The Grass Isn't Always Greener

Now, Lila was here, to castigate him, to bring the fight to his workplace.

"I'm not going back to her."

"She's devastated. She didn't know you were going there, or she'd never have had that jerk over. She's not seen him since. She's not seen anyone since" She was pleading for her friend, but the words fell upon deaf ears.

"You knew that sex with others was involved during your separation, Michel. You can't be upset that you walked in on it. You went there, unannounced."

He snorted.

"You can't just walk into somebody's place and expect them to be sitting around like a polite little slave just waiting for you. You should have..."

"It's still my place, Lila. My name is still on the lease. I had every right to go there. Not to mention that less than an hour earlier, she was begging for me to come back. So I went, because I was weak, because I was stupid." He opened the door and put his laptop and text book bag on the passenger seat. "It won't happen again. Go away."

"She needs you, it was a mistake. She thought you had...."

He interrupted her again, the ire in his voice rising, "It doesn't matter what she thought, I just don't care anymore. Now please leave me alone. I have a date tonight, and I don't want it ruined with thoughts of that bitch."

Lila slid from the hood of his car, and went to him wanting to embrace him with a friendly, heartfelt hug, but he shied away. "Please don't touch me Lila. Just go."

Lila shouldn't have been shocked by his attitude, but she couldn't help it. A small gasp escaped her lips as she tried to talk without the burden of emotion. "You could have a date with Hope, she wants you back, she needs you back. She hardly ever stops crying. When she realised that you were there, that you saw them together, she was absolutely gutted.

"Please Michel, don't give up on her. You're a better man than that."

"I said no Lila. Not now, not ever." His hands were trembling even as his voice was firm and unyielding. His words and his body highlighted different emotions, and it was not lost on Lila.

He slid into the driver's seat, and slammed the door shut. Lila shouted at him, but he ignored her as he started his car and drove out of the carpark and away from her. He started to take long, slow, deep breaths. He needed to calm himself, to get his control back.

It was true, he did have a date, with a hot, blonde nurse named Meredith. He'd met her two months after the initial separation, and had dated her a number of times casually. He had also managed to bed her twice. But now, with the door to his and Hope's relationship having been thoroughly closed, locked and nailed to the frame, he had designs of making things more serious with her. His twelve month plan was back on track.

"Maybe she can wear her work uniform?" he thought to himself, turning his frown into a smile as he drove. The anticipation for the evening was exciting him, making him delirious and enthusiastically nervous, more than he had been for a long time.

Lila fished out her phone and called Hope whilst she watched Michel disappear into the distance. "There's still a chance, though he won't admit it. He is hurt, terribly hurt." She heard the soft wail upon the other end, but no more words were spoken before she disconnected.

[ -- ]

Hope's friends continued stalking Michel, a couple times a week at least. It was something that he was all too aware of, he'd seen them many times, they weren't good at the attempted subterfuge. As such, he had been staying later and later in his office, working at school until dusk began to fall, or leaving early to try and avoid whoever was waiting for him, or watching him. He often noticed someone tailing him on his dates, or even following him when he was just meeting with friends. It was becoming unbearable, and inexcusable.

It was early April now, just over a month until the date when the two erstwhile lovers were supposed to meet at The Brown Street Cafe. After walking in on Hope with Tye, he had once again ceased all communication completely. All calls were ended immediately, whether from her or one of her co-conspirators, with more and more numbers now constantly being blocked. He had new email addresses that he used exclusively, only checking the old ones irregularly, and he had unfriended or blocked all the guilty parties on his social media platforms. Indeed, he had gone so far as to almost completely disassociate himself with both Facebook and Instagram, and stayed in contact with his friends through other, more private channels.

Michel had also had himself removed from the lease, much to the chagrin and trauma of Hope. It had been an earlier oversight when he had moved out, but he had decided to let it go, hoping that he may return. Now, that no longer seemed possible or plausible.

Finally, it was his mother, Jean who proved to be the weak link.

"Hi mum," he answered when she had called one evening, "what's up?"

"Please don't hang up, Michel," it was Hope's voice.

With gritted teeth, he held his verbal tirade in check, but didn't respond.

