Abomination by Bradley Convissar Read Free Book Online Page B

him, he would have seen the tell tale lip curl and the subtle eye twitch that so often betrayed her.
    “So you don’t care if he gets sick?”
    “He’s not staying the weekend, Jamie, like you do.  He’s not sharing a bed with me.  He’s not fucking me. (Did he detect a lie there?)  And he’s leaving in a couple of minutes.  It’s not the same.”
    “Whatever,” Jamie said, exasperated.
    Samantha’s voice softened.  “I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon,” she said.  “I promise.  We’ll make plans for next weekend.”
    “Fine.”  But it wasn’t fine.
    “ Talk to you tomorrow.  I promise.  After he goes home, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.  So I can be healthy next weekend.  For you.  So we can spend all weekend together.  Maybe not even get out of bed.  Okay?” 
    “Yeah.”
    “Love you,” Samantha said.
    “Love you , too.” Jamie said reflexively.
    The line went dead.
    Jamie dropped the phone from his ear, placed it on his nightstand.  He collapsed back into the gentle embrace of his bed and closed his eyes.  “Motherfucker,” he said.  He wanted to break a wall, wanted to throw something, wanted to roar.  Wanted to let the rage that was slowly building inside of him loose.  If there ever was a time to give in to the anger, wasn’t this it? While watching his three-year relationship with Samantha, the girl of his dreams, the girl he thought he was going to marry, start to unravel? 
    But he didn’t give in to the anger.  Didn’t throw or break anything.  He slowed his breathing and reeled the anger back in.  Stepped on it, buried it, as he always did.  Controlled it.  Submerged it.  He wouldn’t be like his father.  Wouldn’t submit to the base instincts which threatened to consume him.  He was a man, not an animal.
    Not a monster.  Not an abomination.
    As he lay in bed, he knew that he shouldn’t have been surprised by this turn of events.  Things had been rocky ever since he graduated back in May when he returned home to northern Jersey, leaving her to her own devices in Philadelphia.  She wasn’t the kind of girl who handled separation well.  She needed the comfort of knowing that her man could be at her place at a moment’s notice to give her a backrub or cook her dinner or fuck her.  She needed constant gratification, constant validation, the immediate fulfillment of her whims.  He worked nine hours a day at the clinic and currently lived an hour and a half away from her apartment.  He couldn’t simply hop on the turnpike every day after work to see her.  It was far from a convenient situation, but he knew that he could handle the separation for a year.  After all, they saw each other almost every weekend.  He had convinced himself that, after three years of commitment, Samantha would be able to suffer their year-long separation for the sake of their future.  It appeared he had been wrong.  But he couldn’t prove that she was actually cheating on him with that rich, arrogant scumbag Peter Fauerbach.  She hadn’t confirmed his suspicions.  Quite the opposite, she had vehemently denied them. 
    But his gut told him that she was fucking him.  And his gut was rarely wrong.
    He was almost positive that she was playing him, manipulating him using both his feelings for her and her own sexuality, keeping him in her back pocket, hoping that he wouldn’t discover her dalliances, hoping that she could screw around with someone else while he was distant but keep him close enough so their relationship could return to normal once she had graduated (assuming nothing better came along in the meanwhile).  As Jamie laid there, his mind throbbing with all of the gory possibilities, he actually cracked a small smile.  She was so manipulative, so good at the game.  Three years was a lot of time, a lot of energy, a lot of memories, a lot of emotions to casually toss away because of suspicions.  He was a sentimental fool and she knew it.  She