Too Beautiful

She filed her nails in the parlor corner, rolling her eyes as he turned the radio to John Coltrane once again. She didn’t see him looking at her eagerly, hoping she would stand for a dance only to be disappointed once again. She hated Coltrane and he knew it, but he still hoped that she would change.

“Sarah, please,” he implored. “Just one dance.”

She stopped her filing and looked at him from the corner of her eyes. He wasn’t looking at her. The radio was his only focus. She swallowed thickly; his patience had worn thin as her heart had danced away from him.

“James, please, stop asking.”

He sighed and sank. Their marriage of three years had been falling apart. He blamed her. Over time, she had become harder on him. He wasn’t allowed to enjoy his life. He wasn’t allowed to be funny or listen to his music. The relationship had become whatever she wanted and not at all what he needed. More recently, he hadn’t even been spending much time with her because he despised how she would scold him for being himself in public.

She threw her hands down and her head against the back of the chair. Their marriage of three years had been falling apart. She blamed him. Over time, he had become more immature. He was changing. He wasn’t caring about how she felt and went out without her all the time. The bruises on her ribs were proof of how much he had changed.

Sarah stood, setting the file on the table, and stepped forward to leave the room. James caught her arm. Pain palpated through her body as the shock sent her heart into overdrive. She turned her head away instinctively only to be pulled back roughly. The hand on her chin would leave bruises; she was running low on makeup. The anger seethed from his eyes. She hoped he would not see the fear in hers. She would be meeting her mother this weekend, he knew that. He wouldn’t hit her before then, would he?

“Sarah,” he hissed between clenched teeth and a clenched fist. “dance with me. Just this once.”

She huffed, standing her ground, “No.”

If there was anything she had learned over the last three years, it was that even if she complied, he would find something wrong with her. Her steps were wrong, she wasn’t holding onto him tight enough, she wasn’t smiling as much as he was. Every night like this one ended in her getting hurt and him instantly regretting hurting her, but he never apologized. He never looked back. It was as if the only one he was sorry for was himself for getting onto one knee three years ago.

“Please, Sarah, just once. Three years of us and all I want is one dance.”

She tried to pull herself away from him. The tourniquet hand on her arm tightened and she could feel her pulse in her arm. She wondered if he felt it, too. She hoped he felt it. She hoped he would have mercy on a living thing. In her fear, she pushed out her pride and spoke in a clean and clear voice: “No, James.”

The quick sting of a slap silenced Coltrane’s voice. It rang in her ears. The burning memory of it remained in red on her cheek. One.

“Sarah.”

“No!”

The black and blue fingerprints on her arm would be easy to hide under a cardigan, right? Or would her mother question it again? A cardigan in seventy degree weather? Two.

“Sarah! Just one!”

“Let go of me!”

The quick release was a momentary relief before the deepening shock of the impact knocked her breath away. She sucked in, trying to keep the air in her lungs. He would not suffocate her, not again. Three.

Too late for her, as he used her life to revive the purple bruises on her ribs. She clasped his hand to the crater below her chest. She felt his hand stoften from a rigid fist into a caressing hand. He reached around her body to break her fall. Helping her land, he stood once she was safely on the ground. His destructive hands raked through his hair and he cursed himself.

“Don’t you dare cry,” he spat more to himself than to her. His eyes met hers as she looked up at him. Her hiccups leaked. She was trying to not cry. His demeanor changed back with dragon’s breath. “Stop crying!”

He struck her one last time, sending her backwards. She would need makeup this time. The red mark on her cheek was already turning purple. She caught herself on the doorframe. She said nothing to stop him as he tore through the house, seeking solace in his lonely office.

James did not return to check on his wife. She had dragged herself into their bedroom, silently crying to herself on their bed. He would not suffocate her, but she would drown herself. She fell asleep in a salty puddle of self-pity, praying for her savior to take her away. James’s heavy footsteps continued pacing for most of the night. He could not continue to hurt her.

