The Rose Garden

Peta/Sam

Act 1, Chapter 5

"Put it back in, Sam," Peta teased. "I want you at least twice more today before Hans comes back."

Grinning, Sam lifted his dick up into her pussy and started to sway his hips against her buttocks. Peta moaned, holding onto the edge of the table, bent over and enjoying the stiff, girthy dick inside her. "Ja, ja, ja," she said softly, Sam's pounding against her thrilling her.

"Can I come in you again?" Sam asked, gritting his teeth as he held on while he fucked her.

Peta was beyond caring, she was in the throes of ecstasy. "Ja," she said, "come in me." She rubbed her clit furiously as Sam, grunting hard, finally finished within her. Peta giggled and laughed as she felt him stiffen, his ejaculate spraying up and into her. She came too, spraying the floor a little, and turned to look at him, hungry for more.

"We've barely done anything else but fuck," Sam remarked, pulling her close to him on the sofa. The trail of clothes and come scattered across the floor was a good indicator.

Peta slid herself under his arm and gazed up at him. "Is it any wonder, when we enjoy it so much?" she asked.

"Yes," Sam responded, "but don't you remember when we used to talk...learn about each other. Like favorite color..."

"Blue," Peta responded. "But not sky blue, deep blue. Yours," she said, smiling, "is apple green. Like that old steam train of yours."

Sam laughed. "You remembered," he said, hugging her tightly and kissing her forehead.

"I remember everything," Peta said to him. "You prefer lying on the left side of the bed to the right, you check the door is locked by pulling the handle three times, you like your steak rare, and your wine red, you support Charnwood County Football Club, and you are afraid of bees."

Sam looked down at her with a soft expression, puppy dog eyes. "I've never loved someone so much as you," he said. "Why can't we be together?"

Peta hesitated. "Maybe we can be," she said. "I looked into divorce lawyers. It might take some time, but..." She looked at Sam hopefully, "maybe you've thought about it too?"

"I dumped Agnese in Vegas," Sam said. "I did it by text. It was easy."

Peta stared at him. "Really?"

"The moment you asked me," Sam said.

It was beginning to dawn on Peta.

"Have you always felt this way about me?" she asked.

"Always," Sam responded. "Ever since I saw you on that beach in Greece. You've always been on my mind."

Peta just stared. She couldn't believe anyone could love her that much. "But I'm not special," she protested.

"Yeah, you are," Sam said. "You're articulate, hardworking, you have a range of interests. Like motorbikes, that was such a turn-on," he said, tickling her under her breast to make her giggle. "You've always loved history, something we share, and food..."

"...yes, food," Peta laughed, holding his stomach.

"Look, Pet," Sam said, gazing into her eyes once more. "I'm always going to be thinking of you. Doesn't matter how much time passes or how far away you are. I've never been able to let go of you."

"Sam... I don't know what to say," Peta rested her head on his chest, her blonde hair draping his naked frame. "No one has ever said these things to me."

Sam hesitated. "If that's true, why did you carry on with Hans? Why did you marry him?"

Peta looked up at him once more. "Sam... it wasn't that easy to say no to him. We got engaged young... it was expected of us... now everyone thinks we should be having children..."

"Heir and the spare," Sam said bitterly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peta asked.

"You make yourselves sound like you were members of the royal family," Sam said angrily. "Like you didn't have a choice, you couldn't have just said no, broken up with him, and been with me, or anyone else."

"What do you want from me?" She asked, exasperated.

"I want you to admit that you made the wrong choice," Sam said.

"What?"

"It should have been me, Peta. It should have been me, from the beginning. The boy from the beach. The man who spent the last twelve years running all over the world for you, with you, holding out for you..."

"You think I couldn't have gotten anyone else? There were plenty! But I only ever had eyes for you, only you, forever you..." he paused.

"Always you."

Peta's eyes were shining, wet, and tears were starting to form.

"I NEVER stopped loving you. Never," Sam said, wiping her tears away.

"Okay, it's true. I made the wrong choice," Peta replied. "But you pushed me then for an answer I couldn't give, and you'd asking me to do the same now. I'm married, it's complicated, we could be lovers forever and we'd be happy."

"I wouldn't be happy," Sam said. "I don't want to be your bit on the side. What happens if Hans tomorrow says, let's get pregnant? Well?"

"Sam..." Peta said, shocked.

"No really, what if he says that? Will you tell him about us?"

She couldn't answer.

"That's made my mind up," Sam said, getting up and walking away.

