Running Mate Pt. 02

The only thing that bothered me was that I kept thinking about Amanda. She would encroach into my thoughts at odd times. I would wonder how she was doing and whether she was getting fucked by Peter. I knew the answer but avoided it.

Beth was terrific and I was happy with her as my friend. She filled a huge void in my life. I needed this closeness. I needed the smell and taste of a woman on my skin and in my mouth. I felt whole again.

I realised with a start that I was no longer grieving my wife. I missed her and loved her. But a part of me now fully accepted she was gone. I felt like I was betraying her and for a time I was lost in guilt. I needed an outlet and so I told Beth.

She made light of it and it surprised and annoyed me greatly. I needed to talk about it, and she didn't seem open to it. I saw Beth in a new light and a seed of doubt took root in my mind. I left her sleeping on my bed, washed and dressed, and headed downstairs. The marathon sex had me hungry. It was late afternoon and I opened the fridge to find something to prepare for an early supper.

I heard a light tap at my front door and when I opened it Amanda was standing there. It was raining outside, and she only wore her jeans and a thin tee-shirt. She was shivering. She ran into my arms and held me.

I pulled her inside and held her, stroking her back. I pushed the door closed with my foot. I didn't know what was wrong, but I could sense she needed me. She placed her head in my shoulder and just held me. She was soaked through.

"How long were you outside?" I asked her softly.

"Too long," she whispered into my shoulder.

"You okay?"

She shook her head against me.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

She didn't say anything and so I just continued to hold her. I heard the shower turn on upstairs and Amanda heard it too. She pulled back from me. "Is she still here?"

"Yeah."

She stepped back from me and I could see the expression on her face. It was a mix of anger and sorrow. "Okay," was all she said, and she left closing the front door behind her.

I stood in the hallway and watched her run down my driveway and away. I felt the chill of the rain soaked into my shirt. Something was wrong and I felt it, too. I wanted her to come back but knew it was hopeless.

I went back to the kitchen and prepared a light supper.

* * *

Late that night, after Beth had gone home, I heard my doorbell ring. I answered it and Amanda was back. She pushed past me into my house and I closed the door. It had stopped raining a few hours ago and the heat had raised the humidity. It was unbearable outside.

I found Amanda curled up on my couch, with her legs under her, drinking a glass of wine. I saw she had poured me a glass and left it on the coffee table. I picked it up and sat on the other couch. I sipped my wine and waited for her.

We sat in silence for a good ten minutes. Whatever was bothering her was really eating her up. I wondered about Peter and entertained the thought that perhaps he did something terrible.

"Peter didn't do anything, did he?"

She shook her head.

"Did he hurt you?"

She snorted. "No, he was the perfect gentleman. We fucked; it was fun. I came home and saw your bedroom light on. It stayed on."

I blinked at her words. Had she been standing outside staring up at my bedroom window all night? What the fuck?

Amanda must have sensed just how bizarre her words were. "Sorry, it's not like that. I wanted to see you last night... afterward. Talk about it. I knew it had to be hard for you after Betty..." She trailed off not

Her words struck me hard. I felt my eyes sting. Amanda understood. She got me. I looked away and blinked hard.

"I dunno, I wanted to see that you were okay? But your lights were on. So I waited a bit and went home. I couldn't sleep and snuck out of the house and came back. Your light was still on. I could hear you in there. Fucking. She's really, really loud."

She sniffed and sipped her wine. She wasn't looking at me, instead she stared at the dormant gas fireplace. "I went home and then this morning I came back. I was afraid to ring the doorbell in case she was still here. I knocked, but you didn't answer. I should have gone home, but I couldn't. I waited and tried again. And again. Then you answered. And she was still here. There you have it. The fucked up world of Amanda."

We sat in silence. I knew I should say something. She needed to hear me say something. I was afraid.

She glanced at me and drained her wine. Then she stared at me hard for a moment and stood up. She pulled her shirt off and stood in front of me with her breasts bared to me. They were gorgeous, round and full, with thick, puffy nipples. They glowed with her youth. She glared at me defiantly.

"I want you, John. Please take me. I need you. I'm what you need, not her."