Sarah woke in an empty bed to a quiet house. The smell of burnt toast still lingered. The smooth voice of Billie Holiday urged her out of bed, calling for her to shut off the radio. She rolled out of bed, her breath hitching when she felt the sore spots on her body cry out for relief. Standing, she slipped on shoes and a warm robe and ignored her pain. Her ears’ hurt was her first order of business. Anything to get James further away from her.

She shut the radio off, returning the house to total silence. She let herself relax in herself. Walking to the powder room, she noticed James’s office door cracked open. The urge to take a peek overwhelmed her and she took the creaky steps in its direction. Upon opening the door, dusty air greeted her and thanked her for releasing it unto the rest of the house. She wasn’t allowed in the office, thus she never got the chance to clean it.

Her attention turned to the sofa, a dark and sagging old thing with a tousled blanket and dishevelled pillow expressing a longing for its missing nighttime guest. James had left earlier that morning, obviously in a rush as everything was simply tossed about. The desk was decorated with a tattered tablecloth of crumpled business documents and the sole chair behind it had a fading finish from so many years of use. James had built his business from the bottom up; Sarah was fairly sure the chair was a remnant from his days of poverty long before they met. She closed the door of the room with a sigh as the phone rang.

Her ears perked up and she hoped it was a call from her savior. She almost tripped over herself sprinting to answer it.

“Hughes residence, this is Sarah speaking, how may I help you?” she chimed in her secretary voice from the days when she worked for James’s company as a receptionist.

The name ‘Hughes’ does not suit you. You would be better off answering the Russell residence’s phone, my dear, the voice of her lover and savior effortlessly melted her heart.

“Kade! Dear, I told you not to call me at home!” she chided with a smile, twisting the phone line around her fingers.

You were late to the payphone meeting. I just took initiative to check if you were still going to be available for lunch at 12:30.

“As if I would miss it, dear. I will be there.”

After hanging up, Sarah hurried to the powder room and stripped herself of yesterday’s clothes of which she had neglected to change after the fight. The water ran cold down her spine and soapy in her hair. She scrubbed, doubling over in pain when she ran her washcloth over her new wounds. After toweling dry, she proceeded to find a lovely pastel pink dress and her favorite white shoes and dress herself very nicely. A simple white shawl covered the bruises on her arms and caked-on makeup hid her darkened cheek. She paused to look in the mirror as she powdered her nose and wondered why she was doing this. The sadness in her eyes convinced her: she was doing this because she wanted to be happy.

She arrived on time. Kade was always two minutes early and she met him at the door. He greeted her with a gentle kiss on her cheek. It stung from last night’s battle, reminding her that she was still married but would be happier without her husband.

Their lunch was lovely, quiet, and without a single raised voice. There was no arguing, only laughter and smiles. Every second she was with Kade was heavenly. If only she had met him a year earlier, before she married James and ruined her life.

Kade walked her around town that afternoon, talking with her about how much he enjoyed lunch. She smiled and held his hand.

“Kade, love?”

“Yes, Sarah?” His voice was deep and calming. She loved to hear him talk.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if we could be together? Without worrying about James an--”

He stopped her, “Sarah, I think about you every day. I worry for you every day. It’s been a year and a half since we began seeing each other and every day, I want to be with you more and more. I want to keep you safe.”

Sarah looked away, ashamed. She thought about how James had hit her just the night before. Kade put his arm around her and she flinched. His fingertips grazed her polka-dotted bruises.

“You think I don’t know what he’s done to you, Sarah? No one would wear a cover in this weather,” he said grimly, pulling back at the fabric to expose her injuries. “I don’t see why you stay with him. I get it, he’s a CEO, but so am I! We may be successful, but a woman won’t define us in the business world. You can’t tell me you still worry about his image.”

“I-”

“Sarah, be honest. Do you still care about him?”

“No, Kade,” she said, looking away from him. She wasn’t completely lying. Some days she held out hope, others she prayed for her freedom. Kade stopped her before they reached his car.

“Sarah. I love you. I need to know if you love me, too.”