"Sam?" Peta called. He returned a few minutes later, fully dressed, his blue satchel packed and slung over his brown leather jacket. He threw her robe to her.

"Come and say goodbye, I'm getting the bus back to Vienna," he said.

"Sam, no," Peta protested, putting her robe around her, "let's talk about this."

"You were asking about divorce only twenty minutes ago, and now you can't commit to telling Hans about us to get out of being pregnant with him," Sam threw his words back at her.

"Sam, no..."

"So what, what if it was my child?" He said defiantly. "You'd break up with him then, right?"

"Sam.."

He stared at her, amazed. "That wasn't an instant yes?"

"How is it an instant yes for you?"

"Because you're the only woman I ever wanted to carry my children," Sam found himself shouting, frustrated, angry. "How is it not the same for you, for me?"

Peta just looked at him, quiet, unsure.

"Look, I'm heading back here next month. I'll see you in the Rose Garden. You can tell me then what you think after you've seen Hans," Sam said. "I'll respect whatever you say," he said, softening.

"Please stay," Peta said, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

Sam turned back to her. "I can't, I'm sorry."

Peta let go and stepped out onto the driveway, watching Sam march down the hill, into the road, and turn right, past the trees, and out of sight.

She ran back to the house and dressed quickly, throwing on her jeans and a blue crop top before grabbing her old brown knee highs and running to the garage. She threw the door open. Her car was gone.

"Dammit, mutter!" She cursed. Then she had an idea, and went to the back of the garage.

***

Sam was waiting at the bus stop. Thoughts of Peta swirled around his head. He felt anxious, panicky. What had he said? Why had he said it? "Never rock the boat," his dad had always told him. "Always approach it when calmer." Calmer! How was that calmer? Oh god, oh god, oh god... He put his head in his hands and yelled angrily. There was a loud "MEEP MEEEEP" and he looked up the road.

The old motorbike burbled down next to him, its black paintwork gleaming. Peta lifted her visor. She was a vision, wearing her old leathers and her helmet. "Get on. I'll drop you into the city."

Sam pouted.

"Come on, Sam," Peta pleaded. "It's me."

Sam raised his eyebrows, rolled his eyes, and then stepped out, grabbing the spare helmet from the seat, and climbing on behind her.

"Put your hands there. No," Peta laughed, "Not there. Off my boobies."

Sam winked at her when she looked back.

"You're too cheeky for words," she said. "I don't think we have a word in German for someone like you."

She revved the bike, checked her mirrors, and then turned into the empty road, heading for Vienna.

It was a good hour in the rush hour traffic, but Peta got him there, near their favorite coffee shop, by the cathedral. The sky was darkening quickly, and by the time they parked up, the lights across the city were on, bright, and shining above them. She stepped off the bike and pulled him close to her.

"I'll see you next month."

Sam melted. "Yeah, you will," he said, embracing her back. He drew her close and kissed her, long and hard. "I love you."

Peta smiled. "You too," she said, gently caressing his cheek. "Stay safe."

He watched her remount, replace her helmet, rev the old Vincent, and then watched until she was out of sight, amongst the hustle and bustle of Vienna at night.

***

Sam walked into the cafe. It hadn't changed; it was still a cheery Austrian 1970s interior with beige walls, crocheted table covers, and photographs showing bits of Vienna in older times. He ordered his usual, a mocha with extra chocolate dust and cream, and sat down. He was in no rush to sit in the draughty Vienna airport.

He pulled out his sketch pad and looked through his recent building doodles. There was one that stood out to him, a reasonably sized tower block of apartments intended for West London.

Since the awful Grenfell Tower disaster, architects were taking better note of emergency exits, time taken to get out, and any flaws in the overall design. Sam felt there was a way to make it far easier and had sketched out a tower where the emergency staircases were an intrinsic part of the aesthetic design.

He sighed, looking at the drawing. It just looked like a lollipop. It was awful. Insulting, actually. He felt a twinge of anger towards himself and rubbed out the pencil lines.

"Sam?"

He looked up. A familiar blonde man stood before him. "Christophe!"

He stood up and shook Christophe's hand. "This is a small world, what on earth are you doing here?"

"I live here," Christophe said, sitting down next to him. "What are you doing here?"

Sam laughed. "My lover lives nearby, just outside Vienna."

"What a coincidence," Christophe said, beckoning to the waitress, asking for a beer, "I have just got back from being away with my lover."

