Christy's Choice

The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental and the author accepts no responsibility for offence caused.

* * *

"Can I have a pint of Guinness, love?"

The old guy dropped a pile of small change on the bar with a clatter. I grabbed a clean glass from the shelf and began to pull his beer from the pump while he sniffed and stared briefly at my chest with a wistful expression in his rheumy eyes.

Dan caught my eye as he glanced up from the footy pages of the local paper. He grinned with amusement as he watched my customer patiently count out every last penny from his collection of coppers. I smiled back and rolled my eyes skywards. This guy had to have spent months saving these coins.

The entrance door swung open, distracting me, and my smile froze when a man walked in dripping raindrops on to the stone floor. Dan raised his head from the newspaper. He must have noticed the strange expression on my face for he looked at me quizzically, but the muted conversations and music from the jukebox had faded and I was being catapulted back into another time and place...

* * *

Even before the words had registered in my brain, I felt the pain hitting me like a vicious blast of frigid rain.

"I'm sorry," Steve had said as he turned to face me. "I know we talked about it, but I just can't do that to my kids. It would hurt them too much." He had shrugged helplessly, unable to look me in the eye. Instead had he stared at the ground and traced a circle in the dirt with the toe of his shoe.

I stared at him silently. It wasn't like he had ever really promised me anything, but that hadn't stopped me dreaming of a happy ever after; just like in the films.

"They're old enough to deal with it," I implored, still believing I could reason with him. "Kids are tough -- as long as the split is amicable, they'll be fine."

He just looked at me sadly and I knew then that he had never wanted the same things as me. Three years of my life crumbled into dust as I watched the sky darken beyond the line of trees. An ominous rumble of thunder hinted at the rain to come and I suddenly remembered the washing I had left pegged out on my washing line. Not that that mattered. Nothing mattered any more. My life was officially over as far as I was concerned.

* * *

"Why are you here?" I asked flatly as the memory faded and I found Steve staring at me across the bar.

"I heard you were working here and I wanted to see you."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dan with his head buried in the paper again and I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't want any hassle. Returning my attention to the man who had ripped my life apart two years ago, I crossed my arms across my chest defensively.

"Now you've seen me, perhaps you can piss off again," I hissed. Then I glared at him defiantly as I tried to quell the riot of emotions running through my head. He was the last person I had expected to see again.

Millions of times I had fantasised about meeting him unexpectedly. The different scenarios had played through my head in glorious Technicolor as I imagined him begging me for another chance while I disdainfully explained that I had met someone else and he, Steve, meant nothing to me any more. In my dreams he would be crushed and heartbroken; devastated to hear that it was too late for him and me.

Unfortunately, the reality turned out to be a whole lot more complicated. Despite my pretence at hostility, I was actually feeling incredibly confused and conflicted. Seeing Steve again had resurrected all of the old pain and hurt. I had mistakenly believed that I was over him -- now he was within touching distance, I was not so sure.

"I'm sorry," he said in a voice so low I barely heard it above the sudden clatter of coins spewing from the fruit machine. We both turned briefly to see a youth eagerly scooping up his jackpot win. Clearly he had more luck than I did.

"Sorry for what?" I asked Steve eventually. "Sorry for hurting me? Sorry for using me? Or just sorry that I don't want you anymore?"

He looked sad. "Sorry for everything, I guess," he sighed.

My anger evaporated into thin air. I had spent too long hating him and I was tired of it. "I'm sorry too," I replied in a dead voice. I could see Dan looking over at me again with a funny expression and I knew he must be wondering who this man was. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Dan -- he didn't deserve that.

"I can see this was a mistake," Steve sighed. "I'll go now." He stepped away from the bar and glanced outside at the pouring rain.

It was obvious that he didn't want to leave, but we really had nothing left to say anymore. I was just about to turn my back on him when his final parting words sent me into a tailspin.

"Elaine and I aren't together anymore," he said. "I did it eventually," he added with a wry smile. Without waiting for me to reply, he walked out of the bar and disappeared into the drizzling rain. I caught a glimpse of a black car pulling away from the kerb, and then he was gone, out of my life once again.