“I love you, Kade.”

He squeezed her hand, affirming their connection, and opened the car door for her before taking her home. The whole way home, Sarah stared forward, afraid of herself. She was a married woman declaring her love to another man. Her heart thumped in her chest, pounding out the shame she felt as she invited Kade into her husband’s home. The silence and stillness of the house offered no place to hide the sound of her heartbeat. Each bump in her chest seemed to call her a whore, over and over again.

Whore! Whore! How dare you break your marriage over your feelings!

The pounding of her heart fell into rhythm with her act of betrayal. She clenched her teeth and her fists as James had done the night before, abusing her guilt with the act of noise making. She screamed with pleasure, determined to fill the house with sounds unheard of. Her bare body quivered, whether with newfound strength or with long-held shame, she was not sure, nor did she care to find out. Kade left her there, kissing her goodbye more passionately that James would ever kiss her hello.

Wrapped only in her robe, she began to clean the house of all evidence of its trespasser and return it to the empty silence once more. Only her thundering heart reminded her of what she had done.

That evening the phone rang again.

“Hughes residence, this is Sarah, how may I help you?”

The voice sent chills down her spine, “Sarah, sweetheart, it’s James.”

“Yes, dear?” she tried to keep herself from sounding fearful and worried. Did he know? He never called.

“Could you get ready? I get off work at six and have a surprise for you.”

“Ready?”

“I’ll pick you up as soon as I get home. Dress nicely, please.” He hung up. This was new. This never happened. James never called when he was at work. He never checked in on her. She rushed to get dressed in nicer clothes; a fine black dress and heels should do. James liked black, right? Oh, how she wished she could’ve seen the color of his tie this morning so she could match him like a good wife would. What would he do to her if she wasn’t dressed nice enough? She didn’t want to know.

James was five minutes late. Upon his arrival, Sarah stood from her place by the parlor window and hurried to get outside to the car. James greeted her, stepping out to open the door for her. While this unusual event occurred, he was apologizing profusely for being late. She furrowed her brow with concern. Why was he acting so different?

That evening they went to dinner at a restaurant that was only available by reservation. She was taken aback. The two hadn’t gone on a date in years. James pulled out chairs for her and ordered fine wine for the both of them. He was going all out that evening. Sarah enjoyed her food and for a moment, everything was perfect. They even laughed together. It was just like old times.

“Sarah, my love,” James started, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “We need to have a serious talk.”

She gulped and shifted uncomfortably. What if all this was to throw her off? What if he knew and was going to hurt her?

“Yes, James?”

“I need to apologize,” he sighed, clasping his hands together and letting them rest on the table. “We’ve been married for three years. In that time, I realize I’ve become a horrible husband. I’m consumed with work and take out my frustrations on you. You don’t deserve a life like this.”

She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, taking her fork in her hand and cutting into the greens she had been served.

“I want to do better. From here on out, I promise to never hurt you again. I want to be the husband I should have been this whole time.”

Taken aback, Sarah set down her fork and reached a hand out to him. He placed his in hers. A sad smile splayed across her face. James knew this was the right course of action. He still loved her and he hoped she still loved him.

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight, by the way,” he finished, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek. He would never lay a hand on her again.

The next few months went on peacefully. Sarah, now with comfort that the battles were over, spent more and more time with James. He would take her to fancy events and buy her fine gifts. She was more willing to be with him. At one point, she even stood to dance with him when he put on a record of one of her favorite artists. The pair slowly grew closer.

Sarah caught herself many times almost telling him she loved him. How could she if she had declared her love for another man? But James was her husband! Kade called thrice a week, asking to see her, but she found herself turning him away as her loyalty to her husband grew. Kade began to fret.

As they had been seeing each other for the last year and a half, Kade had grown fond of Sarah, interlacing her into every detail in his life. She was a beautiful woman, a perfect housewife, and the ultimate weapon to combat his greatest business rival: James Hughes. Kade’s infatuation with his control over the market extended into personal lives now, just as he had extended himself into Sarah’s bed when James was not around. Their affair had led him to believe they loved each other.

