A Forbidden Storm by J. Larsen Read Free Book Online

telling herself he would be back soon, but the time crawled by.   Jessica kept re-reading the first few pages of her book.   She scanned the words but they failed to make an impression.   Her mind was wondering to her husband together with that awful, manipulative man.   She should be with Joel –without Martin.   It was their honeymoon after all, and there is something to be said for comfortable shoes.
     
    Jessica ordered in for lunch, but didn’t touch her food.   She sat staring at the tray and fiddling with the square of paper that had been folded next to her plate.   A real classy place.   Paper, fucking napkins.   She tore off the corner and laid it next to her fork.   Jess picked away bits of the napkin until she had created a small mountain of tiny paper scraps on the corner of the tray.   She tore off a sliver of paper and placed it on top of the pile, surveyed the peak and added another scrap.   Had that man told Joel anything?   They’re late.   She added one last triangle of paper before balling up what was left of the napkin.   It bounced off the side of the trashcan and Jess frowned as it scooted across the floor.   Fuck.   Fuck.   Fuck.   She dumped the contents of the tray into the trash, then stooped to retrieve and deposit the errant shot with the rest of the garbage. Why the hell did you kiss him, Jessica?
     
    The afternoon passed with no sign of Joel.   Jess had given up on her novel and had instead found some drinks in the mini-bar.   Three travel-sized bottles of a red dinner wine had gone down easily.   Jess was a little tipsy and more than a little annoyed.   Joel was usually so prompt.   She wiped her bloodshot eyes.   Why the hell are you crying so much, Jessica?   Her next swig was the last of another little bottle of wine, a white.   She grimaced.   This stuff is shit.   I should call for some more red.   She set the empty bottle next to the three others on the coffee table, before grabbing a throw pillow to hug while curling up on the sofa.
     
    It was dark outside when Jessica pulled the curtain closed.   She looked at the glowing red display of the alarm clock on the nightstand; ten-seventeen.   She imagined her husband’s water-bloated body washing up in the surf, killed by his homicidal fishing partner.   She paced in the dark, turned on the television, scanned a few channels, and turned it off again.   In the bathroom she was shocked by the state of her makeup.   Waterproof mascara.   Bullshit.   She scrubbed her face until her skin was a raw pink color.   A survey of the mini fridge revealed that she was low on booze.   There were a few beers left, but Jessica wasn’t much for beer.   Fuck it.   She loosened the cap off the bottle with a pop.   Jess laughed manically, “Best honeymoon, ever.”   She took a great gulp then poured the rest of the foul drink down the drain.
     
    “Jess, I’m sorry.”   It was ten-thirty.   “I really didn’t know we would be so late.   It was a misunderstanding.   There ended up being these other guys.   The guide couldn’t bring the boat in for me.   And it wasn’t like I was paying.   I had to wait it out.”   Joel was all apologies.
     
    “You’ve been crying?   Baby, I’m sorry.   I’ll make it up to you.”   Joel cuddled up to her on the sofa and she buried her face in his shoulder.
     
    “I thought you were dead.”   She started crying again then laughing at the silliness of it all.   He was laughing with her, and rocking her gently.   “Damn it Joel,” she swatted him with her pillow and scrunched her face at him in frustration.   “You smell like fish.”
     
    As she listened to the sound of the shower, Jessica felt the tension seep away.   Her anxiety fled like the pressure seeping out under the cap of a carbonated soda after the seal has been broken. She lay back on the sofa, and breathed, seemingly for the first time in twenty four hours.   How did she let herself