The Siren's Curse- Chapter One

When I walk through the door of my home, I don't bother to yell to my wife that I'm home. She won't say anything back.

Oh, how I miss the early days in our marriage. When I'd come home and Lucy would greet me at the door, eyes shining as she throws her arms around my neck and kisses me.

Now, when I announce that I've returned from a long day at work to help provide for her needs, all I get in return is silence.

Following my usual routine, I poke my head into our room, searching for my wife. Huh. Nowadays, after she's finished her chores, she lays down in our room for a nap. Not yet concerned, I peek into the kitchen, separated from the living room/entryway by a wall.

She's not there.

Panic rising in my chest, I flip open my phone and dial her number. I tap my foot on the floor and pray for her to answer. Please. Please, Lucy. Pick up.

After ringing four times, she answers. "Hey, Benjamin," she giggles. I can hear the flush of her cheeks in her voice. A little bolt of excitement strikes my heart. It's been so long since she was this excited to talk to me.

"Lucy. Where are you?"

"I'm just at the grocery sto-" She breaks off with a delighted yelp. The muffled sound of creaking, lip smacking, and soft moans follows. My blood runs cold as understanding dawns on me. That is the sound that my wife and I used to share every night. Her soft, elated whispers, almost too low for me to hear, say "Wait. I need to finish this call. Then we can get right back to it."

She clears her throat and continues. "Sorry. They're giving out samples and they're so good!"

Oh, I wish I could believe her.

"That's great," I reply, filling my voice with all the honey and sunshine I could muster up.

"I'll be home in a few hours. I have a few more errands to run," she adds.

Bile rises in my throat. I think I know exactly what kind of errands she's talking about.

"Bye," I say, more curt than I wanted to sound.

"Okay," she says. "Bye."

She doesn't hang up though. A low growl sounds through the phone, and she yelps again as bedsprings creak beneath her.

Oh, Lucy. I flip my phone shut, my heart splintering into a thousand pieces.

...

Marc and David invite me out to the club later that evening. Lucy is supposed to come home soon, but I really don't want to talk to her. I can't face her. Not since I know what she did.

So I accept their invitation.

They're the last people I'd go clubbing with, but Marc offered to pay for the drinks. I can't say no.

When I walk into the club, I almost want to leave. It's so crowded. Not to mention, it smells like body odor and other unpleasant smells. But Marc is paying for the beer. Who can resist free beer? Not me, that's who.

Also. If I went back, I'd have to talk to Lucy.

So I accept a beer from Marc and drink away.

The band playing is obviously drunk. Their eyes are glassy, they're all off-tempo, and the lead singer's words are slurred and incomprehensible. Just as I'm finishing my first beer, three men in suits creep out of the crowd. After speaking with them quietly for a moment, the lead singer throws his hands up in the air and starts yelling. "You can't kick us out! You gave us a contract for an hour!"

"You're not fulfilling your part of the contract. Next time, if there is a next time, you fellows ought to wait until after your gig to drink." The five-person band is escorted gently but firmly off the premises by the three men in suits. Everyone in the club watches, eyes amused at the band's compliance.

Marc plops down in his seat beside me. "Wonder who's up next," he says, eyes curious.

Without any music, people are set on edge. Eyes dart around uncomfortably. Voices lower and become barely audible. No one is dancing. To put it succinctly, it's awkward.

Without any music, my thoughts turn back to Lucy. Whether she's home by now. What she's doing if she isn't home yet. What she's doing if she is.

What she's doing is sick. I can't believe this. I work a nine to five job for her. I've been married to her for ten years, and faithful to her through it all.

Part of me wants to know how long her affair has been going. Another part doesn't care. And a final third of me really doesn't want to know.

A collective sigh fills the club. I turn around to see a tall, curvy woman wearing a black dress made of sequins, rhinestones, and pure black peacock feathers. One side doesn't have a strap, revealing her slender, toned shoulder, while on the other side, peacock feathers spray into the air like a dark, crested ocean wave about to engulf her shoulder.

Dave, Marc, and I aren't right next to the stage, but even from here, her verdant green eyes pierce mine across the club. Her dramatic black eyeliner and eyeshadow make them even brighter. Her red hair, tied up in an elaborate bun on the top of her head, shines even in the dingy lighting of the club.

Dave whistles. "She's a looker, ain't she?"

I nod absently as the music starts. Broody, dissonant music played by a brass ensemble spills through the speakers. The entire club turns to face the singer, enraptured with the opening notes.

Then, she opens her mouth, and all the speaking goes quiet. Her low notes are rich and smooth like honey.

Tell me, baby

Is there a reason that you left me?

Or were you tired of my drama?

Did you just wanna run to mama?

Then, she brings her voice up into her high register and it becomes sharp and sweet as fresh ice.

Oh-oh

Her voice fell back into the velvety richness of her lower range.