"Yes... about that," Sam hesitated. Did he tell him? In that moment, he didn't think he could. "How was Vegas?"

"Fantastic," Christophe beamed, "Hans and I had such fun! We have been looking forward to this for so long. He didn't spend much time with her, so I had no need to be jealous. Thank you for that drink; that really helped that evening."

Sam raised his mocha, and Christophe chinked his beer against it.

"What's next for you?" Christophe asked.

"So, I broke up with Agnese, and I decided to come back and try to talk her into being with me. We actually had a bit of an argument today," Sam said sadly. "But, it ended better and I think I know what I need to do now."

"Ja?"

"There's this ring I need to go and fetch, and next month I will come back to Vienna." The words rang in his head. He was really doing this.

"In which case, I wish you all the luck in the world, my friend," Christophe said.

***

"Hey, you're back," Peta greeted her husband warmly as he walked through the door. Hans scooped her up into his arms and gave her a kiss, one of his large hands grabbing her directly between the legs. "I missed this, I want this," Hans said, a little too convincingly.

She hated it when he did this but played along. He clearly wanted her, right now. It had been a while, but it was his fault; he worked on the oil rig after all.

"I haven't had my pill for a few weeks. I need to go and get them from the pharmacy," Peta told Hans.

"So maybe this is a sign we should start doing this then," Hans said to her.

"Hmmm?" Peta said.

"Trying to get pregnant," Hans said. Peta froze.

"Ja... I guess... we should," she replied. Her mind was racing. He picked her up and put her on the kitchen counter, pulled her underwear away from under her dress, unzipped his jeans, and placed his dick in front of her. Peta couldn't say no and felt uncomfortable as he penetrated her.

"Das fühlt sich nicht richtig an, Hans," Peta whispered, her voice strained with unease.

Hans, feigning arousal, responded in a husky tone, "Aber Liebling, du machst mich so heiß." His words were a facade, masking the truth of their fractured intimacy.

As their bodies moved in a dance of deception, Peta forced a moan, pretending to reach a false climax. "Ja, genau, weiter," she gasped, the words laden with a mix of longing and deceit.

With her eyes closed, Peta's mind drifted to Sam, his image haunting her thoughts as Hans filled her body. Every thrust, every rough grab of her breasts, every moment that Hans was forcing himself on her, she thought of Sam.

He was grunting harder and starting to hurt her a little with his force. Not in the passionate way Sam would do, but in a military-like, let's get this done sort of way. She wracked her brains, trying to think of some excuse to prevent this happening, but she had no time to react.

As Hans released himself inside her, Peta's facade crumbled, her mind consumed by thoughts of the man who truly ignited her passion.

"Ja, das ist gut," Hans said, pulling out from Peta, and grabbing some kitchen roll to mop up his dick.

Peta sat forward on the counter, feeling his come drip out of her. She didn't feel in control, like she had left her body and was looking down on herself, observing everything.

She waited until Hans left for the bathroom before allowing her tears to flow, a mix of guilt and desire washing over her. She put her hands down and felt his come. "What have I done," she whispered. She knew this wouldn't be the last time either; getting pregnant wouldn't be a one-time and done thing.

The kitchen bore witness to the tangled web of emotions that consumed Peta, a silent testament to the forbidden love that burned within her.

***

"Hans?"

Hans' face appeared, bright red, from under the sheets. "Peta... it's not what you think!"

Peta walked over to the bed and ripped the sheet off him. "Oh mein Gott!"

Christophe lay there, naked, timid. "Gutentag."

"Get. OUT," Peta said quietly.

Christophe jumped up and grabbed his clothes, only looking back at Hans before disappearing down the stairs. The sounds of him hastily dressing ended with the slamming of the front door, followed by silence.

"How long has this been going on?" Peta folded her arms.

"You are taking this rather well," Hans remarked.

"Don't play with me, Hans. How long has this been going on?"

He hesitated. "I've known him since I was a boy. We grew up together."

"So did we!" Peta shouted, exasperated. "How long have you been doing this...?"

Hans looked into her eyes. "Since before you."

"You have been sharing your time between me and this... this... who is this man?" Peta shouted, throwing her arms up.

"It's Christophe."

"CHRISTOPHE. The sweet maker? Geh scheissn!" Peta said angrily. "All these years... how much during our marriage?"

"Every time I went away," Hans said. Peta screamed with frustration. "So what, are you...?"

"Yes, I am."

"That's fine, that's great," Peta said, turning round and round on the spot, "this is just absolutely brilliant."

