Was it Fate or Stupidity

I laid on my pillow and again felt the sorrow and sense of loss before falling asleep.

~~~

"Wake up sleepy head, someone needs you," the Breana of my dreams demanded.

"Get up! you have work to do."

I woke. The emotions I'd experienced in my dreams were still with me, my pillow wet from tears.

'Why would Breana wake me?' I wondered.

Then I heard something from the next room. A moan. It sounded like the anguish of a lost soul. I could certainly relate to that!

Then I heard it again. Connie! I knew it was her. I quietly rose and made my way to her room.

The door was cracked open, so I was able to look inside without disturbing her.

She was crying. I could tell she was trying to hold back the tears, but she couldn't. I knew what that felt like. I entered the room and, as gently as possible, crawled up beside her. I worked my right arm under her neck and then put my left arm over her, and gently pulled her against me. I could feel her tense when I touched her, but she didn't pull away. I wanted to let her know that she was safe now.

She worked her way against me, and I was glad that my cock didn't respond inappropriately for the situation.

Her sobs changed. They seemed different -- not as deep or as frequent - but they didn't stop altogether. Then, finally, I knew she was asleep from her regular and deep breathing. I fell asleep not long after.

We woke together, still embracing, apparently not having moved for several hours. I could sense that she was awake as I began to untangle from her. I was sporting a morning wood as usual, and I hoped that was not what woke her. I climbed out of bed first and she followed.

I was relieved to see that she hadn't slept naked, but probably due to our mutual embarrassment, we exchanged no words while we were in her room.

I walked out and jumped in the shower to have a quick wash and properly wake myself up.

After drying and dressing, I came into the dining room to see Connie fixing breakfast. She was moving around the kitchen confidently as if she had lived in the house all her life. She was wearing a long nightshirt of Breana's which looked ok on her, I suppose. Unlike the previous day, there were no visions of Breana.

I didn't know what I felt ... disappointment that I hadn't visualized my dead wife ... or relief that the sad memories might have begun to heal.

Saturday:

Connie sat two plates full of grits for breakfast on the table. One plateful each. I was glad that I was hungry and that I don't mind grits, or breakfast would have been over rather quickly.

We sat and ate together. I could see the hint of a smile on Connie's face this morning. I liked that. Finally, she looked down. "Thank you for last night," she said.

I wondered for a moment whether I should confess that Breana had woke and told me to comfort her. But I wasn't stupid enough to share that little gem.

"No problem. Us broken people need to stick together."

She nodded without looking at me, as the silence permeated throughout our broken home.

"Connie..." I said softly, "...are you going to stay here for a while?"

Without looking at me she replied, "If I may."

"OK. Good. I need to go shopping today..." I continued quietly, unwilling to disturb the calm any more than necessary. "...can you help me with a list, or even come with me to the store?"

"Both," she answered softly.

I nodded.

Breakfast cleanup was a breeze with two people working together. Then I got dressed and waited for Connie.

When she came out of her bedroom, I was amazed at how nice she looked in another of my wife's dresses. Again, I saw only Connie, not Breana, ... and I wondered why.

We went shopping and both pushed a basket. I followed Connie around the store. She was very particular with each item she chose. Especially the produce and dairy products.

When it came to the meat section, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and ordered several cuts directly from the butcher. My only input was to order some one-inch thick, rib eye steaks, and twenty pounds of short ribs.

When Connie questioned my choice, I replied that I liked to grill a couple times per week. And I loved smoked ribs.

She shook her head and, I suspected, immediately thought about side items for the barbeque. My guess was confirmed when we backtracked to pick up some baked beans and corn on the cob. She also made sure we had large potatoes for baking.

~~~

Later that night, after dinner, I walked into the living room. Connie was listening to music, and I thought that it was both nice and different than watching television all the time. But, as I looked at Connie dressed now in one of my wife's evening gowns, I saw Breana again.

"Hold me," she mouthed to me. Then she nodded and mouthed again, "Hold me."

I blinked and it was Connie sitting there, not Breana. I sat next to Connie and reached over like I used to do to Breana, before pulling her to me, laying her against my chest and wrapping her in my arms.