They did love each other.

James, deciding to take a night to himself, kissed Sarah goodbye that evening, leaving her to her own antics in the home: a hot bath accompanied by Elvis’s boisterous voice. He left in his car, unaware of the eyes trailing behind him.

His guilty pleasure had become car rides; these were the only times he found himself able to listen to his own favorite records. Coltrane played over the jazz radio, his voice once more calming him and preparing him for some of his own R&R time. He tapped the steering wheel along with the beat. All through his mind was either work or Sarah. His hands tightened on the wheel. He had made it this long putting up with her behavior, but he wondered if he could last much longer.

James had decided to take this time to himself at a bar, specifically the one with the bartender he loved to talk to. Sitting on a creaky barstool, he waved at the man behind the bar. The man, a spitting image of their father, smiled back with a toothpick in his grin.

“Jimmy! Whatcha doin’ ‘round here? Thought the ol’ wife was keepin’ ya home these days,” he said while uncapping a beer for his older brother. He offered James a smoke from the pack hidden away in his back pocket and leaned against the bar. James politely turned it down.

“Nathaniel, I’m just here for a drink. Didn’t Ma tell you to quit smoking? It makes you stink,” James sipped his beer. Nathaniel rolled his eyes in mockery.

“Ya sound jus’ like ‘er, Jim.”

“And you sound like Dad,” James smiled. “Where’s that doll you had hanging around you last week?”

“Bah, she’s prolly off with some foreign guy. Left Saturday night and I ain’t seen ‘er since. Not like she matta’d anyways,” Nathaniel paused to serve another customer. By the time he returned, James’s beer bottle was empty. “Man, Jimmy, you ain’t never finished a beer before. What’s gott’n inta ya?”

“Sarah wants kids, Nate. Gimme another, wontcha?”

Nathaniel opened a second bottle of beer, but not before taking James’s keys. They agreed that he would stay with Nathaniel tonight.

“Why’s that s’bad, man? Ya’ve been togetha three years now, time to start a family! Sure woulda made Ma happy, God rest ‘er soul.”

James was about to speak when Nathaniel paused again to serve the customer another round. While waiting for his brother to come back, he drank, letting himself relax into himself. Pop, tap, three down. Pop, tap, four down. Pop, tap, five down. James slipped into a drunken state. Nathaniel was glad he had agreed to take his brother home; he knew Sarah would be grateful.

James felt a hand on his shoulder. It clamped down, and James slapped it away.

“Mind your own business, man.”

“I can’t mind my own business when it’s yours, too.” Kade tossed back the shot Nathaniel had just given him. James stood.

“I don’t even know you, boy,” he said, setting his empty bottle on the countertop. Nathaniel grabbed it and moved it, realizing that his brother was buzzed. He went around the bar, putting a hand on James’s arm.

“Ask your wife, she’ll tell you. She knows me quite well,” Kade jeered trying to provoke James. Wild thoughts ran through his head, each fueled by alcoholic possessiveness. He must have Sarah. He must have Sarah. He must have Sarah.

He must have Sarah.

James held still. Nathaniel didn’t notice his brother’s hand forming a pernicious fist.

“What do you mean by that, boy?” he said, simmering in rage. Nathaniel knew James did not like being disrespected. Nor did he like anyone disrespecting his personal life.

“Go on home to Sarah and ask her! And send her my regards while you’re at it!”

James exploded at his wife’s name. A swing and a miss. Kade did not miss. The sharp pain in James’s jaw fueled the fire in his bones. He picked himself back up, the room in a dizzy blur. All of his force went into shoving Kade into a table. Shattering glass cut James’s palms as he fell, Kade beneath him. He threw punch after punch, burning hatred as fuel. Nathaniel’s cold hands pried James away.

