Poppies -Chapter 30-
By: Deena Thomson
Tags: Fiction, Writing, Fiction Writing, Fiction Ser, Novel

Fiction Series

Poppies -Chapter 30-

photo owned by Author

-Chapter 30-

There was a small farewell a few days later for the little babe that never was.

It wasn’t a funeral since there was no baby to bury, but a small ceremony to say goodbye to what might have been. Mara-Joy wore a black dress with a matching black veil fashionably covering her face. No one could see the expression that blanketed it.

Jobeth had insisted that Alan get a wheelchair for Mara-Joy to sit in. She didn’t want her child to strain herself. They nearly lost her through the whole ordeal as it was. Jobeth wasn’t having Mara-Joy overdoing it.

Chad stood beside the tiny memorial stepping stone and wept real tears for the child he never wanted. He tried to fantasize about playing ball with a son. Showing off a beautiful daughter. He believed that when the child was born, he would have begun to feel good about the marriage he felt forced into. The child was supposed to do that. It was supposed to take away that feeling of being an animal trapped in a snare. Or at least the baby could make his bondage bearable. Then again, it was the baby that had put him in this prison in the first place.

And now the baby was gone and he was in a pit he didn’t know how to get out of. He looked over at the stiff figure of Mara-Joy in the wheelchair. Her mother stood next to her. Their hands clasped tight together. Her mother hovering like a bobcat ready to pounce. Mara-Joy had not exaggerated. Her parents would hunt him down and make him pay if he ever hurt her. The way her mother hovered over her sent chills down Chad’s spine. What was it that made him shudder when he thought about how possessive his mother-in-law was over his wife? He couldn’t help but think it was destructive in some way.

He shook himself and looked again at Mara-Joy’s somber form. She wouldn’t talk to him. Ever since he received the message about the miscarriage.

Alan came to the grocery store to deliver what Chad considered his life sentence.

He looked up into the gray sky as clouds began to blanket them all dark and ominous. They loomed heavy tears, ready to drop on them all at any moment.

In his mind, Chad once again screamed, Why me? Why has this happened to me?

Then it dawned on him.

There was nothing holding him to Mara-Joy anymore.

There was no baby.

Mara-Joy couldn’t threaten him anymore. It was obvious she had wanted to marry him. No one would believe he raped her now. He could do it. He would have to wait a while. Get his plans together. He would have to think where he could go. He wouldn’t be able to stay. He could leave this place, Mara-Joy, the grocery store, and start a new one. Where no one would know him and his life as a married man.

His heart began to beat. Could it be over? Could he start fresh again?

He thought about the shame that divorce would bring to Mara-Joy. Abandon from her husband. He imagined his family horrified by his leaving of responsibilities.

Chad shook his head. It didn’t matter. He’d be glad to see the last of this hellhole town. Good riddance to bad rubbish. The thought of starting fresh in another town. Away from his father’s damn grocery store. Away from the responsibilities of being a husband to Mara-Joy. His heart began to pound against his rib cage.

Could there be light?

As the plan began to grow in his mind, Chad knew he could do it. He needed to do it.

A hand tapped him on the back of his shoulder, crashing him back to reality.

He turned to the assailant.

Mara-Joy stood before him. She looked weak and tired. Dark circles etched her torrid blue eyes. Jobeth stood a short distance behind her, her tissue twisting nervously in her hands. Mara-Joy insisted on walking to Chad. Leaving the wheelchair abandon and causing her mother to anguish.

“Take me home, Chad,” Mara-Joy looked into his wooden face, her voice cold and dead.

He looked down at the ground, feeling she could see into the very core of his soul.

“I want to go to our home.”

Chad’s head shot up. He began to break into a cold sweat. Guilt flooded him. He was being ridiculous. He knew it. Mara-Joy wasn’t a mind reader. She couldn’t read his thoughts. Or could she?

Mara-Joy reached out and grasped Chad’s arm with surprising strength.

“Chad, please!”

He nodded like an idiot and took her arm in his. Mara-Joy smiled up at him a dark curtain opening up in those blue eyes.

“You are such a loving husband,” Mara-Joy purred. Chad began to tremble. Where had he seen her smile like that before?

They drove in silence as Chad turned into the driveway of their home. He stopped the car, ready to jump out, to help Mara-Joy. She reached her small hand out placing it in his lap, very close to his privates. He felt her fingers brush against him, gentle with purpose. His face reddened with his instant response to her touch.

Mara-Joy chuckled.

“Chad darling, you are such a walking hormone.”

He pushed Mara-Joy’s hand away, disgusted with himself. She leaned back in her seat and cupped her jacket snug around her neck. The black veil half-covering her eyes couldn’t shield the menace behind it.

“Let’s get into the house and I will make you some hot tea,” Chad shifted uneasily in his seat and opened the door again.

Her look sent shivers of anxiety up his spine. Something was all too familiar with this scene.

“That is a wonderful idea,” Mara-Joy simpered as she unbuttoned her coat.

Chad tried not to look as she unfastened the snaps on the front of her black dress.

“Mara-Joy?” He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

A perky breast popped free from her bra. It was big and swollen from the pregnancy. Chad swallowed hard unable to sustain his growing arousal. He hated himself for wanting her. It was only when moments ago they had stood at their unborn child’s monument.

“Touch me,” Mara-Joy ordered as she caressed herself. “Touch me.”

He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and grabbed her, diving into her warm, waiting breasts. He nuzzled them ashamed, allowing his lust to take over.

Mara-Joy cried out in delight, clutching his head to her, his hair tight in her hands.

“Oh, you are mine,” she mewled, “you will always be mine, Chad.” She pushed his back against the seat, her chest naked and heaving in front of him. “Do you want me?” she asked, straddling him. She pinched her nipples hard, tossing back her head in a frenzy.

Chad encircled her waist, his mouth wanting to suck in every inch of her body. She pushed him away, reaching down between his legs.

“Do you want me?” she cooed again as she rubbed with vigor and expertise. Chad reached up and grabbed a bobbing breast. Again she pushed him away. She sat back in her seat, Chad’s hands reaching for her. She bent her head down between his legs. She breathed hot air on the protruding member buried under his pants.

Chad shuddered, unable to contain himself. He was going to have her, miscarriage or not.

Mara-Joy unzipped his pants, letting his member jump free from its confinement. She pressed the tip of her lips to the smooth tissue. Chad looked down, anticipating Mara-Joy’s next move. She looked up, her eyes glinting with mischief. The dark circles were still there under her eyes, but there was something else too. Something that frightened and excited him at the same time.

“Do you want me?” Mara-Joy said, almost pleading, her lips caressing him, her tongue flickering.

“Yes, yes,” he snarled, forcing her head down onto him. He closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the pleasure envelop him.

He succumbed to wave after wave of Mara-Joy gratifying him. They continued late into the night, their bedroom a fortress of lust. With each touch, each thrust of desire he felt the nails hammered deeper into his own coffin.

Lying awake naked in bed with Mara-Joy sleeping content on his chest, he realized where he’d seen her smile like that before. It was their wedding day. When she married him, it was for life, and she would do anything to keep him hers, forever.