Suddenly I wasn't too sure how I felt about that.

* * *

It was late by the time my boss allowed me to go home. There were a couple of hardened regulars finishing their drinks as I gave the bar one final wipe down. "See you on Tuesday," I said to Pete. He nodded briefly before returning his attention to cashing up the till for the night.

Dan was waiting for me outside and I climbed into his car silently, still thinking about Steve and what he had said to me earlier. I stared vacantly out of the window as Dan drove me home through the dark, wet streets, occasionally glancing at me.

"Everything okay?" he asked eventually when I continued to say nothing.

"Yeah," I replied. It wasn't okay, but I wasn't ready to tell Dan about Steve. It was complicated and until I got a handle on how I felt about everything, I needed time.

Dan said nothing more. I knew he didn't believe me, but I was too wrapped up in my memories to give him much consideration.

* * *

I had known Steve was with somebody else when we met, but alcohol has a remarkable way of blurring the boundaries between right and wrong. If I had been sober, I would have walked away and dismissed my attraction to Steve as exciting, but too dangerous to consider pursuing.

As it was, I had drunk more than enough to quell my inhibitions. I was high that night on a combination of relief following the end of an unsatisfactory relationship, and excitement that my life was about to take off for pastures new. When Steve caught my eye, I jumped feet first into something I should have given myself time to consider the implications of.

"All alone?" I had asked teasingly as we found ourselves outside whilst the party continued to rage on inside.

"The music was giving me a headache," he said wryly as he lit a cigarette. "Plus I needed my nicotine fix. Want one?" He offered me the pack, but I shook my head.

"No, I don't smoke," I replied. "Disgusting habit," I added with a grimace.

"I know," Steve grinned, "but I'm trying to quit." He took a long drag on the cigarette and we both began, by unspoken agreement, to walk away from the house and down the path that led through the garden.

The night air was chilly and I felt my skin begin to goose bump. The thin dress I was wearing gave me scant protection from the cold, but I didn't really care all that much. The sense of danger I felt being out here with this man was more than enough to distract me from any discomfort.

When my heel caught a gap in the stone flags, I stumbled. For a second I thought I was going to fall, but then a hand caught my arm and steadied me. "Careful," Steve said, "it would be a premature end to the evening if you sprained your ankle out here."

He slid an arm around my waist and I felt a warm buzz of adrenaline at the contact. It had been a while since I had enjoyed any real intimacy and some physical contact was long overdue.

We walked a little further until the tall trees and shrubs blocked the bright lights from the house. High above us, a silver moon shone down, painting the garden in a pale, mysterious glow. It was beautiful, but I was oblivious; I only had eyes for Steve.

"You shouldn't be out here with me," I commented as we stopped beside the gazebo, his arm still around my waist.

"Oh, why's that?" he replied, amusement evident in his voice.

"Because people will talk," I said huskily.

"Do you have a bad reputation?"

"No!"

"Then I'm safe." I could see him smiling at me in the dim light and my stomach lurched.

"What about your wife? Won't she wonder where you've gone?"

He laughed caustically. "Oh I doubt that." From the way he said it, I had to wonder what kind of relationship they had, but really it was none of my business. I had seen his wife briefly a few times, but I didn't know much about either of them apart from what I had gleaned from asking around earlier.

"I take it she's not the jealous type?" I asked mischievously, taking a step closer and sliding my arms around his neck.

"Only when it suits her," he said. "But I don't want to talk about her, let's talk about you instead."

I pressed my body against his and looked up at him. "How about we don't talk at all?" I whispered before doing what I had wanted to do all evening.

Our lips touched and I felt him hesitate for a microsecond, before he crushed me against his chest and kissed me back forcefully. Instantly the heat within my body became an inferno and I forgot everything, but the feel of him kissing me.

The sound of a voice calling through the darkness eventually penetrated my brain and I felt him pull away.

"Steve!"

"Shit," he muttered. Before I could say a word, he was gone, a dark shadow hurrying up the path towards the house.

