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Chapter One
Kelly looked at the creamy wedding gown, which lay crumpled up, lying on the living room floor where she had stripped it off. It looked forlorn and rejected, just like she felt inside. The lace and silk felt rough and spoiled against her fingers and she longed to tear up the garment, to get rid of it forever, as though the very presence of it was poisoning her house, her life.
Jake’s betrayal was still fresh - it cut through her heart like a knife and she almost doubled over with the remembered pain slashing inside her chest, but instead she straightened her shoulders, flicked her dramatic red hair over her shoulder and determinedly walked towards her wedding dress, looking down on what remained of her big day.
She pictured herself in it, laughing and giddily happy waiting for him to arrive at the church, and she felt like a fool. Maybe she had deserved this; if she was honest with herself, she knew she had forced him into marrying her, but surely that had been for his own good – for the good of both of them, right?
Kelly had met Jake in high school and they had been inseparable ever since. They had done all the traditional things – the graduation photos, the vacation together and even losing their respective virginities to one another.
As time went on, and they got older, Kelly began to wonder if and when she was to move in with Jake, to share his life and become his wife, maybe even become the mother of his children. But time marched on and at twenty eight years old, Kelly had finally realized that he had no intentions of proposing to her - not in the near future, and maybe not at all. So she had done what she had thought was the perfect solution. She gave Jake an ultimatum; either marry her or let her go.
His answer had come instantly, desperately: he wanted to marry her. He had taken hold of her hands and looked into her eyes as he said so. And like a chump, she had believed him. But, now as she thought over it, she knew he had just done what was right after 10 long years in a relationship with her. It was a pity he had failed to show up at their wedding and sent her a text instead. She remembered the words perfectly; they were etched into her brain, as they were permanently saved into her phone. She daren’t erase the message, as if saving it would somehow make it all better again.
I’m sorry Kelly, I can’t marry you. You deserve better than a man who can’t stop thinking if this is the right thing to do.
Kelly grit her teeth, strode towards the dress and picked it up roughly, glaring at it as though it was a bad man; keeping it away from her as if it was something dirty and filthy. Striding into her back yard, she shoved the dress into the abandoned stainless steel bathtub her father had intended to grow flowers in, once upon a time. Kelly looked at the dress, laying so stupidly in the grey bathtub, looking like the epitome of bad taste.
She screwed up her face into a dignified expression of disgust. Humiliation washed over her as she hoped no one was looking out of their windows to see her final embarrassment. How foolish she must have seemed to all of those guests. How pathetic, to be standing there in white lace and silk, with no groom to marry. Those whispers had carried thtough the church, those ‘poor thing’s and those ‘such a waste’s. She loathed every single one of them, and wanted the whole day to be erased from time.
The red-haired young woman strode into the dingy, ill-lit kitchen and grabbed the dented tin of lighter fluid, used only for barbecues, from the cupboard under the sink, along with a box of matches. Marching, almost running back to the bathtub in the garden, she sprayed the lighter fluid all over the repelling dress, and without a second thought, threw a lighted match stick onto it. $2500 of lace ignited and she crumpled into a heap on the ground, inconsolable as she cried her eyes out. Tears streamed down her face, and she sobbed aloud like a child. As the dress quickly burned into nothing, she gained control and got up to watch it. The flames did not leap high – there wasn’t enough fabric for that, instead it curled and burned slowly like a body on a funeral pyre. It was fitting. It was the death of her dreams, after all.
As the dress became nothing more than a heap of smoldering ash, Kelly felt she felt lighter, refreshed. She took herself back indoors and went to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, looking at her youthful complexion, honed with those facials and exercise in the lead-up to her wedding. She knew what she wanted, and it didn’t lie in the cold emptiness of her house. The young woman nodded at herself and went into her bedroom.
The phone on her nightstand flashed as it rang silently. Kelly had disabled the ringer since the calls started coming in, but even silently, it was still ringing, it just wouldn’t’t stop. Her family just could not see why she wanted to be alone and they kept on calling to try and console her. She was done talking to them. She had heard enough after the wedding that never was. She wanted something else, something new.
She put on a new black dress from her cupboard which was meant for her honeymoon and applied makeup diligently to her face. Tying her hair up, she left the house, her heels clicking against the wood floor.
Chapter Two
She took a taxi into town and allowed her frantic mind to go blank for the journey. She needed the silence, the peace, the calm before the storm. She paid the driver and ,arched towards her old haunt – Santiago’s – once the hottest club in town, but now reduced to a second rate venue full of students and older women. But right now, she needed a place of memories – where she danced before all of this happened.
The club was half empty but she didn’t care, all she wanted was to drink and dance and moment after entering the club, she was getting both in unlimited amounts. She had always been pretty good at holding her liqueur and she now made the most of that ability. She turned around to watch the few dancers there were, and a tall man in a white crisp shirt and black pants caught her eye. Instantly, she felt drawn; she knew that was the answer to that nagging feeling. That was truly what she wanted to do. She wanted to be fucked senseless, by a stranger, by this stranger, by anyone who would give her pleasure.
Jake had been the only man who ever touched her. She had always bragged that she had only ever known her boyfriend, her fiancé, her husband-to-be, but what a waste of her youth that had been. And she no longer wanted Jake to be that special man – the only one to have penetrated her. She wanted to let loose and lose her mind to new pleasures.
A stranger was perfect, it added to the thrill. She could imagine herself naked under his body, his unknown physical attributes thrilling her senses as she explored his assets. She walked straight to him; he wasn’t dancing, but was just standing on the sidelines watching with a glass of something that looked like fruit juice in his hand.
“Hello”, she said in the sexiest voice she could summon and he turned around in surprise. A smile flashed across his face, adding to his allure. He was pretty damn good looking; his eyes a piercing grey, his teeth perfect and even.
“Hey”, he replied, extending his hand, “I’m Scott”.
“Kelly”, she said, shaking his hand. “Are you married Scott?” she asked boldly, the alcohol was getting to her more than she thought, but she had to know. She had had one marriage wrecked that week, she wasn’t going to add another to her list.
He chuckled at the sudden bold question, “No, I’m not married”.
“Girlfriend?” she asked and the man’s eyebrows shot up, and he grinned.
“Girlfriend, well kind of,” he downed his drink and looked the woman up and down appreciatingly to make his point. Kelly’s skin crawled a little, but right now, a handsome stranger was her best shot at an orgasm that night.
Kelly pursed her lips, digesting and considering the information and planning in her head if her place would be a good idea. Her mom might show up there, she knew, but she could just disconnect the doorbell. She didn’t fancy around the back alley of the club, and the restrooms just seemed too gross to even consider. Still, there was something delicious about fucking a stranger in the bed she had once been fucked in by her fiancé.
