February Sucks - Matter of Fact

Marc, bored with the announcements, remained out of sight until it was time to reveal himself as the surprise guest. His eyes had been scanning the entire ballroom, and his mind nearly short-circuited as he saw the stunning beauty that was still Linda. As if on auto-pilot, he made a beeline towards her.

Linda for her part was taking inventory of the cakes, double, even triple checking that there was more than enough for everyone and then some. She could feel a presence. A familiar one. One that made her spine tingle even before she turned up to see him. Oh no...

"Hey, Linda." He said, suave as ever. She was frozen in place, registering his sudden appearance. What was he doing here?

"What are you doing here?" Marc did a double take, not having expected that reaction out of her. Quickly trying to regain his confidence, he chuckled.

"I'm here to give my own donation." Not so subtly, his eyes quickly glanced her up and down. "I'm glad I did, I get to see you again." He said, running his hand along the frosting of one of her cakes and licking it off his fingertip. Giving her that all too familiar look that he had given her whole of that February night.

This would have made any other woman melt at the knees. Linda, however, had already gone down that path, and searching within herself, she could confidently say was well and over this man. Because this was a very public event, however, she decided to take the most peaceful and kind approach.

"I'm flattered, Marc. I hope you're going to eat that cake you've just touched." Marc narrowed his eyes on her. If that was a double entendre, he couldn't hear it in her inclection. What in the world? He kept at it.

"Well, I was hoping I'd get a much sweeter cake." He tilted his head to get a better look at her behind. Linda moved her hips so as to hide that bit of herself away from his gaze.

"Stop that." She warned. He laughed it off incredulously.

"What the hell, Linda?" He crossed his arms. "We had two perfect nights and you don't want to go for a third?"

"Yes. I'm not like that anymore." She frowned. "I never should have been."

"What do you mean? It's who you are. You're a risk taker." He tried to remind her. "Come on, no one's looking at us Linda. I'm still your favorite player aren't I? The best you've ever had." He teased, trying to shake her memories like a snowglobe. It was working, only in the opposite way.

Linda was indeed remembering that night. And all the snowballing effects of events that followed after. Her ipad journal, her divorce, the arguments, the ultimatums, the self-loathing. It was all coming back to her. Before her lied the poison that she all too willingly took for a thrill-ride that was ultimately not worth it.

Where once she would have gotten wet and red in the face for this man, she now looked at him as if he were a scorpion threatening her with a stinger. Claws at the ready to keep her in place.

"You once told me that most people are scared of the unknown and are scared to take risks." She recalled, making Marc think that her saying his words back to him was a sign that she was about to give in. "And with you, it's going to always be a lose-lose gamble. Let it go, Marc. Move on." She said sternly. Her face was serious. Expressionless. Adamant.

This wouldn't be like those moments in certain types of stories where upon seeing the lover would make her swoon and weak willed. Those types where just the mere sight of him would have ignited the temptation from that fateful night. Where it would be strongest most of all to have wanted to go with him with all the memories of knowing what he was capable of. Where the long time away from each other ignited a fire within both parties that would be ready to blow upon contact once more.

None of that was there now. She just looked at a man with the same indifference someone would a curtain. And that's all this was ultimately. The final curtain of their interactions she'd hoped.

His swagger took a hit. He couldn't believe it. Who was she to have suddenly become too good for him? Lose-lose gamble? No. No! He was Marc LaValliere. Winning was in his very existence. He'd hit the genetic lottery, reached the physical peak of masculinity anyone would kill for or be with. Suddenly, this suburban mother and wife that he's conquered twice was rejecting him. He chuckled dangerously, causing Linda to grow concerned.

"You don't seem to recall how great we fit together." He went on the offensive. This caught Linda off-guard, but she regained her composure.

"What I recall is I hurt my marriage beyond repair and hurt my husband because of my actions." She shot back. "Ultimately it wasn't worth it."

"Bullshit. You came back for seconds. Like the repressed submissive that you are." He smirked at her. She frowned at him. He saw that as an opportunity to keep pressing her buttons. "You've got the mark of LaValliere with you for the rest of your life. Multiple in fact from that first night we met." She was taken aback by him. Who was this man? This was not how she remembered him. Then again, did she ever really know him? She guessed not. It just made those decisions all the stupider.

