The Museum Piece

"You'd never understand Blake, you don't seem to care about anything but the sex. We've had good times together, let's leave it at that. You're leaving me anyway."

"Maybe you should just leave now, go home, we wouldn't have to see each other again."

"NO!" she exclaimed as she hit his chest with the side of her balled-up fist, "You are NOT going to just kick me to the curb after what you've done to me! It was you that was worried about ruining me for other men, well you've done it. No man will ever satisfy me as you do. You have ruined me. RUINED ME!"

He wrapped his arms around her, mainly to keep her from hitting him again. She still beat softly against his chest and began to cry. "May God damn you, Blake, I wish we'd never met. Why did you have to pursue me that day, why were you in The Met, and why did I agree to drinks? Why did I let myself fall in love with you? You're an evil son of a bitch."

Her words felt like a knife through Blake's chest. He had meant no harm to her that evening. When she did agree to drinks he was not at all confident that it would end in his bed. Then a one-night stand turned into nearly a week of sex, and that week had turned into a once-a-month habit. Twice he had suggested that they stop seeing each other but could he? Or was he just trying to salve his conscience? Sex with Marissa was mind-blowing. He had done things with Marissa that he had never done with his Calista. He had been lured in by the sex and had not considered emotions, all he wanted was to spill himself into Marissa as often as possible, to hell with any collateral damage. Then she used the L-word. She's right, he thought, I'm an evil son of a bitch. Not intentionally but I am one nonetheless. Typical man, thinking with my penis.

He had no idea what to say or how to rescue this situation. He'd broken her heart and that realization broke his heart as well. While driving headlong toward the ultimate sexual satisfaction he had failed to recognize not only her emotions but also his. He often found himself thinking about her at random times, wondering what she was doing at that moment. Often when shopping he'd think to himself Marissa would like that. Then there was the dream, they were doing such a normal couple thing. She had stopped crying by now.

"I didn't realize you had such strong feelings for me, you've never said you love me until just now."

"That's because you don't think of me as anything other than a warm place to sheath your cock, you never have." She pushed him away and went into the house. He heard the bedroom door slam.

He decided that it was time for a walk. Retrieving a flashlight from the kitchen he walked past the main house and found the path that wandered up the hill. Near the top of the hill was a Laurel tree, and underneath the tree was a stone. Calista, Most Beautiful, it said. Under the stone lay the cremains of his love, buried in her beloved Greece, and next to the stone was a bench. He sat there under the overhanging Laurel branches, the herbaceous aroma hung thick in the air that night, and he talked to her. It was always a one-sided conversation but it never failed to be cathartic. He told her about his decision to retire and finally join her at the vineyard . . . and he told her about Marissa, the whole sordid story. The more he talked the more he realized how much he was hurting. Talking out loud to his wife, the tangled mess of emotions that he had been feeling for so long fell apart and lay around him, like desiccated vines from the vineyard, and he was left staring at the undeniable truth. Finally free of the bonds that felt as if they would strangle him at times, bonds that had grown roots in his bones, he sat there for a long time, sobbing. Relieved of the bonds it was suddenly clear to him what he had to do. Ending the conversation, he spoke words that he had never used before, "I always loved you." Blake walked down the hill and into the darkened guest house. That night slept on the sofa and cried himself to sleep again.

The next morning he made her breakfast in bed. She begrudgingly thanked him and he left the room. A bit later, after he'd eaten his breakfast in the kitchen, he heard the shower. While she showered he cleaned up the kitchen and did dishes then made another pot of coffee. After about an hour she came into the kitchen, she stopped and looked around. "Well, you've cleaned up this mess but what are you doing about the other mess? The mess you've made of my heart."

He poured them both a cup of coffee and asked her to sit at the table with him.

"First off, I need to sincerely apologize. It was never my intention to hurt you. My only thought was to show you that there are great men and great lovers in this fucked up world. I felt, and I still feel, that you deserve to find love like the love I had with Calista. Stupidly, I tried to show you there are guys worth your time by charging headlong into pursuit of the best sex you've ever had. And every month I've tried to outdo the last. Not once did I consider your emotions. I pop in once a month and wham bam thank you, ma'am, then I disappear, no consideration of what happens after I leave. I figured if I could avoid developing feelings for you, then you could do the same."

"That's a pretty accurate description of what's happening. I'm not yet ready to accept your apology though."

He nodded, "I understand. But here's the thing, Marissa: I didn't stop to consider my feelings either. Last night I realized just how deeply I've hurt you. That realization shocked me and hurt me to my core. It made me think about what I'd done, and how we got here. I feel terrible, ashamed in fact. But here's the thing . . . I realize now that I have feelings for you. I think about you all the time, hell I even had a dream about us on a picnic in Central Park. You've become a habit Marissa, someone I can't do without."

"So you say you have feelings for me, are those feelings lust, or are they love? Can you not do without me or can you not do without my pussy? Which is it, Blake? Do you want a relationship or do you want a sex toy?"

"After losing Calista I told myself I'd never love another woman, and I've actively avoided putting myself in situations where I might develop feelings. I can't deny that I have feelings for you but still, I was hurting from the loss Calista. My emotions were all confused."