I stared at her. I wanted her so bad. I needed her, too. I could only stare.

She growled and came over to my couch and straddled me before I could move. She reached down and started unbuckling my belt. "Fuck me, John. Right now. I need you inside me."

I tried to fight her, but she was driven. She had her hand down the front of my pants and dragged my cock out forcefully. My cock scrapped hard against the zipper and I cried out. To my shame I was rock hard. She gasped when she saw it.

She drove her mouth onto mine, kissing hard and driving her tongue into my mouth. She fumbled at her jeans trying to undo them. I wanted this so badly. I craved her. Then a small part of my brain told me to stop this. It was wrong. I had a girlfriend and she had a boyfriend. It was wrong.

I wrenched my mouth from hers and grabbed her hands and pulled them off me. "Stop! Amanda! Please, stop!"

She cried out and fought me, pleading. "No! John! Please, I need you!"

"We can't! Amanda, please! We can't. This is wrong."

"Your cock is hard for me, John. You want me. My pussy is soaked. It's always wet around you. I'm yours, take me! Fuck me!"

I struggled to stand up and get her off my lap. My cock was still hard and making my words seem like a lie. But they weren't. My desire drove my cock, but my reason drove my actions. "Please stop, Amanda. I care too much about you to do this. Not now! Not like this. Please."

My words finally sank in. She looked into my face and then ran sobbing from me. She scooped up her shirt and ran topless from my house, holding her pants up by the back. I sank on the couch and held my head in my hands.

"Jesus, Betty. What the fuck is going on?"

* * *

I didn't see Amanda for another week. She showed up at the running club. She saw me but moved over to join Peter. Beth observed all of it and she raised a questioning eyebrow at me. I shook my head a little and went back to stretching. Beth joined me and we helped each other. She made a point of thrusting her ass at me whenever she had a chance and grinned evilly at me.

Beth was at my house every night. We felt like teenagers and acted like them. I found a peace with her. She filled an empty part of me. I liked her sharing my bed and was sad when she had to go home at night.

Wednesday night had been yoga night. I hated it but promised to come back. The women were gorgeous and sexy and in positions that made the male mind do backflips. But I was so much in pain I never had a chance to enjoy the views.

Beth brought me home, limping up the walk, and dragged me upstairs and into a bath. That was fun. I had never bathed with my wife. It was a first and I instantly loved it. Afterward Beth put me in my jammies, blew me, and tucked me in. Yoga was worth it.

Friday was supposed to be game night, but Amanda waved it off, saying she had other plans. It ended up just being me and Beth. We played Catan, and she won each game. We played for sexual favours and I spent the rest of the night doing whatever she wanted. I think maybe I won.

It was Sunday and it was the running club weekly long run. We had twenty-five kilometres planned along the river. The weather was perfect for a run. It was overcast, cool, and zero humidity. I sensed a personal best ahead of me and we formed up outside and paired off. Beth was a much slower runner than me and so I normally ran with another fellow. I can never remember his name. I looked for him, but he wasn't here this morning. I smiled. It meant a solo run and I loved those.

The run started and I ran by myself at my pace. Soon, I was lost to the rhythm of running. If you haven't run before you might not understand that. Your body gets into a groove. If you're fit and have the stamina, you can run in that groove forever. It's a magic place and I could find it so easily now. I hit my stride and my muscles performed without thought.

I watched the river flow past me, feeling like a passenger. Ducks swam in the shallows. Dragonflies buzzed the flowers and skimmed the water. I was at peace. When my wife died, I had died with her. A long-prolonged death. It took Amanda to shake me out of my shroud. To put me back on my feet and show me that I had life still within me.

I owed her for that. I loved her. I knew I did. And she loved me. But I had nearly twenty years on her. That's an impossible amount of time. She argued with me about it. She always did. She said when I was eighty, she would be sixty. Both old, so what did it matter? Ah, the wisdom of youth. I had a lifetime of memories. We had little in common except for mutual admiration.

