Plain Gold Ring Pt. 02

June senses Maggie wants to douse some ice-cold water of wisdom on her and it's the last thing she wants right now.

"He's married, June," Maggie says softly, ignoring June's plea. June doesn't correct her assumption, and Maggie wouldn't have believed her if she had. "I don't care if she's cheating on him. If he says they're through. He loved that woman for years. This is not a situation you want to get mixed up with. He can't give you what you need right now. As a matter of fact, I have a strong feeling he's going to break your heart before this is—"

"Okay, you've said what you want," June says snottily, "now please leave me alone. I'll skip class if I want to. I'll fuck John if I want to. If you really have such a huge fucking problem with it then I'll figure out a way to rent an apartment and you won't have to bother seeing me."

June slips out of bed wearing only underwear and a faded t-shirt. She pulls on some shorts and throws a glare at her aunt. "You're worried I'm acting like my mother, aren't you? That I'm going to become her. Aren't you?"

Maggie's crying and it rips June's heart but she can't think clearly. She's so mad and she's feeling too many things at once.

Her aunt wipes some tears away and struggles to stand. When she's on her two feet, she shakes her head. "I would never throw you out. The thought never crossed my mind. And no, I don't think you're becoming your mother at all."

Maggie heads for the door, but she says one last thing before leaving. "I'm not questioning your morals or your feelings or your actions. I don't care what you do. I'll always love you. I'm just worried for you. Just try... Just try to remember to keep your feet on the ground. That's all I wanted to say."

John wakes up with a hangover. He stumbles out of bed and tosses some ibuprofen down his throat. It always takes him a bit to wake up, so it isn't until he's making his coffee that he thinks of Melissa. And June.

When he sits down at the kitchen table, he marvels at how Melissa is painted over everything in the house. Every knick-knack, every picture frame... he looks down at his mug and even that is something purchased by his wife. It's a novelty mug that says "Coffee Makes Me Shit". It made him laugh every time he used it, and she'd smile over at him knowing he was snorting because of it. One of their thousands of private jokes. None of it meant anything to her.

Now he eats breakfast alone. He picks at his English muffin and wonders what she's doing. Melissa. Where is she staying? She has a lot of friends but he wonders what they think of what she's done. Perhaps she lied to them. Or maybe she told the truth and they don't care. He's always thought a few of her friends were snotty bitches. They probably encouraged her while she fucked the vet.

Ray. Raymond Griffin. John's blood boils when he thinks of him, that tall, thin fucker. He is so ugly that John doesn't get it. He's tan and worn-looking. The times he's met him—at office parties, dropping something off for Mel at work—he reeked of cigarette smoke. He can't figure out the draw. Melissa cannot possibly love Ray. It doesn't compute in John's mind. So was Melissa bored? Was Ray that charming? Or was she that cruel a person to just do it for the fun of it?

It's a sobering and horrifying feeling to realize she never loved him. Even if she felt affection for him over the years, it must be gone now. You don't do this to someone you care for.

Then John thinks of June. Those thoughts are far more pleasant. She's so sweet and young. She smells like lilies and fresh laundry. Clean. She's a blank slate. It makes him hopeful.

Sometimes it's hard for him to remember she's not just a lip-gloss-wearing fantasy. She's a young woman, a whole person. A kind person. Last night he wanted to learn everything he could about her.

He still feels that way, but things look different in daylight.

John feels guilty. He feels like he took advantage of her. She came over to apologize and he mauled her. She didn't say no because she wanted him, too—he at least knows that—but it doesn't change the fact that he used her. He felt miserable and he used her to feel good. He fucked her outside—against the house, for God's sake.

Still...it was phenomenal. He doesn't remember coming like that ever. She was so lit up for him, as frenzied and passionate as he was. It was explosive.

Just thinking about it makes his cock pulse.

He wants to see her again. He wants her. He wants to touch her soft skin and smell her hair. Silly, simple things, but it's true. He wants to bury himself into her until they are both sticky messes. But he doesn't have her number, and even if he did, he can't shake the shame. He feels downright sleazy. He knows their age difference isn't insurmountable, but it's where they are in their lives. He's facing divorce. She's facing graduation.