"Join the club. I'm distracted when you're gone but I'm giddy as a schoolgirl when I'm with you. There's no doubt in my heart that I am in love with you Blake, and I hate you for that."

"I hate myself for hurting you and feeling so emotionally confused. But here's the thing, Marissa, I'm no longer confused."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain this afternoon, but first, I need to clean up and make a trip to town," he took her hand and looked deep into her eyes, "Promise me you will not leave, I'm afraid that if you do, it will be a decision that we'll both regret."

She looked into his eyes, trying to understand what was happening, what had come over him in the night. She saw happiness where she'd only seen pain and sadness before. It was as if dark drapes had fallen away, letting the sun into the room.

"I promise," she whispered, smiling softly at him.

Blake showered and dressed, and on his way out the door, he kissed Marissa. "Remember your promise. I'll be gone for a few hours but I need you to be here when I get back." And with that, he was gone.

He knew exactly where to go, he'd been there once with Calista, years ago. It was a small shop in Athens. He parked down the block and found the door, "Aphrodite" it said. Entering the shop, he was greeted by the proprietor.

After examining what the shop had to offer, and ruminating a bit, he selected his purchase.

"If all goes well, I'll be back tomorrow," he said as he paid the man.

On the drive back to the vineyard Blake felt almost giddy, an emotion he hadn't felt in several years. When he arrived back at the vineyard his heart raced at the sight of Marissa in the doorway of the guest house.

"Let's pack a picnic lunch, I need to show you something." Hand in hand he walked Marissa up the path until they arrived a the Laurel tree and stood quietly. She wrapped her arm around him.

"Is she here?" Marissa whispered.

"Yes," he said, "buried in her beloved Greece, her cremains at least."

"What did she look like Blake?"

"Like a Greek goddess. That gorgeous light brown Mediterranean complexion; long, thick, and curly dark-brown hair. She was curvaceous like a mountain road. She had the most beautiful face, a classic sharp jawline, and a long slim nose. She turned heads wherever she went. She could have had any man she wanted but for some reason she chose me."

Marissa hugged him. "I think she chose well."

"I'm glad you think that way," he said and he took her hand again, "let's go lay out this picnic, we're not far from where I want to go."

"Why not here? It's shaded and the view of the vineyard is so nice."

"No, this is not the proper place," he told her. They walked up the hill for several minutes and finally reached the summit. They stood beneath the shade of an old olive tree and could see the ocean in the distance.

"Breathtaking, is this hilltop yours?"

"Yes, this ridge is the end of it though." He spread out the cloth and unpacked the meal. They sat there enjoying the day and each other's company.

"You've done well for yourself Blake, this is a beautiful property."

"It is," he said, "but with no one to share it with it seems wasted. Calista would have loved this place."

"You'll find someone, you'll get settled in here and you'll find a woman. Just don't introduce her to Milos," she said with a laugh.

"You like Milos?"

"The entire episode with Milos would have never happened if you'd told me you cared for me. You kept pushing me away, and believe it or not, I can be a vindictive bitch. Why do you think I came home with their seed inside me and then had sex with you?" she laughed. "And sweet little pussy-whipped Blake was overjoyed to add himself to the mix inside me."

"Not my proudest moment I admit, and I agree that I'm pussy-whipped. No man could help but lust after you once you've given yourself to them."

"You're a fantastic lover, Blake," she blushed, "I'm going to miss you."

"What if you didn't have to miss me, Marissa?"

"What, come live with you here? What would I do about my business? I can't just leave, people rely on me for their livelihood."

"Marissa, ever since we met I've been entranced by you. Calista was the most beautiful woman I've ever been with, but you, you rival her beauty. You are more beautiful than you know Marissa, and one of the most intriguing things about you is that you don't seem to understand that. I see it, I see the men that watch you as we walk down the street, I see the desire in their eyes. If they only knew the sensual touch of your lips, the erotic feeling of being in you, they would chase you to the ends of the Earth. I know those feelings, I can never let you go, Marissa."

She blushed, "Are you trying to get in my pants, Blake? Do you want to take me right here?"

He chuckled, "I will not deny that making love to you right here would be amazing, but that's not why I'm telling you this."

He paused and looked at the ocean. "When we fought last night I went to see Calista. I told her about us, everything, the sex, the hurt . . . my feelings. Talking through things with her I realized that I have to let her go. She's never coming back, no matter how long I shut down my feelings for other women. I realized that she was not the love of my life, she was the love of my life so far. I need to stop looking back at what I had, and move forward to find my next great love."

"I told you that you'll find someone Blake, and I believe so will I. We both need to move on."

"No Marissa, you don't understand. I don't want to move on, I can't move on. All I can do is move forward from here. You say I've ruined you for other men, well, you've ruined me as well. You are the next best thing for me, the closest woman to my Calista that I've ever been with."

He stood and took her hand to help her up, then reached into the basket for the ring he'd purchased in Athens.