A moment passed, and then another. Hope spoke again. "I just want to ask you a question." She lingered, waiting. Still no response. "Michel, are you still there?"

He grunted.

"Michel, I just need to know... I just need to know if you still intend to meet me next month. That's all." Hope was desperately begging, imploring the man that she still loved, who she hoped still loved her. "Will you be there? At midday?"

She heard a sigh, deep with resignation and regret.

"Please Michel. I miss you. I miss us. I need you back with me."

"Yes." One word before he ended the call. But his head swum with the insinuation and audacity of her contact, the entitlement of it. He was most aggrieved from where it originated. He instantly called his father.

It rang only once before being picked up.

"Hello Michel," his father, Francois answered with a hint of cautiousness. "I know you're upset, but your mother..." It was as far as he got.

"I told you and mum to stay out of this. And now that slut is calling from mum's phone?" Michel was livid as he barked down the phone.

"Son, she's here with us right now," Francois' voice dropped to barely a whisper, but it remained anxious even as it was filled with warmth and love, "she's been coming around here for a couple of weeks now. I know, we promised to stay out of this when you two postponed your wedding, but she's afraid. She's scared son, scared you don't want her back. She's miserable, lonely and afraid. She hasn't been seeing anyone for a while now."

"And what if I don't want her back?" demanded Michel. "What if I've moved on? What if I don't think I can trust her? More than that, I know I can't trust her. You have no right!"

He heard her then, in the background, speaking with his mother before the voices suddenly stopped, and a faint query "Michel?" was spoken by one of them.

"Michel, I know that you're hurting. But don't let your pride get in the way of your happiness. Until this all happened, you were the happiest that I had ever seen you. You and Hope, we all know you're meant to be together. You've both had some time apart, and you've both hurt each other, but now it's time to....."

That was as far as he got. Michel disconnected from his father, and then proceeded to block both his parents' numbers.

"FUCK!" he screamed. Could he trust nobody?

When he finally returned to Jason's, his friend was waiting for him with a cold beer and a smirk. Michel nearly threw his bags across the room, he was still worked-up, coiled tight and ready to explode. He didn't even say a word to Jason as he snatched the beer from him and proceeded to skoll it all. It burned his throat slightly with the bitter taste, and wonderful chill. He threw the bottle in the trash, as Jason handed him another which then suffered the same fate.

"Your mum called here."

"Fuck them." Michel sneered as he went in search of a third drink.

"I get it, but don't let it upset you. You're happy aren't you? With the plan, with your progress. That old life, is it done and buried? Do what you need to do, what you want.. Don't let this knock you back down." Jason patted him on the back, to both give comfort as well as a gentle reminder that this was the way that Michel had always expected it to go, what he had considered all those months ago.

"If you're going to be this upset now, then what has all the earlier pain been for?"

Michel nodded. "I'm not upset about Hope fucking around, not anymore. It's the boundaries that she's crossing. My parents, my work, my friends, my dates. She just keeps disrespecting me at every turn. I had asked her to respect my wishes for twelve months. Just twelve months." This time, he sipped the beer slowly as a smile spread across his face. "But I am happy. Really, I am. I'm happy I've got a great job, good friends and hopefully a beautiful, loving girl waiting at the end of it. I'm happy that this whole thing will be over shortly, and I can face my future"

"Want to go out? The boys can meet us at The Crown." Jason loved The Crown and Squire, the local pub that was within walking distance of his flat.

"Sounds great. Let me finish this one first," he laughed as he took another sip of his third beer in the last ten minutes. The Crown would most likely have a live band tonight to go with the overly expensive schooners. But if his friends were going to be there, and as it was a Friday night, why the hell not? He could sleep all day tomorrow with the hangover he was bound to have, and nobody would care.

He finished his drink, and changed into jeans, a Midnight Oil T-shirt and some casual shoes whilst Jason kept babbling about his newest girlfriend. Since the acrimonious and disastrous collapse of his relationship with Stacie, Jason hadn't wanted anything more than casual dalliances for light companionship and hard sex. Jason was a man burnt badly, and happy now to hop from bed to bed. He hadn't stayed with any woman for more than three months, but was always honest with his new partners about his lack of long-term commitment. His relationship with Heidi was new, in its second week, and he was clearly still in the stages of wanting to see her and be with her, though Michel knew that soon he would cast her aside like all the others.