"Whatever happened between us, it's done Marc. Move on. Leave me alone." Her nostrils flared as she glared at him threateningly.

Jim was making his way towards the bakery table, whilst everyone's attention was still on the other speaker. His telling Dee off had gotten his blood pumping and he needed the comfort and love of Linda to calm down.That on top of making sure she was ok.

Then lo and behold that the Asshole was there. In front of Linda no less. He was frozen in place as memories from that night flooded back to him. The dancing, the abandonment, the humiliation, and all the pain. His psyche was on the verge of breaking as his biggest fears and trauma began to attack him. He could only see his back, but he could not forget his figure, his silhouette. Never. He needed to see and hear what happened this time. Whatever she chose would make or break all their hard work. He was standing on edge.

"You honestly can't tell me that what I've done to you doesn't keep you awake at night." Marc said. So they'd been talking about that night, Jim thought. Marc on the other hand, was projecting. "The things you did with me that night. The things I did to you." He scoffed. "I doubt there's been a man like me in your life." This irritated Linda.

"You're right." Jim's heart sank. "There isn't. But I will tell you this. You're not a part of my life, nor will you ever be. And I'm glad about that. I have a real man in my life and he makes all others pale in comparison. You most of all." Jim's heart skipped a beat at hearing that from her.

"Is that so?" Marc laughed in disbelief. Linda answered with a grin of her own.

"You couldn't do half the things he can." She said with resolution.

"Sweetheart, I've done more things to you than he ever could have." There was a crack in his armor. This wasn't only him getting petty because she was rejecting him, but because he missed her. Linda suddenly realized and rose above her own emotions and her natural caring disposition took charge. It was all starting to make sense.

"Did I hurt you that badly, Marc?" She asked. It was genuine. Linda's look was one of sincerity. For all her faults and wrongdoings, she was growing out of being a vindictive person. Marc's eye twitched at her question and his breathing stopped momentarily. But as he examined her, he mistook her look of sympathy for one of pity. One and the same to him. "You need to move on for your sake." She reached up to offer the smallest helping hand she could have. That was the last straw for Marc, and he instinctively swiped her hand away from him.

"Don't you fucking pity me." Marc glared at her as she recoiled from him. "Not after you let me fuck you like the desperate housewife you are."

And just as quickly as all that dark shit appeared to Jim, it was replaced by anger. He tasted blood at the back of his throat. He'd seen enough to know she wasn't a threat to their marriage. Marc heard footsteps behind him, and he knew someone was coming towards him. He rolled his eyes, thinking he'd been recognized by a fan.

"I don't have time for an autograph, buddy." He said over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on a terrified Linda.

"Hey, Asshole." Jim said as she shoved him away from Linda and placed himself between them. Like her knight in shining armor, Jim had come to Linda's defense at just the right time.

"What the fuck man?" He looked at Jim, he seemed familiar, but he couldn't click the memory immediately. And then it did. Marc sneered at Jim. "You must be the cuckold." Linda had never seen a more evil look in man until that night. What had she wrought onto their lives? "I was hoping to be discreet like last time. But I don't mind letting you see it happen this time. Do you, Linda?" He looked over at her.

"Enough." Tears began to spill from her eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening. "Stop. Jim, he's not worth it." Marc was on a roll. He turned to Jim, who stared him down with anger.

"Oh, I certainly am worth it. In fact, it was worth your marriage right?"

"Shut up, Marc!" She glared daggers at him, trying to get Jim's attention back to her so as to de-escalate the situation. He then turned to Jim.

"You do know that she's also making me look like the bad guy again, right?" He had weaponized her trust. "Like that 'last' call you heard. Trust me, she wants more of me and she'll get it when you're not looking." Jim was just about sick of this guy and did something no one expected him to do. Even himself. He stepped up to him, something in his pose was challenging Marc. They all sensed it.

Both men sized each other up. Marc may still have towered over him, but his days at the gym had straightened his back more and he certainly appeared taller and more menacingly than he did almost three years ago.

"Fuck off." Jim warned. Resolve and wrath in his eyes.