I was left on my own feeling slightly disoriented. The sexual fugue began to dissipate and I realised that I was freezing out here in the garden. It didn't stop me wanting Steve though. Oh no.

* * *

Dan was already in bed by the time I climbed beneath the duvet. He turned to face me in the darkness and I allowed him to pull me into his arms as he always did. His familiar scent pushed the images that had been tormenting me all evening firmly out of my head and I slowly relaxed.

My leg slipped between his thighs and I snuggled closer as I listened to his heart beating steadily. I didn't want to spoil what I had found with Dan. He had been good to me and despite the fact I had been an emotional mess when we first met, he had taken it all in his stride and we were happy now.

His fingers traced a pattern on the small of my back and I instinctively nudged closer to him, enjoying the way his teasing touch was sending small shivers along my spine. I was tired after my long shift, but part of me sought to use sex as a way of blocking out any difficult soul searching. I had spent too long analysing everything that had happened with Steve and I had no desire to rehash it all over again.

I nuzzled Dan's neck and slid my hand down across his hip. I felt his erection against my belly and I knew that it wouldn't take much encouragement from me to initiate sex.

"I thought you were tired," he said as I grabbed hold of his hard cock and squeezed it.

I didn't reply; words were not what I wanted right now. Instead I tilted my face up and kissed Dan, effectively putting a stop to the conversation before it had begun. He opened his mouth and allowed my tongue to gain entry. As the kiss deepened, I pushed him on to his back and moved astride his body.

With his arms holding me tightly, I felt cocooned in a warm bubble -- nothing could reach me now; I was safe. His hands caressed the sweep of my bottom and I moaned softly against his mouth as desire overrode the confusing morass of memories in my head.

My body ached with a need to be filled and I shifted to allow Dan's cock to push inside me. He grabbed my hips and jerked upwards, gasping as I tightly clutched him with my inner muscles. Sitting up slightly, I watched him as I began to move rhythmically.

Dan made no effort to help me -- he was happy to let me take charge for once. Instead, he moved his hands up my body until he reached the gentle swell of my breasts. I moaned encouragingly and he pinched my nipples in the way he knew I liked.

I was so close now I could almost taste it. My eyes drifted shut as I allowed the familiar sensations to build inside me. The duvet had fallen off, but despite the cool air of my bedroom, I was burning up. A light sheen of moisture gleamed across my body as I quickened my pace, pushing us both towards an inevitable conclusion.

When it finally happened, I threw my head back and surrendered to the pleasure that crashed over me. I eventually fell forward on to Dan's chest and I felt him roll me over until he was on top, driving in to me with a force he didn't normally display.

He tensed up as he came and I felt the heat bloom high within me. Rolling off me, he pulled me against his sweating body as our combined fluids seeped out on to the sheet. Eventually he moved and pulled the duvet back up to cover us both.

I felt sleep claiming me as he whispered in my ear.

"Christy, we need to talk..."

"Mmm," I mumbled, but I was already drifting off into blackness, my body tired from our lovemaking and my head numb from the shock of seeing Steve again. I faintly heard him say something else, but I was too gone to reply.

* * *

I examined the streaky glass with irritation before I placed it back on the shelf above the bar. It always annoyed me when the glasses came out of the washer with marks on them, but there was nothing I could do about it. Most of the time, customers didn't care, but occasionally an especially picky one would demand a clean glass.

My shift was quiet tonight. A funeral had taken place in the village and most of the regulars had gone to pay their respects to the deceased. The fact that the old guy had finally succumbed to alcoholism related illness was an irony not entirely lost on me, but it wasn't my place to judge. I was only here to serve the drinks and provide some eye candy for grizzled old farmers.

Or so Dan liked to tease me. I smiled when I thought about him. He was good to me in so many ways and I knew I'd be a fool to risk losing him. He was away for the next couple of days on a work related course and I was missing him already. My shifts in the pub dragged when he wasn't there to amuse me during the quiet spells.

The door opened and a cold chill blasted in from outside. Part of me wasn't all that surprised when I saw Steve walking in for the second time in a week. It had been too much to hope for that he might have left me alone. He just wasn't that kind of bloke.