Never took you for a charmer

Yet you said her bed was warmer

You didn't even want to warn me

Just walked right out the door but now I see

Her eyes close as she returns to her high notes.

Yeah, you're just a dirty player

But I know that I can't hate her

Not too long ago, I was that girl

Until you left and broke my world

And then you broke my world

You took my world

She meets my gaze as she finishes the song. The rest of the words bleed out of my mind as soon as they hit my ears. All I can hear is her voice, low and crooning, then sharp and piercing. All I can see are those eyes, digging into my very soul. This odd feeling bites into me that, whether I want her to or not, she's going to come to me after she's finished her gig.

There's no escaping her now.

Time passes in a whirl under her spell. Before I know it, Dave taps my arm. "Hey. I think we are heading out. You coming?"

I open my mouth, unsure of what to say. Marc rescues me.

"He's not coming with us. Did you see him and that singer staring at each other? It was like they were the only two in the room."

Not the only two in the room. The only two in the world.

Dave frowns. "What about Lucy?" he asks. He knows my wife fairly well.

A sneaking suspicion enters my mind. Dark and bitter. What if it was Dave that was sleeping with my wife? But as soon as the thought came, I banish it. There's no way he'd betray me like that.

"She's having an affair with another man," I admit, my eyes falling to my clasped hands.

Dave and Marc both go silent. It's much more evident than it would be if the club was still roaring with voices bouncing together into a cacophony. "I'm sorry man," Marc says. "You could go talk to her though."

"Too late," Dave whispers. "Here she comes."

I glance up. Dave is right. The singer slides between tables with an otherworldly grace. It's like she's floating.

"Hello," she says. "My name is Elaine."

Elaine. A sweet, girly name. Somehow, it suits the flirty young singer, despite its childishness.

"Did you like my songs?" she asks, green eyes warm and inviting as they connect with mine.

"Yeah. Your voice... it's... divine," I reply, the soft ghost of a smile touching my lips.

Marc and Dave melt away, yet I barely notice. Elaine is my sole focus, her green gaze undeniably magnetic, pulling me deeper and deeper into the mysterious depths of her gaze.

"Would you like to come back to my apartment?" she asks, batting her eyelashes.

Relief floods my body. If she'd asked to come to mine, then I'd have to explain that I couldn't bring her back, that my wife was there. Then she'd know that I'm married. Then she'd decide that she didn't want to be that girl.

Then again, there's a subtle knowing in her gaze. An edge to the way she suggested it. As if to say, I know you're married, but that's okay with me.

I nod. I might as well.

...

The drive passes in a blur of lights and music playing over the radio. Elaine sings along, her soft voice achingly beautiful.

She whisks me up two floors to her apartment. She pours wine in a thin-stemmed, delicate glass and sets it on the countertop in front of me. It looks like a little piece of art.

"I'll be back out in a moment," Elaine says. "I need to change into something more comfortable."

I nod, smiling as she hip-swishes away. Her apartment is beautiful. From the fancy wineglass, from the dark-stained wood floors to the white marble countertops. Her stove and fridge are both plated with stainless steel, and the cupboards are made of wood darker than the floors. The light dangles from the ceiling on a chain. It's a subtle opulence- but she's still wealthy.

When she returns, she's wearing black sweats and a loose olive-green top. The richness of her shirt contrasts with her loose red hair, and her eyes turn darker and flaunt golden flecks in the center. Her makeup is all gone, leaving her face fresher, but no more innocent. She pours herself a glass of wine. Her full, rosy lips curve up in a smile as she lifts it to her lips.

"What is your name?" Elaine asks, eyes warm.

"Benjamin. But you can call me Ben," I add, smiling back.

"I'm glad I met you, Ben," she replies.

I frown a little. She speaks in such an easy, friendly voice. Not like she's aiming to seduce me. I thought by now that we'd be in her bed, making love with sparks flying between us.

But her eyes twinkle with genuine interest toward... me. She's not just interested in the ferocious love we could make. She doesn't just want to claim my body in an epic quest of passion.

She wants to know my mind. My strength. My weakness. My fire.

This is even more pleasurable than any one-night stand could be. It's a sweeter kind of passion. Like a fifth grade crush.

Warmth blooms in my cheeks and chest at her soft green gaze. Elaine is so beautiful. Even better, she's genuine. Not just a woman prowling the streets to find prey to sink her teeth into, then leave the next morning.

She wants real love.

After a moment of holding eye contact, her face breaks into a grin and her eyes drop into her lap.

My heart pounds with a thrum of desire. I want her. I need her. I will have her love.

I don't know where this journey is going to take me. Maybe I'll regret meeting her. Maybe it'll turn out right. All I know is that I'm going to enjoy every second of it.

...

Thanks for reading!! Drop a like if you enjoyed. If you want to see more of this story, subscribe. Chapter two is coming soon, and I hope you'll be here to enjoy it.