"Or what?" Marc sneered. "Gonna kick my ass?" He tried calling a bluff. No normal everyday Joe like Jim could hope to have matched him. Jim closed more distance between them. Not backing down.

"Yeah." Jim answered more seriously than he'd ever been in his life. Linda gasped. Marc laughed at his face.

"Really? I have 80 pounds over you easily." He boasted.

"Jim, don't do this." Linda urged, looking around making sure no one was looking. Jim, however, was committed to this. It hurt a bit that Linda wasn't confident in his abilities. Whatever, what mattered was that he believed.

"There's a spot in the alley. We can leave through the back."

"Like I did with her?" Marc teased. Jim smirked in return.

"I'm taking you with me tonight." Marc was more than interested in whoever this cuck was, he had some quips to him.

"Oh I'm going to be dancing around you."

"Wanna hold my hand, or are you gonna fumble me too?" Jim retorted. Marc had to laugh at this.

"Let's go." Marc smirked. It wasn't often that he went around picking fights, but he was eager to put this cuck in his place.

"No, stop it." Linda tried, but failed, to do much as both men walked out of the ballroom through a side door. She tried her best to put someone in charge of her table while she rushed to look for them.

Jim led the way as he and Marc took off their jackets and set them on the door handles.

"Maybe after I kick your ass, she'll smarten up and join my team." Marc quipped. Jim glared at him and undid his tie and then held his fists up and took a boxing stance. Once Marc saw him ready, he gave no chance for Jim to react as he bum rushed him. He may have been a tight end, but he could tackle, of that there was no doubt.

Jim, was surprised by this type of attack. His boxing mates at the gym wouldn't have been able to have told him about this if they all expected a fair boxing match. And that was a mistake was paying for now, as he had instigated a street fight.

Crashing against the edge of a trash dumpster, the angle really dug into him painfully before bouncing off and hitting the wall. Disoriented, Jim was then pushed against the wall and his defenses activated when Marc began to cock his fist back. Pulling his forearms up, Jim blocked as best as he could against the bigger man's punches.

Marc was aiming for just about everything he could have, the face, the ribs, the kidneys. Jim was examining how he fought and tried to see what he could use against him. If your opponent was stronger, you had to be faster. Hard to do when against the wall. Pushing himself off the wall, Jim created enough force to break free from the corner that Marc had put him in.

Both of them circled the other as Marc went ahead and tried to rush him again. It was then that Jim realized about Marc. It clicked. He wasn't fighting like a boxer, he was fighting like an NFL player. Trampling over a smaller man like a steamroller was par for the course. Understanding this, Jim rushed in turn and held his knee up to Marc's face.

Both men stumbled away from each other. That was a stupidly risky move on Jim's part but it paid off. Marc was now bleeding from his nose and was now forced to think twice about rushing him. Fists it was.

Both men held their hands up, ready to throw them at each other. Marc wasn't used to fighting shorter guys than him, if anything they revered him. Unlike Jim here, using the reach of his longer arms never registered him and his mind simply remained on using bigger size and athleticism to put this worm down.

With every punch Marc threw, it felt like being hit with a seven pound kettlebell wherever it landed. Jim was quick enough to have blocked most of them but he knew there would be bruises and severe damage if he wasn't careful. Marc knew this about his strength. You didn't train with the best and not have the power to cause real damage. Now if he only knew when and where to actually concentrate his hits, then this fight would have been over before it started.

Jim had this guy's six. Marc was sloppy. No technique, no form. He only knew football, whereas even that one and a half year of boxing was enough to bridge the gap between their fighting capabilities. With every punch that Marc threw, Jim was more than ready and trained enough to block or weave out of. Seeing an opening, Jim struck Marc 2 out of 3 times. This affected Marc more and more, bit by bit. Nose bleeding, breath hitching, damage taken, and still reeling from his injury, it didn't occur to him how vulnerable he truly was.

After a well placed uppercut to Marc's chin, the tight end was disoriented and his hands fell down for a few inches, just enough of an opening that Jim pulled his last punch. Planting his foot firmly behind him, and reeling his fist back, Jim pushed all his body weight behind his finishing haymaker.