The walk to The Crown would take about ten minutes, and take them past the local 'greasy spoon' takeaway. As Michel hadn't eaten yet, and was down three beers already, Jason pushed him inside. It wouldn't hurt to have something on their stomachs before the heavy night that lay ahead.

"Two chiko rolls, two battered fish and four bucks of chips thanks," Jason gave the order to the daughter of the Vietnamese couple that ran the place, handing over a twenty. "Keep the change, get yourself something nice." She was young, maybe fourteen or fifteen, incredibly skinny, bordering on anorexic and was a real chatterbox. She could speak English well though, something her parents struggled with, and so most evenings she was to be found taking the orders and translating for her workaholic parents. Jason and Michel felt sorry for her, always working long hours at such a tender age. Furthermore, as a teacher, Michel feared for her education. Her hours would allow hardly any time for study or assessments.

"Michel," the girl motioned towards him as she spoke. "That woman was here again last night."

Michel felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

"She asked how often you were in here, and when you usually went to the pub."

He sighed and sat heavily in one of the flimsy looking but surprisingly strong white plastic chairs that lined the wall. "I don't believe this. I just don't believe this. Why can't they leave me alone?"

The woman was most likely Trisha. She lived nearby, and it was only a short drive to get here. She had popped up on more than one occasion at The Crown, and seemed to be staking out the fish & chip shop as well. Maybe he thought, ceasing all communication had been a mistake, maybe if he had kept it going, it would have stopped the stalking and harassment.

"Don't let it get to you, buddy." Jason pushed the newspaper wrapped food into Michel's hands. "It's almost over, then you can get back to living. Right?"

Michel wasn't so sure, and merely sounded a mixture of a grunt and sigh.

"This twelve month period was your idea, remember Michel. And anyway, however this works out, you've been knocking back that hot nurse for a bit now, not to mention there was that admin lady from your school. She was a bit alright. And what about that fit young PE teacher. I mean, PHWOAR!" Michel didn't seem to be convinced, so Jason continued. "You and Hope, well, look I get it, it's not been happy sailing. She got some guys, but you got some girls. Take that as the win it is. Don't worry about the other crap, that's just them getting desperate. You've still got a month before you need to work out what you're going to do, if you're going to stick with Hope, or move on. Either way, trust yourself and ignore them."

Jason took a bite of one of the chiko rolls. The large, greasy, deep fried spring roll-like snack had already made the waxy paper sleeve partially transparent. "Oh, uh, uh, oh, fuck." he cried out, "fuckin' hot!" he waved his hand in front of his mouth, as though it would magically put out the fire within, leaving Michel to laugh raucously. From behind the counter, the girl and her mother also joined in the laughter at Jason's expense.

It took them about fifteen minutes to eat their meal of grease, oil, salt and so many carbs, during which Jason spoke at length about Heidi.

"I think she might be the one." Jason wore a dream-like expression upon his face, and hadn't seemed this excited or optimistic about a woman since Penny five months ago. She had lasted a full six weeks before Jason had just decided one morning that he didn't like the way she snored. The irony of that made Michel cringe. Jason snored like a rusty robot juggling poorly tuned chainsaws. He was so loud that he could easily be heard from another room and through two closed doors.

"I think I want to be exclusive with her, Michel. I want an actual relationship with her." He looked at Michel who was busy stuffing the last few chips into his mouth and grinned. "Is it inappropriate to propose after only two weeks?"

Michel almost choked on his chips, causing Jason to laugh now.

"I'm joking, Michel." The muttered response of 'phew' was short-lived as Jason continued. "I'm going to wait until 3 weeks at least." He playfully punched Michel on the bicep.

"Come on casanova. There might be another girl at The Crown that wants a piece of you." Jason laughed at his friend. "Let's get you a few more pussies before your leave is revoked."

Michel slugged him back lightly, as they sauntered out towards the pub, towards the booze, and maybe towards something more exotic.

