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Bre’Anna M. Green
Intro to Creative Writing
Short Story
February 27, 2012.
Only Time Will Tell… of the Betrayal
“I saw her,” Sara said quietly looking up at him after she closed the door of the large,
expensive apartment flat behind her. Richard was standing in the kitchen, behind the counter,
looking as handsome as ever: tall with a perfect body, blond boyish hair, sensually shaped lips,
she had kissed so often, bright blue eyes which were now responding to her announcement
without a blink. There was no guilt in his eyes nevertheless she thought to have detected
something in that look, something like a glimmer of an unexpected surprise. But maybe she was
just imagining things; maybe her suspicious mind was simply running wild. It was too much of a
typical stereo-type thing for it to be true: the coming home early and catching one’s lover with
another woman. Nevertheless there was something different about him, now that she looked at
him over and over again. His shoulders seemed oddly relaxed though. She felt a sharp pain
expanding in her stomach, squeezing her intestines with fear.
“Ah, yes, you would have,” He said dryly not even trying to lie about it. In fact he even seemed
to admit to it when in a horrible threatening tone he added: “She spent the night.”
Her fingers tightened the grip on the summer coat she carried in her hands. This unexpected
information hit her like a blow to the head with a hammer. Millions of uneasy thoughts exploded
in her head, followed by the image of the pretty, slim woman with the beautiful red curls falling
heavily over her shoulders, the one she had seen exiting her boy-friend’s apartment a few
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minutes ago as she walked down the road. She swallowed hard; the shock of this confession
choked her throat. It was every girl’s nightmare. She struggled with words to say. “But…
Richard,” she finally burst out.
“We had business to discuss.” A smug look appeared on his face, the lie exposed. He was testing
her gullibility.
“I’m not stupid, Richard.” She tried to make her words sound firm. Trying to create inner
strength she walked over to an arm-chair to put down her coat; behind her the sound of a
sarcastic chuckle. Her hands were trembling. She didn’t understand what was going on. This
wasn’t Richard. He’d always been so caring and honest. They had been together now for two
wonderful months; an apparent perfect relationship, full of love, understanding and trust. But
now - she turned around slowly afraid of what she’d see - now these bright blue eyes were
looking at her unemotional. Had they always been so cold? She covered up her female intuition.
With a hopeful look in her eyes she walked towards him. “Richard, let us talk about this. I’m
sure we can work this out.” She stopped in front of the kitchen counter; her finger tips rested
softly on its smooth surface as she watched him brush his blond hair off his face.
Unconcerned he reached for his pack of cigarettes lying right between them.
“Oh, we already worked it out,” as he pulled out a cigarette and put it to his lips. Her eyes
widened a little with disbelief. “Me and Jenna,” he added.
Sara still confused tried to find clarity in his eyes, but only found confirmation of her deepest
fear. He lit his cigarette and inhaled with pleasure, eyes closing for a moment as if he tasted
pleasure itself. She watched his uncaring reaction softly shaking her head. Yet still, she had an
indication of hope. If he really had a fling with this woman, he might have ended it today. Her
understanding of his words inspired confidence. “Richard, let’s talk. We’ve just planned our
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engagement and didn’t you just book our three-week-trip to Italy?” But the man carelessly blew
smoke into her face in answer to the subject then pushed her out of the way with a harsh shove.
He walked casually towards the black leather couch and plopped down on it. Right arm casually
extended across the back of the couch, he removed the cigarette and leaned back. He leaned back
slow with a look of hatred in his eyes that she had never seen before.
“Engagement? Cute. You are such a dreamer, Sara, which made it all so easy.”
She had attempted to follow him to the couch but stopped short when he spoke. What was he
saying? This wasn’t him speaking. His manners had always been perfect, his personality warm
and charming, considerate. They’d fallen in love with each other instantly. He seemed to know
all her wishes without needing to ask. He was well-dressed and took a lot of care of his
appearance, and the perfect gentleman for the daughter of a wealthy father. Only last week he’d
entertained her parents with her mother’s favorite Sinatra song “New York” singing it and
playing on their grand piano. Her father had told her to hold on to him. Yes, he even invited him
for a morning ride across their land trusting him with his most beloved horse. They got along
marvelously. On their return they were like partners in crime keeping some extraordinary secret,
which in the end turned out to be him asking for her hand in marriage. Only yesterday they had
gone to pick an engagement ring, to be a present from her father.
She held her breath. She could not understand any of his behavior. He watched her closely with a
self-satisfied expression on his face. “What are you saying, Richard?” she shook her head not
really wanting to know his answer yet needing to ask despite of it.
He laughed out loud. “Well, I guess the game’s up a day too soon,” he sucked delightfully on his
cigarette and blew the smoke out in a couple of quick puffs. “Didn’t plan on you coming home
early,” he laughed again throwing his head back. It was such a ridiculous cliché.
