic region. It looks like a scar ... a surgical scar — but I didn't have one before.  

“What’s this?” I ask myself.  

My bladder is full — and it hurts. I get up, but I can hardly walk ... the pain.

I sit on the toilet, doubled in pain. I wait long for the pee to come out ... I wait ... eventually, it comes out — a long and exhausting stream ... warm ... relieving.  

There’s a loud knocking on the door — imposing and demanding.  

Who the hell knocks like that!  

I grab a square of toilet paper, fold it in half, and fold it again ... to make it thick. I dab the few drops of pee clinging to my foreskin and dripping from my urethra.  

I drop it into the toilet ... get up ... and flush.  

I glance at the mirror and quickly run my fingers through my hair.  

The knocking continues.  

I see the scar on my chest reflected on the mirror — it looks like an old scar ... though I’ve never had one. It runs from the top of my chest to my pubic region — as if I had been sliced open and then glued back together. “What the fuck!”  

The knocking continues — that asshole’s found the doorbell now!  

“For fuck’s sake!”  

I go to the room, throw on my navy blue robe, and rush downstairs to the kitchen, where I check the screen for the doorbell.  

It’s Joseph, my father-in-law! — a principled and caring father. He should be at his home with Mandy and the children — something must be wrong!  

I worry for the children — for Clara (my princess), Jude (the quiet one), and Nell (the baby). I worry for Mandy.  

I run to the door and rush to open. I unlock the deadbolt and the doorknob ... I have to remove the latch — how is the latch still on?  

I open — “Is everything alright?” I ask Joseph, with dread and worry in my voice.  

The impact on my stomach knocks the wind out of me, causing me to stoop. I look up to gasp for air and receive a blow on my left cheek. It knocks me on my back — my robe falls open, exposing me ... humiliating me.  

“Stay away from Mona, you son of a bitch!” yells Joseph — then he punches my face once again ... on the same side. The back of my head bounces hard against the floor. “And from Mandy and the kids!” he yells.  

I can’t breathe ... I can’t see ... I’m disoriented ... I’m panicking. Confused, I try to ask him for help ... but I can’t speak as I’m still gasping for air.  

I feel and hear him pass over me — then, I hear his boots climbing up the stairs.  

Did he find out about me and Mona? She must have said something!  

Joseph is a principled and caring father, but I have transgressed his law.  

I lie on the floor, beaten ... shamed.  

I keep gasping for air. Each time, I get a little more — and my vision returns gradually.  

I have a strong headache from the impact on the back of my head, and the left side of my face is throbbing. He got me there both times.  

My back aches ... my abdomen has a sharp pain.  

I turn myself and try to get up ... but I fall. I lie face down on the floor ... breathing ... waiting to recover.  

Some minutes pass, and I try again to get up. I manage to stand on my feet, but I’m unsteady.  

I walk and wobble to the steps. I hold onto the handrail ... and begin walking upstairs. My legs are shaking, and I keep missing steps.  

When I get upstairs, I begin to feel lightheaded, so I drop to the floor to make sure I don’t fall down the stairs.  

I wait.  

I get up again and walk to the room. I find Joseph there — he’s grabbing clothes and things from the drawers and the closet, packing them into a pair of large duffle bags.  

“What are you doing?” I ask, confused ... trying to engage him in conversation.  

He glances at me — there’s anger in his eyes. “Stay there,” he warns me. “I’ve got more of this (he shows me his fist) where that came from.”  

I’m furious now, I want to hurt him, but I realize I can’t. He may be old, but he’s tall and strong ... and I’m hurt ... lightheaded ... and I can hardly stand.

"I'm packing Mandy’s things,” he says, as he resumes packing the duffle bags with her clothes. “Then the children’s — whatever I can fit in these bags. You can mail the rest later ... or I can come back here again.”  

"Why?” I say to myself, but he heard me. 

“Because Mona’s pregnant!” he yells, slamming the dresser with his palm.  

His words surprise me — I wasn’t expecting that.  

“She’s having your child!” he shouts.  

I can’t think of anything to say — “I’m sorry ... I didn’t know."  

She hadn’t told me she was pregnant.  

“She’s Mandy’s sister!” he protests, yelling. “It’s not about what you knew or didn’t know — it’s about what you did ... it’s about how you betrayed Mandy ... and about how you took advantage of Mona.”  

I didn’t take advantage of her ... we were both consenting adults — or did I?  

“Mandy’s leaving you — she and the children are moving in with me and her mom.”  

“They’re my children!” I yell ... but I black out when I yell, so I hold on to the frame of the door.  