John takes his coffee and walks to the window, watching her house. He wonders with horror and embarrassment if Maggie knows. She is a great woman and they've always gotten along...but she watched him closely back in the day. He could feel her eyes on him when June crossed the street for tutoring sessions. She made it clear that she was present; she wasn't some distant and distracted parent. And maybe she sensed something—both his and June's potential to come together like that—and was determined to protect her.

Maggie would hate him if she knew.

Then John figures he's kidding himself; of course she knows. Then that means Sam knows. Would he come to kick his ass? John probably deserves it.

Would June come over? He wants her to. He'll take her up to bed and he'll do things to her she might never have experienced before. He'll drag her further into the web of his life, which is currently a disaster, because he's selfish. He's spent years deferring to Melissa. Now he feels like doing everything he wants to do, regardless of the repercussions, just like a little kid.

June doesn't deserve to be embroiled in this mess. And yet...

John keeps his eyes on the house. Hoping. Dreading. Wanting. Fearing.

_____________________________

A few hours later his buddy Mike calls. John's been dodging calls since the whole shit-storm blew up. He can't hide forever.

"Hey."

"Yo! Where you been? Anthony said he called you, like, fifty times the other night."

John clears his throat. "Things haven't been...Melissa and I are splitting up."

Mike doesn't say anything at first. Then he says, "Sorry. That's rough, man. I'm sorry."

"She cheated on me," John confesses. "With her boss."

"No way. I can't believe it."

"You can't?" John asks, knowing that almost everyone saw through his wife but him.

"She seemed, uh, really dedicated and—"

"Fuck it. What's going on? Want to get drunk later?"

Mike laughs. "Yeah. We were gonna go play basketball. Meet us there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there."

After John disconnects, he thinks hanging out with his friends is the last thing he feels like doing. It's still better than staring at June's house like a complete creep.

He meets up with the guys and he can tell by their expressions that Mike told them everything. He doesn't care. He's actually grateful that he's been spared telling the story over and over to each guy.

They play until the sun sets. They are sweaty and gross but they pop into the bar on the corner. The bartender is a cute girl and a couple of the guys flirt with her. The radio station they play through the speakers is terrible, but it's what you'd expect here. The floor is sticky, too.

It dawns on John he hasn't done this in a long time. He was constantly wrapped up with Melissa, running here or there with her.

He loves the sticky floor and the baseball game on the TV—even though his team is losing—and his friends getting rowdy and the girl cracking gum behind the bar.

Mike corners him later. "You tell your parents?"

John finishes his beer before answering. "No, not yet."

"You should probably tell them soon." Mike plays with a coaster. "I used to think Melissa was beautiful. I never paid attention to how bitchy she could be until Natalie told me a story about her being a bitch to someone's wife. I forget who. Natalie would tell me all the time Melissa made her skin crawl." He looks up and starts apologizing. "Sorry, man, I didn't mean to say—"

"I was blind. Completely blind." He laughs but it's not very funny to him at all. "Amazing how blind you can be when it comes to a pretty woman, when you love her. I should have known, really. I should have seen. That's the worst part. Knowing it went on right under my nose and I didn't see."

"You need pussy. Wanna go to a strip club?"

John laughs. "No. That sounds terrible."

"Jesus," Mike says with awe, "she really did break you."

"Funny." John signals for another beer. "The thought of it literally exhausts me."

"Well, find someone to hook up with. The bartender isn't bad. She's got nice tits. Move in fast, though, because Ben is seriously working her." John laughs again but Mike continues gravely, as if they're talking about something far more critical than John's need to get laid. "You need to have sex. Lots of it. Nasty sex. It won't make it better but at least you'll be having sex."

Something must've flit across John's expression because Mike gives him a slow grin.

"Holy shit!" Mike exclaims, laughing as he talks. "You fucked someone already. Good for you. Never thought you had it in you."

"Fuck you." John rubs the back of his neck and wonders if he should even be talking about this. Mike is a teacher, too. He might think it is seriously inappropriate that John fucked the girl across the streetwho is a little bit more than a decade younger than him, who he also used to tutor.

Mike laughs, but when he's finished he knocks on the bar. "Tell me. Who, and the details. You owe it to me."

"I didn't fuck anyone."