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She stared at him startled, “Game? Planned what?” It was like a horrible dream. He was kidding,
surely.
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Sara? I used you. Can’t you see?” he leaned forward to put out
the cigarette in the ashtray on the small glass coffee table in front of him. “I love you so much!”
he said playacting the head over heels in love role and then changed back just as easily into the
cold-hearted monster he had turned into so unexpectedly.
It was a bad film. Sara’s eyes widened with horror. His words were like a hard slap in the face.
Despite her 5ft 9” and attractive exterior she suddenly felt small and worthless. Her arms hung
down, her face frozen in shock.
Richard settled back on the couch now extending both arms along the back rest of the couch
watching her closely; eager to see the pain in her eyes, the helplessness, sucking it in hungrily,
and he seemed to want more.
“Let me explain,” he said viciously. “I’m not who you think I am, obviously,” he laughed. “I put
on a good show though, of the perfect lover.” He lolled about on the couch like a king. “Should
have considered acting as my profession but I am in fact, not the bank manager you imagined me
to be, but just a petty thief.” He sighed dramatically, adding, “Oh, and Jenna, she isn’t what you
call a lady, you know.” as he winked and grinned at her, as if she wasn’t part of this. “Well, to
cut this short: we needed money.”
“No…“ Sara’s voice sounded weak.
“And you were just the perfect bait for several reasons, Sara… so pleasantly weak and naive.”
His head tilted slightly as he noted her tears with pleasure. “And of course rich,” he carried on.
Her legs weakened and she dropped to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“See,” he said cruelly yet satisfied and pointing at her, “Pathetically weak.” Her eyes only
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slightly focused on him. He sighed sadly looking up at the ceiling: “I had such a lovely letter
prepared for you to find tomorrow. Explaining, why I had to leave, not wanting to be supported
financially by a woman, no longer wanting to feel useless for having my rent paid for me, you
know, the your-too-good-for me-thing and all that.” His head lowered to look at her again to
study the effect of his words. Sara started to sob in a soft tone. “But Dad, he… “
“Your father, yes, he loved me, didn’t he? He wrote me a blank check to pay for the ring. Well,
would you be surprised to know, there isn’t a ring?” he blinked dramatically then laughed.
“How can you… be so, so, so… heartless?” she cried.
His index finger shot out towards her. “Ah! Now you got the picture, sweetie.” He watched her
upper body slump over her knees weeping pitifully. A satisfied look appeared on his face. He
grunted to himself. Her body slipped to the side with the sound of her sobs, lying there like a
wounded animal at the verge of death. He suddenly jumped up from the couch rubbing his hands.
“Well, it’s time to go, I guess.” He made a step but her hands reached for his ankles clinging to
it. “Richard…”
“Oh, shut up!” he kicked his legs free making her cry out in pain. He stomped past her, his eyes
suddenly filled with hatred. “Stop crying, I can’t stand it!” He went into the bedroom.
“I’ll tell Dad… everything!” she screamed out rubbing her arm. She struggled to sit up.
“Ha-ha! Do that, sweetie! I already took care of that while we were out for a ride. You can tell
him what you want. I prepared him for that unhealthy jealousy you possess and the incredible
stories you come up with, when I catch you snooping on me.” There was a shuffling sound in the
bedroom.
“You liar!” she cried still on the floor wiping the tears.
“Who can tell?” He reappeared from the bedroom wearing a leather jacket and a large backpack
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on his back.
“You bastard!” she yelled, the bad word sounding strange coming from her well-mannered lips.
She struggled to her feet and threw herself at him, disappointment and frustration helped her
strength. She pounded her fists against his chest.
He instantly grabbed her wrists. “Relax, I let you have what’s left in here.” He sounded amused
and sarcastic. “I’m done, and… no need to worry about daddy, I didn’t take it all.”
With a sudden realization she understood the meaning of the blank check.
“Why do you want to destroy us? What have we done to you!! You bastard!” she screamed
trying to break free of his grip. His eyes darkened like a never-ending fire inside of them. He
shoved her backwards, making her stumble and fall back onto the floor. Her head hit the edge of
a small cabinet. She screamed in pain; blood dripped onto her dress.
He took no notice, but seemed to enjoy every second of it. “I only take what is mine. Good luck
with the bastard you’re carrying inside of you, if he’s still alive.” He smirked. Her look gave
away her surprise. “Oh, yes, I know. I found your pregnancy test. Did you want to surprise me
that we’d soon be a happy little family?” This hurtful remark cut deep into her heart like a sharp
knife. He opened the door and stepped outside, reaching back for the handle to close it behind
him. Before he did, he looked over his shoulder at Sara on the floor. “You’ve committed incest
sister, bad rich girl.” He said winking at her cheerfully then slammed the door behind him. She
could hear evil laughter slowly in the distance.
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