I thought of Beth and wondered what was in store for us. I could see myself settling down with her. It would be comfortable. With laughter and respect. We could share experiences and relate. She wasn't the love of my life and I think she cared more for her own happiness than mine. For now, we would remain friends with benefits. I was happy to take my time and see what happened next. Beth was the same. We understood each other.

I was watching a sailboat on the river when Amanda ran up beside me. I looked at her briefly and saw she was intent on the path. She matched her pace to mine, and we ran in silence for over a kilometre.

"Lovely day for this," I said to her.

She glanced at me before looking forward. "Yup."

"You and Peter doing okay?"

"Yup."

"I see."

We ran in silence. I glanced at her and she seemed upset about something.

"You see? What do you see, John? You're never around anymore."

I took a breath and thought before answering. I sensed an emotional explosion was not far off. "It was just an expression. I never see you anymore. I was wondering about you. I care for you, Amanda. I want to see you happy."

Amanda snorted. "Happy? You want to see me happy? How about you come to your senses and come with me? You and me, John. You love me, I know you do. I love you, too. We're perfect for each other! Why can't you see that?"

"Our age..."

"Fuck our ages! Jesus Christ! Enough about that! I don't care, John! I really don't!"

I counted to ten to calm myself. I needed to make her see reason and knew I would fail anyway. "But I do, Amanda. I do."

"So get over it!"

"I will never get over it. Do you know what a pet rock is? How about 'shit happens'? Where were you when the towers fell? How about the Berlin Wall? You know I miss my Sony Walkman? I wore out cassette tapes on that thing. How come women don't wear leg warmers anymore? Hey, you want to talk about your favourite M*A*S*H episode? Huh?"

"You're such an asshole."

"I am your elder, Amanda. You could be my daughter. I could be taking you to father-daughter dances. Shit, people will assume you are my daughter."

"I can accept that. And I don't care."

I reached out and grabbed her and we stopped on the path. Runners ran past us and yelled out at us. I watched them until they were all past. Beth ran past and eyed me and wisely kept going.

"Enough, Amanda. You need to let this go. I will never let it happen. Not in a million years. You have your whole life ahead of you. I've already had mine. I've loved, cried, lost, and laughed. You have to find your own path. Find someone you can share your life with. Not me. Never me. Please."

Amanda stared up at me and said nothing. Her chin trembled and her eyes were wet. I took her hands in mine and squeezed them. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it. I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her. She shook against me, crying.

"I love you, John! That has to be enough!"

"It isn't. The stories have it wrong. I loved my wife, Amanda. More than anything. When she died I hated her for leaving me. Love wasn't strong enough to keep her alive. We didn't get our happy-ever-after. She got an early grave and I got an empty house. In ten years, I'll have medical problems. It's a certainty. In fifteen, maybe my prostate is removed and there goes any sex I may have left in me. Maybe you're wiping my ass for me? Thirty-five and caring for your elderly husband. How much fun will that be? Will love be enough? It's a noble emotion. It promises such happiness. But it isn't strong enough to weather being human.

"You need to let me go. Find your own life and happiness. We will always be friends and I will always love you, Amanda. But you need to let me go."

Amanda lifted her face from my shoulders and looked into my eyes. Her eyes searched for something. Something to give lie to my words. They were harsh words and not altogether true. Beth would have laughed at me. Amanda, the young woman, didn't have the experience to detect the subtle lies. But she saw the truth I projected with my eyes, bought it, and laid her head back on my shoulder.

The truth was, love is strong enough. It got me through my wife's slow painful decline into death. It got me through her funeral and the years of solitude. My love for her sustained me. It had sustained us both. Her last words to me were of our love. She thanked me for being there with her. Our love made her passing bearable.

Oh sure, it tore me apart, too. Love is a two-edged blade. It cuts and cuts. It shreds your dignity. Leaves you raw and bleeding on the ground. It makes grown men weak like babies and women as strong as oxen. Love, the magic pill that keeps us striving for something better. Something to ground us to earth and make us happy.

I loved Amanda. I loved her so much I was willing and able to push her away. She would understand in time. Years from now, she will look back at this time and understand. Perhaps she will love me a little more and forgive me. But it doesn't matter.

My love is strong enough for both of us and it will have to be enough.