James tuned out Nathaniel’s scolding all the way home. It didn’t matter anyways. None of this mattered. He just wanted to get home and get to sleep. He just wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

Nathaniel carried him up the porch stairs of the house. James rested his weight on his brother’s shoulder. He could hear voices. Sarah’s voice. Sarah. She sounded worried. Why was she worried? Nathaniel’s voice. He sounded distressed. Why was he distressed? Was it because he had broken some dishware at the bar? He would pay for it. No worries.

No worries.

James woke up the next morning, a headache incoming. He was in his own bed, wearing the same clothes from the night before. The bed was empty, but the smell of breakfast wafted in from the kitchen. Sarah must already be up. What time was it? He wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter.

He stood, rubbing his temples. The wooden floor sent chills through his toes running up his spine. He stumbled to the bathroom and fidgeted with the shower until cold water gave him a rude awakening. He freshened up, but as he did so, the smell of bacon and eggs had slowly faded and not a single footstep had made its way through the house.

The kitchen was empty other than a lonesome plate of eggs and bacon. A pot of coffee gone cold sat next to an empty mug. The morning mail laid on the table next to these and on top of the stack of white letters was a note decorated with Sarah’s handwriting.

Nathaniel brought you home last night and told me what happened. I thought you had changed, James, but you’re exactly the same. I will be spending some time with my sister. I’ll phone you when I’m ready to come home. Until then, don’t come looking for me.

James’s heart skipped a beat. Sarah. She was gone. He did not eat that morning. Instead, he went back to bed where he fell asleep and prayed he would wake to the perfect world in which Sarah was next to him and he didn’t have a care in the world.

Two weeks later, James played Coltrane to keep him company in an empty house. The sunset had come and gone, leaving him to a darkness broken only by a single lamp in the parlor. The cigarette between his fingers gave off a pale stream of smoke. He had promised himself he would never smoke, but it had become so enticing once Sarah had gone. He enjoyed it. He let it get to his head.

Headlights poured into the parlor window, replacing the eerie green light from his neighbors' lanterns. He turned his head away instinctively and raised his hand to his lips, letting the smoke poison his lungs. A light-handed knock at the door forced him to stand and walk into the foyer. He cracked the door open to see the dark hair and pale skin of the finely dressed woman. She looked up at him and smiled with glossy red lips.

“My love,” he said quietly, his eyes widening. “My Sarah, you came back!”

He swung the door open and put his arms around her, engulfing her with his love and guiding her into their home. He led her to the parlor where Coltrane’s voice serenaded them with tales of fools for beauty. Setting his cigarette in the new ashtray, he ignored Sarah’s attempt at forming words and the glint of sadness in her eyes and the creaking of floorboards from the hall.

“Jame--”

“Shh, shh, darling, please hold my hand. One hand on my shoulder,” he instructed, placing a hand on her waist and guiding her into a gentle waltz. He did not notice her shutting her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder as a single tear slipped away. He did not notice the quiet footsteps of a man entering the parlor door. He did not notice the flash of the butcher knife from his own kitchen.

“James, I--”

“Sarah, please, just enjoy this time wi--”

James’s words were cut short as Kade backed away, now empty handed. He tensed his arms, trying to hold onto his wife for dear life as the shocking pain radiated throughout his body. Slowly, he fell to his knees, releasing Sarah from his grasp. He looked at her with hurt eyes as she let him go.

“James, I tried to warn you.”

Kade reached an arm out to Sarah, helping her step over her dead husband. They paused a moment, taking in what they had just done. She reached up to wipe away the trail her single tear had left on her cheek and played it off as she reached out to grab the cigarette in the ashtray.

“You’re free now, Sarah. You’re free and you can be mine forever. We can be together now,” Kade put an arm around Sarah’s shoulder as she took a puff of the cigarette. She looked at him.

“I guess I am now. I am free,” she looked at the unmoving body of her ex-husband lying on the floor. She felt sick to her stomach. Something wasn’t right, but she wouldn’t--she couldn’t tell Kade.

Instead, she turned to the radio, raising the volume until Coltrane’s voice became deafening. Together, they walked out into the night, trailing pale smoke and foolish beauty behind them.