This is a rough draft at a flash fiction piece - comments are appreciated. It needs to be shortened considerably to meet contest requirements.
A Suitcase of Bitterness and Sacrifice
Her favorite silk panties were in her hand. They sent a
chill up her spine. The day she bought them she marched confidently into
Victoria Secret with the gift card from her husband. That day she felt like a
princess. Today, the panties brought her no delight. She thought about all the
sacrifices she had made and every gift he gave her made her bitter. She felt
dirty and alone. The lavender panties with lace details were no longer
beautiful and soft in her eyes. To Veronica, they were dirty and shameful. Instead
of folding them in her suitcase, she tucked them between two pairs of boxers in
Charlie’s underwear drawer.
“You’ll miss me you son of a bitch”…Veronica muttered…
The dress she bought on the cruise they took in celebration
of five years of wedded bliss. The dress weighed practically nothing, but it
was unbearable in her arms. Veronica and the dress fell to the floor in a heap.
Her tears were coming quickly now. Yesterday she swore she wouldn’t cry, but
standing in the bedroom they shared, in the house they built together, it was
just more than she could bear. She ran her fingers along the shiny smooth floor
boards and remembered choosing every detail of their home. Building their home
was a labor of love for both she and Charlie and she couldn’t believe this was
happening.
“I wonder if he screwed her in our bed or if she was
impressed with the marble countertops? I hope she screws him over.”
Her sorrow subsided and the anger took over. She folded her
things neatly and placed them into the cool dark suitcase. Her physical motions
were methodical and cautious but her emotions were all over the place: How
could he have done this to me? I quit my job at the paper to stay home and be
the wife he always wanted. I hardly saw my family and my friends turned away a
long time ago.
“It’s all a joke – I’m a joke!” she hollered as she sent the
suitcase and all its contents flying across the room.
Thud…the suitcase hit the wall and her things fell into a
mess on the floor.
“Let his little hussy pick up the mess.”
And with that, she grabbed her designer handbag, her
rhinestone sunglasses, and her cosmetics bag – she turned delicately on one
foot, threw her hair over her shoulder, and walked out of their house. She was
walking out of the house, out of his life, and away from everything she had
ever known.
Veronica had made plenty of money during her literary career
and Charlie was a talented business man. She wasn’t worried about money, and
she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of staying at some flea bit hotel. Going
home to her mother’s wasn’t an option either. She phoned the nicest hotel in
town and arranged to stay in one of their finest suites.
“How long will you be staying Mrs. Tempess?” asked the young
woman on the phone.
“Indefinitely, thank you. Bill the charges to my husband’s
company. I’m sure you’ve heard of it – Tempess Tech?”
“Yes ma’am, of course ma’am” said the girl.
Veronica ended the call and tossed her iphone into the cup
holder of her Escalade. Since she hadn’t gone through with packing, she would
need some new clothes. But first, a trip to Starbucks was in order. She needed
some caffeine to clear her head. Waiting in the drive through for her Venti
Hazelnut Latte Frescante she decided she would also stop and get a mani/pedi
and some highlights before checking into the Iron Horse hotel in downtown Milwaukee.
She dialed Monique at Neroli, the Aveda Salon on Chicago Street. The warm
greeting was exactly what she was hoping for.
Veronica’s afternoon was filled with laughter, coffee, and
pampering. Monique had called in a favor from Jordan Dechambre.
“Jordan love, it’s Monique. I have a client who needs a week’s
worth of clothing… 2…34C….purple and yellow please…Spare no expense.” (Veronica
could only hear one side of the conversation, but it seemed promising)
Jordan was a wardrobe consultant who was happy to provide
Veronica with everything she would need. When Veronica arrived at the Iron
Horse, she was pleased to find a fresh bouquet of flowers in her room, and the
closets and drawers were filled with her new clothes. After a luxurious bath,
she slipped into the red silk thong and matching bra Jordan had chosen for her
and walked to the closet to see what she could find that would be appropriate
for a cocktail at the hotel bar. Jordan had not disappointed her. Veronica slipped
into a jet black a-line/princess halter knee-length chiffon dress. She was
curious if the ladies had remembered footwear. She opened the armoire and found
the perfect match to her sexy dress. She couldn’t have looked better. She
slipped into a pair of t-strap sandals with three inch hells and ankle straps.
A touch of bronzer and gloss, a pair of earrings, and she
was ready to go. She ran a comb through her long blonde locks and headed down
to the hotel bar. This would be the night she left behind that suitcase of bitterness
and sacrifice. And when the handsome stranger with broad shoulders, a kind
smile, and twinkling eyes asked “May I buy you a drink?” there was no
hesitation from Veronica. She was ready to delight in whatever the future had
to bring. She already enjoyed the way he looked at her and she knew this was a
man who would appreciate what she had to offer.
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