I could smell her then. She didn't smell like Breana, but she smelled good to me. My arm was again across the center of her breasts and holding the side of her stomach. Though it wasn't sexual, it was VERY intimate.

I partially expected Connie to shy away from this type of attention, but she just laid her head back on my chest and snuggled into my embrace.

After a while she started to fall asleep, so I rose and scooped her up into my arms. An easy enough task since she wasn't a big woman. I carried her into the guestroom and laid her on the bed. I stood hoping that Breana would appear to give me directions, but nothing happened. I just saw Connie roll over and settle into a peaceful slumber.

I started to leave the room but felt compelled to stop. It was like a mental stop sign, but was it conscious or subconscious? I suspected that it was Breana inside my head, directing me.

'I'm learning Bree', I very quietly spoke to Breana, then I turned and gently climbed onto Connie's bed, arranging myself like the night before.

Sunday:

Again, I woke with Connie in my arms. She was still asleep and softly snoring. My morning wood was pressing against her ass. I was embarrassed, and wanted to move, but was worried about disturbing her. Besides, it felt rather good there.

Morality won the mental battle and I backed away from her. As I stood, I turned to look at her, and Connie was looking back up at me. She mouthed a 'thank you'.

After breakfast I was wondering how to fill some time before church. There wasn't much left to do, with all Connie's help around the house.

I made sure the steaks were thawed and ready to be grilled, while Connie started making some baked beans.

I told her that we wouldn't be eating till after twelve, because I was going to church. She shook her head in acknowledgement.

Connie didn't go to church with me that Sunday. I went by myself and listened to some sort of sermon that I just couldn't get my troubled mind around. My thoughts were filled with Breana telling me that I should be home with Connie, but I couldn't understand why.

After church I promised Connie a great steak. She liked hers cooked medium and I think that I managed to achieve that. After eating lunch, we sat on the sofa and listened to more music.

Connie changed the station to gospel music. I enjoyed most of it, and enjoyed sitting on the sofa next to Connie even more.

I did have to use the bathroom a couple of times, as I was drinking a lot of tea.

Finally, Connie leaned into me and laid her head on my shoulders. I held her close and before long she fell asleep.

This time I carried her towards the master bedroom, Breana's and my room, but as I got to the door, I just couldn't take her inside. So, we spent another night in the guestroom.

MONDAY:

I woke and climbed out of bed, while Connie remained asleep. I don't know why but I kissed her cheek as I left the room, and then cursed myself for doing it.

I went to work and, as usual, my boss was extremely kind to me. He gave me my choice of assignments, so I took a couple of easy jobs, followed by a more difficult task to keep my mind from dwelling on the problems in my life.

I was totally focused and didn't even realize I had worked through lunch. By the end of the day, I had completed all my tasks and Jim complimented my work ethic. I was confused because he had never done that before.

I went home and found Connie in the same dress she was wearing that morning. This time, when I looked at Connie, I envisioned Breana looking at me with concern on her face and a smile on her lips. She seemed to mouth the words 'Get ready, get ready' before her image vanished and I was looking at Connie.

I heard the doorbell just a few moments later.

Connie started for the door, but I stopped her before she opened it. I looked through a window and saw the detective in charge of my wife's case standing on the doorstep. I quietly told Connie NOT to open the door unless she was sure he had a warrant. I hid in the walk-in-closet until Connie told me he had gone.

She embraced me kindly, and lovingly as I sat on the floor in the closet. She was on my lap with her arms around my neck making me feel safe and protected. I could feel my tremors subside as she continued to embrace me. Tremors I hadn't realized that I had. I felt disgusted with myself, a grown man, leaning on a woman like that, and a homeless woman at that. But I didn't refuse her comfort because, in truth, I was terrified.

The reason I was so frightened of the police was, they had taken me to the station and interrogated me for two days. I would probably still be there if I hadn't started screaming for a lawyer. I know they were just doing their jobs, but I had just found out that my wife was dead and they started accusing me of being a big part of it... I wasn't sure myself if I was guilty or not?

Connie went outside and fetched the note they had left stuck on the front door.

It simply said, "Call us, we have the results of our investigation."