“So is Mona’s child! —” he yells back, breaking the mirror on the dresser with his fist. Then he adds, “So, we’ll send you the bills.”  

"I know things look bad now ... but if I can talk to them...”  

“No, you won’t!” he rules. “You will not talk to them!”  

“Things will get better ...”  

“No, they won’t!” he decrees. “They won’t get better because it’s over — Mandy is done with you, Mona doesn’t want you, and you’re not welcome in my house. Now, get the hell out of my sight before I really hurt you!”  

His face is hot red with anger when he yells — the veins and muscles on his neck protruding. He’s glaring at me.  

I’m afraid ... so I turn away and start heading downstairs — there’s nothing I can say or do. I’m also hurt ... not feeling well ... and feeling conflicted. I can’t help it when the tears come out.  

I hold onto the handrail once again ... with both hands this time — I don’t want to fall. I walk downstairs — carefully, but as fast as I can.  

When I’m finally in the living room, I head to the oversized, round couch. I drop onto it and lie there.  

I realize the front door is still open, but I won’t close it with him in the house.  

I wonder where my phone is.  

I’m trying to get a hold of myself, but the tears keep coming out — Mandy and the kids are leaving me ... Mona’s pregnant ... I’m hurt ... and my body has been scarred ... violated. 

I keep telling myself it will be alright.  

He doesn't see it — none of them see it — but I do.  

Mandy and Mona — we just need to be open-minded and break the rules — like Kody and Meri from that show that I never finished watching ... what’s it called?  

Even as a pre-teen, I wanted this — when I used to fantasize in bed. I truly love Mandy — but she’s not enough ... I need more.  

I remember... Mona came because she had been on a road trip. She hadn’t been able to get a hold of Mandy, who was out with the children, visiting her friend in Chicago.  

“Come in and rest,” I said. “You’ve had a long trip. I’ll make dinner.”  

We chatted for a while, and she showed me pictures of her trip. She’d been hoping to stay for a few days, so I told her to make herself comfortable in the guest room.  

While she did her laundry, I made us pasta with garlic butter, shrimp, mussels, and scallops. I also served us plenty of Sauvignon Blanc.  

I told her to find a movie, and she chose one from my movie collection ... still on DVD’s — Far and Away. I’d seen it a few times when I was a teenager, but only once after college. Nicole Kidman is ravishing in that movie ... and in Cold Mountain.  

Coming from cooking and washing the dishes, I sat next to her on the round couch. I reached for the lotion and rubbed some on my hands and feet.  

“Want some?” I offered.  

Mona extended her hands, and I poured lotion in them. She rubbed it on her hands, arms, and knees.  

When she finished, I lifted her feet to my lap and untied her canvas shoes.  

“Thank you,” she said, smiling with delighted and bashful surprise.  

"You've been driving four hours — your feet must be sore,” I said.  

“Oh, yes —” she said, “they really are.”  

I took off her shoes and dropped them on the floor.  

The scent of warm and moist feet was on her frilly socks — she wiggled her toes.  

I rubbed her feet through the socks first — because they felt so soft.  

After that, I removed her socks and applied lotion to her feet and massaged them. I can still remember their scent. She sighed as I stretched her toes and rubbed her arches. “That feels great,” she said.

I noticed then the sparkle in her eyes, the wine in her voice — she liked it ... and she wanted more. 

She’s an attractive, classy, and sophisticated young woman — yet she’s single.  

But it’s not fair to Mandy — when we married, we agreed to a traditional union. One built on mutual security and shared ownership. But now, she wants to subtract, while I want to add.  

What does Mona really think? 

Joseph came down the stairs — his grey walrus moustache bristling and hiding his expression, his eyes looking ahead and outside the house through the open door. “I’m done,” he said, as he walked past me.  

Once he was out of the house, I got up and stepped outside — I saw him climb into his blue Tundra.  

I stood on the driveway, hoping to send a message to Mandy, the children, and Mona — but he drove off before I could speak.  

I was overwhelmed.  

I broke in tears. 

I had a sharp headache, and I felt lightheaded.  

The left side of my face was still throbbing.  

My back and abdomen were still aching.  

I dropped to my knees, crying like a child — broken, scarred, and alone. 

Author’s Note

This story is part of Fragments from the Veil, a mythic cycle of desire, rupture, and strange illumination. It continues the arc where longing first met transgression. Now, the light has shifted—and the narrator must metabolize what remains.

If you’re new to this world, you may wish to begin with Chapter 1, or simply let this fragment stand on its own.

Related Chapters

Fragments from the Veil — Chapter 4

Fragments from the Veil — Chapter 6