"Is there some law that says I can't drink in here?" he asked sweetly when he caught my hostile glare.

"No, but I don't have to serve you," I said nastily. Then I noticed Pete, the landlord, frowning at me from his stool at the end of the bar, and I relented. I didn't particularly want to lose my job -- Steve really wasn't worth it.

"Ok, what do you want," I asked wearily.

"A pint of lager, please," he replied as he sat down in front of me.

I poured the lager, deliberately allowing it to slop over the edge of the glass carelessly. I knew I was being childish, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

Steve handed me a ten-pound note and I rang the transaction through the till before tossing his change back at him with a scowl. I couldn't believe he had had the nerve to come back and harass me when I had made it blatantly clear on his last visit that I wasn't interested.

But for the next two hours, he sat at the bar and watched me work. I tried so hard to ignore his presence that I almost developed a crick in my neck from turning away from him each time I walked up and down. God I hated him for doing this to me. He was evil.

It was almost a relief when he finally gathered up his coat and left without a backwards glance. Almost. Part of me experienced a slight twinge that he hadn't tried to talk to me at all, even though I was aware that I hadn't exactly given him the opportunity.

By the time I walked outside into the pub car park at the end of my shift, I was tired and pissed off with myself. I headed for my car with a depressing sense that everything was about to blow up in my face and my hard won happiness was shortly going to vanish. The sight of Steve waiting for me did nothing to quell the sense of impending doom that hung over me like a noxious cloud.

"I really need to talk to you," he said as he watched my reaction carefully.

"If I scream loudly, Pete will come running out here with his baseball bat," I warned Steve. "He's a total psycho with several convictions for grievous bodily harm," I added. It was a bald faced lie, but I was counting on the fact that Steve wouldn't know that.

"Really?" Steve looked unconvinced; hardly surprising when Pete was a short, skinny guy with great taste in woolly sweaters.

"Yes, really. Now fuck off and leave me alone." I turned my back on him and unlocked my car

"Come on, Christy, gimme a break!" I heard the exasperation in his voice and I smiled despite my annoyance at the way he was trying to inveigle his way back into my life.

"Why?" I snapped, turning back to face him, "I owe you nothing, Steve."

Steve rubbed his temple, something he had always done under when under pressure. "Look, I know I fucked up, but I want you to give me a second chance." He looked at me hopefully and I felt something unexpected stir deep inside me. "We were good together," he added. "You know that much is true."

I did know that. On so many levels we had been perfect for each other. That was why it had been so painful to walk away from him at the end.

"Yes, we were," I conceded reluctantly and I saw the look of triumph flicker across his face. "But the fact is, you made a choice and that choice wasn't me."

I couldn't prevent the bitterness from creeping into my voice and I knew that he heard it.

"I had no choice at the time," he said quietly. "You knew how it was -- I never lied to you."

"Didn't you?" I asked harshly. "How about all the times we made love and you held me afterwards - was that not telling me something? Or was I supposed to think that it was all just a quick fuck?"

"It was never just sex."

"No, it wasn't - which was why I thought we had a future until you put me straight on a few things."

"I wanted those things too," he said softly. "But the timing was all wrong."

"No, Steve, it wasn't about the timing -- it was about you being too weak to make a choice."

He didn't deny it. We both knew I was right.

"I found out I was pregnant after we split," I blurted. The words tumbled out before I had a chance to stop them and I felt the agony rip through me all over again. For a second I thought he hadn't heard me, but then he grabbed my arm.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in shock.

He looked like the stuffing had been knocked out of him completely and I experienced a sense of satisfaction that finally he might begin to understand just how much he'd hurt me.

"Because there was no point."

"But what happened...?" He looked at me, clearly trying to think through all the possible scenarios.

"What happened was that I had a late miscarriage and nearly died from complications."

It had been the worst time of my life and what had made it infinitely more unbearable was that he hadn't been there for me. Not that he ever had been there for me in any real sense.

"Oh God, Christy, I wish I'd known," he said as he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. I began to cry as the emotional impact of it all overwhelmed me.