I mumbled to myself, "That means they have arrest warrants too."

I was surprised that they left at all.

That night we had a light meal and afterwards we watched a movie, rather than listening to music, using the surround sound that Connie had gotten to work. After the movie, I took her to her bed, and again we laid together. The difference this time was that I laid on my back, and Connie laid her head on my chest. Soon we slipped into a blissful slumber.

TUESDAY:

Tuesday was another working day for me. Jim was nice as hell. It was beginning to freak me out. I took on two difficult jobs believing, firstly, it would keep my mind occupied and, secondly, it would prevent me from smozzing????? two days in a row.

When I arrived home after work, one look at Connie wearing my wife's house dress told me that something was wrong. Once again, I saw a vision of Breana, and this time she was mouthing 'Don't be mad. Don't be mad.' Over, and over again.

I looked away from Breana and, when I looked back, I could see Connie and knew from her expression that something was wrong.

"What is it?" I asked.

She was choking back tears, as she started to explain, "I didn't want to, but ... but ... but ... that note ... the note the cops left yesterday..." she kept looking down. "It kept showing up. I kept putting it away, and it just kept showing up. I even threw it in the trash once, and a few minutes later it was back on the dining table! I don't know what it was. But it just kept happening."

I crossed the room and took her in my arms. There was no way a note could mysteriously move about a room, of course, but then I smelled Breana's beautiful perfume. Paloma Picasso. It consumed my senses. Then I became angry. How dare this homeless bitch wear my wife's perfume!! But then, just like that, the smell was gone, and I calmed down.

"I called the police," she announced while I held her.

"The detectives came back. They said that they wanted to give you this file."

She turned and waived her hand towards the dining room table.

"It is a very well-detailed investigation. It shows that your wife killed herself because she was pressured into it."

"I know!!" I said stepping away from her. "They were trying to pin me with conspiracy to aid her to commit suicide. I think they wanted to charge me with manslaughter."

"According to the report," she interrupted my rant. "It wasn't you who pressured her into it."

I looked at her.

"Then who was pressuring her?" I asked, somewhat confused.

She took me to the dining room and waved her hand over all the photos and documents she had organized on the table. Then she pointed to witness statements from some of the company's employees and several other people.

I read the investigation summary. It concluded that: He was blackmailing her for sex. He was threating her with 'my!' termination and destruction. He was trying to force her to have sex with him. And now I knew who he was. He was my boss. Jim Johnson. He was the reason my wife, Breana, killed herself. He was the reason she was dead.

FOUR STAGES OF GRIEF:

I went into a rage. "That son of a bitch, that no good son of a bitch!!" I swore, pacing back and forth.

Connie was trying to calm me down. She grabbed my shirt trying to hold me in place. Trying to stop me from doing something stupid.

All I could see was red. I wanted to rip his head off and shit down his throat.

"Stop, stop!" she demanded, screaming.

But I just kept on.

"A weapon. I need a weapon," I said under my breath.

"NO!!" Connie screamed.

That got my attention and I looked at her, but I couldn't understand what she wanted, and I wasn't going to stop long enough to figure it out. She knew that. She knew that I wouldn't stop until I got my revenge. The cops probably knew it too, which is why they came in force to deliver the report.

"You don't want to kill him!!" she said, but her voice had changed. Instead of concerned pleading, she was speaking in a vengeful tone.

"No, I know what you want to do to him." She was speaking conspiratorially. "I know exactly what you want to do."

She had sparked my curiosity. I looked at her. I was willing to listen. I was willing to hear her idea.

"First you're going to fuck him senseless. Then you're going to destroy him. Then you're going to fuck him again and again. You're going to drive that cock of yours down every hole he has. You're going to fuck up his life like he's fucked up yours."

Well, that shocked me, to say the least. I don't know why, but I heard her out. I understood her point of view, but it was disturbing. I had never fucked a man, and to be honest, never had even the slightest desire to do it, but right then, I felt something come over me, as if I was possessed.

Connie took my hands, and I let her guide them to her breasts, over my wife's dress.

"Come on!" she demanded in a forceful tone. "Come ON! Rip it off him, rip it off Jimmy boy, be a man. Do to him what he wanted to do to your wife!"