"Marissa Morgan, I love you," He began, "You are the only woman in this world that I want to be with. The beauty of this place, just like the beauty of other women, pales in comparison to you. I long for you Marissa, and here in this place I pledge my heart, my body, my soul to you if you will have me." He showed her the ring. "Marissa Morgan, will you be my wife?"

His question took her breath. She shook as she reached out her left hand. "Yes, Blake, I will be your wife. I want nothing in this world more than to be with you and only you. I pledge my heart, body, and soul to you here in this beautiful place. I will be yours, Blake."

He slid the ring on her finger and she wrapped her arms around him and began sobbing tears of joy. They held each other for a long time, relishing the moment. Eventually, she gathered herself.

"The ring is beautiful Blake, it's perfect."

"I'm glad you approve of my taste in jewelry, I'll be buying you more over the years. It appears a bit loose, so we'll drive to Athens tomorrow to have it sized for your delicate fingers."

She stepped close to him and whispered, "Make love to me Blake, for the first time truly make love to me, right here on this spot, take me and make me your beloved and not just your lover."

They embraced and kissed. Undressing each other, they kissed skin as they exposed it. He laid her back on the picnic cloth and kissed her all over starting at her earlobes and working his way down to her toes. Changing places she kissed his jaw and down his neck and chest then down his stomach. She took him in her hands and brought him to full hardness then took him in her mouth. It was some of the most sensual moments they had ever experienced with each other. As he laid back she mounted him, he felt her velvet walls engulf him and he moaned.

"I love you, Blake," she said between kisses.

"And I love you, Marissa," he said in return.

They took each other and consummated their love there in the shade of the olive tree. Finally spent, they lay in each other's arms.

"We should go," he told her after their breathing had slowed, "I have one more thing to do. You may think this is silly but I need to tell Calista."

"It's not silly, it's beautiful," she said, "I want to go with you."

They repacked the basket and started down the trail back to the Laurel tree. When they arrived he set the basket on the bench and Marissa sat next to it. Kneeling at the stone, he spoke lovingly.

"My sweet Calista, I miss you so. My love for you will never end but my love of you must. For so long I have shut my heart away, the thought of trying to replace you was unbearable. But I have found someone, my love. A woman of incredible beauty that loves me and satisfies me beyond measure . . . and I love her. She makes me happy and fulfilled my love. Today we have pledged ourselves to each other and I plan to spend the rest of my life with her."

He touched the stone momentarily as if touching her face. Marissa knelt next to him and surprised him by speaking to Calista.

"Calista, I am Marissa. For so many years I have sought true love. When I met Blake and he talked of you he was describing exactly what I wanted, forever love. He still loves you and I understand that and I accept it. I swear to God that I will never be jealous of his love for you and I will honor your place in his life. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone. He loves me and satisfies me beyond measure. I want nothing in this world more than to spend the rest of my life with him. He was the love of your life and now I need him to be the love of mine."

They rose and stood silently for a while.

"We need to plant some flowers here under the Laurel tree, a small garden for me to share with Calista like she is sharing you with me," whispered Marissa.

"You are an amazing woman Marissa Anderson, simply amazing."

They kissed under the Laurel tree before walking down the hill toward the vineyard and their new life together. On the bench sat a beautiful woman with an olive complexion and long curly hair, she looked like a Greek goddess, and she smiled at the couple as they walked away.

Epilogue

Thirty years to the day that Blake proposed to her, she found herself under the Laurel tree once again, sitting on the bench. She had come here often over the years she'd spent living with Blake at the vineyard, often tending to the flower garden that she had planted, but sometimes just sitting. Next to her today was a sweaty young man who appeared to be a local in his mid-twenties. The young man was on his knees next to a hole, and he was gently placing an urn into the ground. Settling the urn in the hole he covered it with soil and then struggled to slide a stone over it. The stone was newer and larger than the one that had been there. On the stone were the words Calista - Most Beautiful and Blake - Beloved Husband.

"I don't understand this, Mom, why are half of Dad's ashes here with her and the other half in the house with you?"

She sat for a bit, just smiling at her adopted son. She patted the bench next to her and he sat down.

"You know how your father and I love you even though you're not of our blood? It's a bit like that, but yet not even close," she said to him softly.

"She was your father's first love, and he loved her more deeply than you can understand right now. Hopefully, someday you'll have a love like that. An all-consuming love. When your father proposed to me as we picnicked on the ridge, we came here to tell her, and I swore that day to honor her place in his life. That is why I tend this flower garden, and that is what we are doing today. I'm sure they're already back together but mixing their ashes is a physical representation of the love they share. Someday, when I pass, will be your responsibility to reunite me and the rest of your father with them and scatter us over the vineyard."

They sat there a moment longer as Marissa gazed at the stone. She felt an odd sense of happiness that replaced the intense sorrow she felt when she lost Blake just a month prior. They'd had a long life together, they had raised the young man sitting next to her, and now it was time to let Blake go. Raising her hand to the young man she asked him to take her back to the house. He took her hand and helped her rise from the bench.

As Marissa and her son walked slowly down the hill toward home, a young couple stood in the shadows of the Laurel three, holding hands and smiling.