"You're a liar," Mike immediately shoots back. "Who?!"

"The girl across the street," he says in a rush.

Mike rubs his jaw and thinks. Their town isn't that small, but it isn't that large, either. John might've even mentioned June over the years. Who knows.

"What's her name?"

"C'mon, Mike."

"And what do you mean by "girl"? Is she, like, of age and everything?" Mike studies John carefully.

"Her name is June, and yes, she's of age. Jesus Christ." John wipes some sweat away from his forehead and shifts his feet on the sticky floor.

Mike's eyes widen with recognition. "June Silva? Sam Patterson's niece?"

Mike voice has grown in volume and John shushes him. "You know him?"

"Yeah. He's my mechanic. He's a great guy." Mike's eyes examine John's face. "What are you doing with her?"

The bartender leaves his beer in front of him with a smile. When she walks away, he explains. "We always had an attraction. It boiled over when she knew Mel had left."

"Dude, Sam's a nice guy and he says June is practically a saint."

John recalls their night together and he definitely wouldn't refer to her as a saint. A small grin crosses his face; Mike catches it.

"I hope you're not fucking around with her. It makes me feel bad she's the rebound girl. Seriously, you should fuck the bartender instead." Mike tosses some money on the bar as a tip and moves off the stool. "She's been smiling at you all night."

"June's not a rebound."

Mike shrugs his shoulders. "Then what is she?"

John chugs some of his drink and then stares at the glass. "I haven't figured that out yet."

A little while later someone drops him off at his house (thank God, since he is very drunk). He gets out of the car and after it speeds off he looks at June's house. He wants to knock on the door and drag her out by her ankle. He wants to do unspeakable things to her body, force her to make primal noises, come inside her until he can't see.

But he knows he needs to stay away for a bit, and that more than anything, he needs his bed.

She speeds over to the house, sipping hot coffee. A car honks at her when she cuts him off. She thrusts her middle finger out the window.

Then she's on that old familiar block, pulling up to the house she's lived in for years. She remembers the day they bought it. John was so excited that he attacked her on the stairs.

As she gets out of the car, Melissa wonders if his anger has dimmed. She knows she has a big mountain to climb.

For some reason, she glances back at June Silva's house. Of course the bitch is outside. June stands on her lawn with her dog, gazing at Melissa with a strange expression. Melissa can't decipher it, and she doesn't care at the moment.

She uses her key to unlock the door and sweeps into the house. John stands near the window, arms folded. So he'd watched her.

"Hi," she says briskly. She runs upstairs without waiting for his reaction and gathers the last of her things, a bit of a smile toying with her lips.

John won't be able to handle her not paying a little attention to him. In spite of everything, she knows he won't be able to stand her throwing him a mere "hi".

Not long after, she feels his presence at the bedroom door and fights back her grin.

"We need to talk," John announces. Melissa stays silent. "You didn't clear coming today with me. I thought we agreed you'd call before."

She sighs. "Yes, yes, I know. I'm sorry. I was just in the neighborhood."

She turns so they are face-to-face. His is carefully wiped of any emotion, but she can tell by how tightly he's holding his body that he's restraining himself.

"I know we left each other on bad terms," she begins. She looks down at her hands for effect, trying to appear contrite and weak. "I was caught off guard. I didn't know how to stop with Ray. I'm not proud of it. It just kept on and...I know my original excuse was disgusting. I'm sorry. I panicked."

"Melissa, I don't want to get into this right now." John rubs his eyes. He's hungover, she realizes. Ha!

She takes a step closer to him. She's testing the emotional temperature of the room. He's furious. He's wounded. He might just be dumb and act impulsively. Strangely, she hopes he will. Sex with him is usually not dull, and the way he's looking at her is plucking a warped chord of desire inside her.

"I love you. I was an idiot." Melissa moves nearer. She runs a hand through her hair and pulls it down over one shoulder. She knows he loves her hair. "I really mean it. I know I've been—"

"Shut up!" he bursts out.

"We were good together, John. You know that. We are good at being married to each other."

"I was a schmuck you bided your time with." His eyes narrow. "I see it now. This conversation is futile."

"John. I swear I'll stop seeing him."