I couldn't see Connie, and yet I did see Connie. It didn't make sense, but I had the top of her dress in my hands. I gripped it and pulled.

"Harder. Come on, man up and rip it off him!"

That keyed me, and I ripped the dress to shreds.

"That's it, get him naked. You're going to fuck him, so come on and fuck him!"

I kept tearing the dress until there was nothing left. Then I went for her bra and made quick work of destroying it too. She was naked except for her panties, and I hesitated briefly, wondering what I was doing.

But then she slapped me and urged me on.

"Come on, are you going to fuck him or not!!" she demanded.

I grabbed her and tossed her on the table. I shoved her back on all the papers, photos and documents. Then I reached for her panties and ripped them off her.

"Come on stud. Fuck him. Fuck him good!"

I shoved down my pants and lined up my impossibly hard cock with her cunt.

"Fuck him, fuck him now!!" she ordered.

I rammed it into her, right up to the hilt.

"Yea, yea that's it. Fuck him good!"

I took about a dozen strokes before I reached for her and picked her up off the table, bringing her to me, but not letting my cock leave her cunt. She wrapped her legs around my waist.

I continued to fuck her as I walked her into her room. I threw myself, with her underneath, onto the bed and continued to fuck her.

"Yea, E, O, yea... fuck me. Fuck me, Fuck Jimmy-Boy!!" she kept calling out.

I pulled out and forcibly rolled her over. I brought her ass to the edge of the bed and mounted her from behind. I wasn't gentle, and I pounded into her cunt with abandon.

I could hear her calling out, but I really didn't know what she was saying. Then my cock erupted inside her.

With the force of the orgasm, coupled with the adrenalin loss, and all the emotions that had built up... I collapsed on top of her, totally spent, without enough energy to roll off.

She took my weight, even with her face pressed into the mattress.

Then I completely lost it. I began to wail. My cries were loud and uncontrollable.

"My wife is gone. And that bastard, Jim, killed her!"

CHAPTER:

I was sitting on the love seat in my front room drinking a cup of coffee that Connie had made for me. She walked into the room holding a small jar of something. She held it up for me to see.

"Here, the next time you fuck Jimmy Boy, you can fuck him in the ass."

I was truly all fucked out, but I loved her attitude. Not to mention, she had just saved me from going to prison for murder. I knew that in the state of mind I was in, I would have killed Jimmy-Boy. I would have beaten him to a pulp and taken a knife and slit his throat. I was so glad she stopped me.

I smiled at her quip and patted the seat next to me.

She sat down and then I kissed her. It was a soft kiss that lingered just a little, and was very sensual, but nothing too sexual.

Then I asked, "Let me see them."

She looked at me, knowing what I wanted to see, but not really wanting to show me.

"They are fine," she tried to assure me.

I nodded and asked again, "Let me see, please."

She was very hesitant but nodded with resignation.

I opened her blouse and saw what I'd feared. I'd marked her lovely breasts with several black and blue bruises. I could almost make out one of my handprints.

"God, I am so sorry for this," I said, begging her forgiveness.

"I'm not. I see them as badges of honor. I am proud to wear them."

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her to me. I held her in the embrace for quite a while, reveling in the feel of having a woman in my arms again.

"I never thought I would hold a woman again after I lost Breana," I started.

She kept quiet but I could tell she was listening.

"She was everything to me. We met in high school, and she encouraged me to go on to college. I would never have gone if not for her encouragement."

"After I graduated, I got into computer support and excelled at it."

I stopped, wondering if she even wanted to hear my story.

"Go on," she urged.

"Are you sure?"

"I just got my ass kicked because of this woman. Yes, I'm sure. I want to know more about her," Connie replied.

I chuckled then said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just continue."

"Ok, then ... She and I were together for the four years I went to college. She was always showing up helping me get through the next midterm and final. She was invaluable to me in college as I may have failed some of my classes if not for her help."

I thought for a moment before I went on. "She was perfect except for one thing." I delayed my words, not knowing if I should share this with Connie. "She couldn't have children." I announced. "We tried in my senior year, as I had gotten a job at J and J Support Systems. And they seemed to love me."