When it connected, Marc lost his footing. Jim always heard that wherever the head went, the body followed. He figured it was simply a saying that meant that everyone could be knocked down. It was only when he saw how Marc fell that he understood the truth of that statement. It was as if he was watching it all in slow motion, and there was even a moment where, as Marc was falling, that the NFL player's feet were above his head as it landed hard against the asphalt.

It was then that Linda came out of the door, hurriedly in a panic, looking for them both. She noticed Jim first and then Marc. Jim's attention turned to her at the sound of the door opening and he smiled at his beautiful woman.

"You missed the fight." He said, when suddenly, all of the adrenaline that had been pumping through him was dissipating. "Oh fuck." He fell down to his knees as Linda quickly moved to him to help him up.

"That was so stupid of you." She said as she held him up.

"Didn't think I could take him?" He teased. Their attention was caught when they heard Marc sobbing as he crawled to sit upright against the dumpster. Both of them had never seen a man more broken than he was now. Jim had really done a number on him. Not to the point of disfigurement, but he certainly was not going to look handsome for a long time.

"Let's go, Jim." Linda supported Jim in walking back inside. Marc held his head down, tears and blood running down his clothes. His pain coming forth in waves, both physical and mental. How the fuck was he going to explain this to his teammates. Unbeknownst to him, on the other end of the alley stood a figure. Sensing this presence, Marc turned over to see a bouncer for the event. In a bright brass name tag and in black font read Dave.

"Listen, buddy. I'm fine. I just need to get cleaned up a bit and I'll go back in to give the damn check. The bouncer approached him further. "Look man, I need you to kindly fuck off, please?" He said. He looked back down, wanting to sit in his own self pity for a moment longer. He still heard the footsteps. "God dammit man, I sai-" He wasn't able to finish his sentence, as the man began to lay into him repeatedly and violently.

Dave was rebelling in the experience of finally getting revenge of the fucker LaValliere. His fury was righteous, his hits were precise, and his beliefs justified. At one point, Marc had gone limp, and now was the moment Dave was hoping for. Grabbing a plank from off the floor, he began to bring it down repeatedly on his knees.

"Oh my god!" Dee shouted from the door, causing Dave to turn to her. She was hoping to get a glimpse of a video where Marc and Jim were fighting and maybe make some profit off of that. Ideally going home with Marc in the process when he inevitably beat Jim. What she had stumbled on, instead put the fear of god in her. She quickly left, rushing away from the scene. Dave began to panic and ran off away from LaValliere.

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They were in the emergency room. All Jim said was that a fight had been instigated, and he'd gotten involved trying to stop it. The doctor didn't ask any further questions. Giving him a prescription for painkillers, and sending the couple home.

The drive home had been a quiet one. Linda had been more upset with Jim than she'd ever been. But she figured he'd had enough on his mind after what had transpired. When they arrived, Jim went to the fridge to grab an iced bag of peas and sat down to put it on his face.

"You shouldn't have done that." She started.

"I did, and I won." Jim said.

"Well good for you." She frowned. He did so in turn too. "But it was still stupid." She crossed her arms at him.

"I don't think so." He looked away.

"Well it was, Jim! For god's sake, we have children Jim. What if someone saw you both and called the cops. Pretty fucking hard to be there for them from behind a jail cell!" She exasperated. "Oh my god what if he presses fucking charges?" She buried her head in her hands.

Jim is ashamed to admit that his kids were far from his mind at the time. She raised a good point about the extreme repercussions of the fallout of such a fight.

"You're right, but he won't." He confirmed. "He's too proud to admit he got his ass kicked by a man half his size." He explained.

"That doesn't change anything!" As far as Linda saw, it really was like two brutes fighting one another during mating season for rights. And she was far from flattered. Her Jim was better than that.

"It changes everything Linda!" He got up, she stared him down. "Do you have any idea how much I needed that? I've moved on to the point that I could have gotten between you and protected you!" Linda swallowed as she heard him. "I didn't seek a fight for fight's sake. But he kept coming at you and I had to get him off our backs somehow." He explained. "I gotta say. It felt good. He got what was coming to him." He wiped his head. "I promise you I didn't set out to fight just for vengeance sake. I did it because a man like him would have otherwise not have stopped." He explained. "He was in love and desperate. And nothing short of me could have stopped him. He was beyond listening to you." He sighed.