"Look, I never meant..."

"Kannst du dich bitte schleichen!" Peta screamed, furious. "Don't you understand? What have we been doing for the last month?"

Hans stayed quiet.

"Why have we been trying to get pregnant if you want to be with him?" she demanded. "What has this all been about?"

"We're married, and..."

"Not happily married, Hans!" Peta was frantic now. "You have ruined EVERYTHING."

"Not if I break up with Christophe..."

Peta screamed in anger and pointed at him, "NEIN. Not the time! Do you understand what you have done here?"

"Well, it's okay, we are not pregnant yet," Hans said timidly.

"Except I am late," Peta said.

"You came back early from work," Hans said, not getting it. "I would not call that late."

"LATE! LATE! Oaschloch!" Peta screamed. "I am LATE. FOR. MY. PERIOD!" And she held her arms out wide, staring directly at him, eyes blazing.

"Oh," Hans said. "We should test."

"Yes, we should," Peta said, sitting back onto the bed, exhausted.

After things were a little calmer, Hans grabbed one of the tests out of the bathroom and waited anxiously.

Peta sat there on the side of the bath, eyes closed, praying it was negative.

She opened her eyes and looked.

"It's positive," she said.

Hans opened the door carefully.

"We need to talk about what this means," he said.

"It means that YOU have got everything you ever wanted," Peta spat. "You're having a baby, congratulations. You're also going to be divorced as soon as possible."

"Peta, you can't do that!"

"Can't I?"

"I mean, you could...but wait...it would be easier to sort all this later. Let's not make any rash decisions," he said.

"That time has long passed!" Peta said. "If you wanted to be with Christophe, you shouldn't have been with me. Why were you?"

"It was the only way I could have a child," Hans said. Peta shook her head, disgusted.

"This is the worst thing you have ever done."

"I'm sorry..."

"Not as much as I am. You know, I wanted to leave you last month. You're never here, you don't help with anything, you don't pay bills properly, you are always distracted, the sex has been terrible, and now I know why. You were fucking..."

"No, I receive," Hans slipped that out and then went silent.

Peta breathed deeply. "You were FUCKING that bloody sweet shop salesman behind my back." She sighed. "I am no better."

Hans looked at her. "What?"

Peta turned away. "I've been seeing someone behind your back too. I wanted to break this off, to be with him. I decided not to, because we were trying for a baby." She turned back and looked at Hans. "But I can't be with him now, can I?"

"I cannot, and will not, get rid of this baby. So now we are stuck, together, and we have to make the most of this."

Hans nodded.

"I can't have you in the house right now though," Peta said, closing her eyes. "Please take some clothes and go...anywhere...for at least tonight. I need to think."

"Ja, I will," Hans got up and started dressing. "I am sorry, Peta."

Peta shook her head. "No more words."

***

He was beyond nervous. Sweaty, even, despite the cold air in economy class. He looked out of the window. A dark London lay before him, getting smaller, the twinkling of its many lights fading as the plane flew onward.

Sam was traveling to Vienna. It had been just over a month. He'd had his heart in his mouth for nearly the entire time. In his pocket was a small ring box, containing his grandmother's ring.

The ring was made up of two rubies and a diamond, almost exactly matching the shape and color of the Austrian flag, a deliberate design choice they'd taken when he'd originally wanted to propose to Peta, all those years ago.

Now he sat here, heart thumping, worried, anxious, excited, slightly salty to the taste, and distinctly pongy. "Excuse me," he said to an air hostess.

"Ja?" Sarah replied.

"Could I trouble you for a rum and coke, please?" Sam asked, his voice cracking a little.

"We don't normally serve alcohol so early, sir."

"Could you make an exception - I'm not the best flyer, and it helps me sleep," Sam asked.

The stewardess paused. "Of course, sir. I shall bring it to you."

"Most kind," Sam croaked, with a smile.

He sat back into the seat. It was a quiet flight, one of the early morning flights out of London City Airport. There was him, the stewardesses, one businessman, the Austrian ambassador to the United Kingdom and his small entourage, and a captain being flown for a connecting flight at Vienna.

The plane was quiet, everyone was either sleeping or drinking. Sam had chosen drinking.

"Here you go, sir," Sarah said, passing him the plastic cup, the can of coke, and the tiny bottle of Captain Morgan's.

"Danke."

"Bitte schön." She hesitated. "Sir, is everything okay? I've never served a drink this early in the morning before."