The Crown was indeed hosting a live band that night, 'Shadow Boxer'. They were a cover band of The Angels, but played many songs of other well known Australian acts as well. Their rendition of Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again in particular got rousing support from the burgeoning crowd, as that song always did. And Michel found himself shouting out the unofficial extra lyrics at the top of his voice, along with everyone else in attendance.

"Am I ever gonna see your face again?" queried the singer as he enthusiastically mirrored the late, great Doc Neeson's lyrical quality.

"NO WAY GET FUCKED FUCK OFF!" Shouted the crowd in response. Over and over, the back and forth continued. In a way, it was cathartic. The song's lyrics were mournful, about lost love. But the crowd responded on behalf of the one who had gotten away, and Michel felt it then, felt the words resonate deep within him. Who was he going to be? The one pining and being left alone, or the one escaping.

As the last notes drawled on, and the crowd began to cheer, Michel felt someone reach around him from behind, pulling him into an unsolicited embrace. Faintly delicate hands gripped him as soft breasts pushed into his back. He froze as he considered the worst possible scenario. A sidelong glance to one of his friends, Chaz, told him that it was bad.

"Hope," he began as she spun him around.

But it wasn't Hope. Instead, he looked into the pretty face of Trisha. Her blonde hair was swept back, and she wore an old and faded ACDC tee underneath a man's red and black checked flannelette shirt, which she wore unbuttoned but tied around the waist. The end result pushed her large, soft breasts up even more. A torturously tight pair of jeans and knee high FMBS completed her pub getup. She pushed him to arms length now, holding him more discreetly and appropriately..

"You've got a good voice for a drunk, Michel." She spoke coyly with a smirk upon her lips. "Will you dance with me?" She saw his hesitation almost before he made it. "I won't talk about Hope, I promise. I just wanna dance. I might be Hope's friend, but I still like to think I'm your friend as well. I just saw you here, and well, times past, you'd be dancing with me already."

It was true, Hope was never much of a dancer, but Trisha loved it, and often he'd end up accompanying her to the floor if she was between beaus. But now, he stared blankly at her, still unsure how to respond. Trisha though didn't wait for an answer, and took his lack of one as implicit acceptance. Not that it would have mattered, she wasn't about to take no for an answer anyway.

As the band broke into their next piece, a driving, thumping cover of The Poor's hit song More Wine Waiter Please, she dragged him to the small and tightly packed dance floor. Trisha held him gently around the waist as she started to shake back and forth, flinging her hair about as she headbanged to the barrelling riff. Michel went with the flow, still shocked and more than a little perturbed by the changing events. Trisha exuded sex appeal and yet still had an elegant and natural charm about her. As the one song finished, he found himself staying with her for another and another. Her smile grew, as did the bulge in his pants, but deep down, he knew that this was wrong. This was clearly just another reconnaissance mission and he began to grow annoyed at the temerity of her actions.

Finally, he pushed her away, and started to walk back to his friends, but she grabbed his arm and held on for all her worth.

"Michel, please."

He removed her hands easily enough, shaking his head as he did so. "You all need to stop stalking me. The more you do it, the less inclined I feel about meeting back up with Hope. You're actually achieving the opposite of what you want."

She leaned into him yelling, "What?" The band had started another song, and hearing each other speak had become almost impossible.

Michel sighed, and motioned for Trisha to follow him outside. He needed to have this conversation, he needed to get her and the others off his back. Their continued interference in his life was unacceptable. He had come here with his friends to have fun, to unwind and not think about anything in particular. He definitely didn't want to relieve painful memories and his broken heart. Trisha nodded back at his gesture, and clutching at his arm once more followed him out. As they passed Jason, he smiled knowingly and winked suggestively, gaining him an angry scowl from Michel.

"Trisha, this isn't ok." He reprimanded the woman as they stood outside The Crown, the noise from the band still thumping away inside, but no longer deafening.

"No Michel, it's not." That shook him, he hadn't expected her to respond in that manner, to agree so readily with him.

He was confused. Very confused. "What's your game then, Trisha? What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, making her breasts bounce. In the clear light, and without the jostling of the crowd inside, Michel's eyes were drawn to her chest, and he realised that she was most likely without a bra underneath. He shuddered at the thought. "What are you doing?"