A smile twists across his face. "Don't beg, Melissa. Doesn't become you."

He doesn't stop her when her hands touch his shoulders. "Do you want me to beg? I'm good at begging. I'll beg on my knees if I have to."

"For what? To stay married to me? You don't want to stay married to me."

"I do." She presses her cheek against his shoulder. He might not realize it, but his arms are automatically wrapping around her waist. "What can I do to convince you?"

He doesn't answer. She pulls back a few minutes later. His eyes are stormy and furious. If Melissa didn't know him all these years, she might have been afraid of him. Her eyes roam down and she spots something on his neck. Her hand snaps up and pushes his shirt over.

"A hickey," she proclaims. Her eyes move to his. "Interesting."

She doesn't have to guess who gave it to him. She would have been worried if she saw it when she first came in, but now it means nothing. He's responding to her and he doesn't even know it.

"Get your shit and get out." John isn't afraid of her, either. She finds him very interesting for the first time in a long, long time. "I'm serious."

Her hand slips down his body and runs over his stomach. There is a loaded silence. Then she grabs his cock. His weight shifts a little but he doesn't push her away.

"Take off your pants," she orders, licking her lips.

He hesitates. Everything inside of her is ready to rejoice. She jacks him off through his shorts even harder, hoping that'll force him over the edge and he'll be too turned on to fight her. He's getting hard.

John moves out of her grasp and takes a few steps away, turning his back to her. "God, I want to. I really want to. You're the fucking devil."

"Baby," Melissa whispers. "You know I can give you what you want. Come back here and take off your clothes with me. Let's get on the bed. We can just rest there together. Wouldn't you like that?"

"No."

He sounds like such a little boy that she can't fight her smile. She crosses the room over to him and grasps his arm. He rips it from her and gives her the nastiest look she's ever seen on his face.

For the first time, she actually is afraid of him. The thought makes her want to give an astonished laugh. Afraid of John? Karen would die.

But she is. She wisely keeps her hands to himself.

He takes a deep breath and burns his eyes into hers. "I may be confused. I may still feel things for you that only an idiot would fucking feel. Maybe I am an idiot. You certainly seem to think so. But I'd rather have Satan himself come up from hell and fuck me in the ass before I ever let my dick near any of your holes."

Melissa takes a shaky breath.

"Now get your shit together. Don't make me ask you again."

He is nearly gone before she manages to call his name. He stalks back into the bedroom and looks her over.

"What?"

"I'll tell everyone about you and June."

He snorts. "Give me a break."

"I'll tell people the two of you were fucking when she was in high school. When you tutored her."

John stands still.

"I'll say I caught you and you begged me not to tell. I'll say I caught you two again and that made me cheat. I'll be a goddamn saint next to you. You might even lose your job."

He sits on the bed and cracks up. He sounds tired. "Isn't it odd to you that we both have to blackmail the other? I have to blackmail you with Ray's wife, you have to blackmail me with June..." He wipes his mouth and the laughter disappears. "No one would believe that. Ever. And Maggie would squish you under her shoe before she let you drag her girl's name around."

"June would be devastated. I don't believe she'd like the rumors going around."

John smirks. "She's a big girl. I think she can handle it."

"I'm going to tell everyone, John, if you don't let me back in here. Or divorce me if you will but I better get a big piece."

John stands and walks over to the window. Melissa's heart is beating fast. For once in her life she can't imagine what he's thinking or what he'll do next. His head turns and once again his eyes run up and down her body. There's no lust in his look; only detached interest. Then he goes back to staring outside at God only knows what.

"You must be such a miserable person, Melissa. Do you ever get any joy out of life?"

Her fingers fly up to her necklace. "Don't change the subject. Do we understand one another?"

John deliberates for a while. "If I don't tell Ray's wife, and if you don't drag June into this, then we split everything 50/50. Neither of us contest anything, ask for anything too grand, fight it at at all." He turns away from the window. There's only resigned hatred in his stare. "Happy?"

50/50. Not what she wanted, not what Karen told her to fight for, but it's better than she would have received if she hadn't brought June into this. Slowly her head bobs up and down, but she's not really. She'll follow the rules, but she doesn't feel as pleased as she thought she would. Her husband—ex-husband—looks away.