Forbidden Dance: Will She Forgo Her Marriage for a Lifetime of Happiness? (2 page)

“What a hopeless four and a half year marriage!” Alero shrieked at her father-in-law, the bearer of bad news.

Only minutes ago, Wyatt Thomson walked into her matrimonial home with a three year old boy clutching his thickset hand. The toddler’s grey eyes looked around her tastefully-decorated living room. And his gaze landed on the oversized white seashell on the coffee table.

“I had no choice, Alero. His mother dumped him at our gate and told us to take little Kyle to his dad. Before we could find out more, she drove away.” Wyatt shrugged his shoulders as if he was touched by this latest fiasco.

Alero could swear her interfering, stuck-up parents-in-law relished yet another opportunity to make her life miserable in a marriage she worked so hard to keep together. Kyle left for Los Angeles after their last fight. That was six months ago.

She glared at the child for a moment, walked towards the lush, white rug covered stairs, changed her mind and approached her father-in-law, who stood in the centre of the living area. Alero looked at the silver-haired, beer-bellied man who constantly stewed problems in her marriage straight in the eye, before she bent down to be at eyelevel with young Kyle.

He had her husband’s handsome features – his long, straight nose, clear grey eyes and angular jaw. Oh yes, the cute dimple on his chin and dark hair completed the picture. No doubt, he was her husband’s son. But not hers.

Tears stained her eyes but she blinked, and swallowed before she spoke.

“Hello Kyle. I wish I could stay to entertain you, but it isn’t possible. Still, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Little Kyle’s eyes flickered at his grandfather’s, and back at her. “What’s your name?”

A small ache, the size of a coin lodged in her ribs. The little boy was so cute. If only he was her child.

Quench those thoughts
, her head warned.

“My name is Alero.”

He squinted, possibly at the sound. Young Kyle didn’t attempt to repeat her name.

“You’re very beautiful.”

Alero gasped. Touched by his honest compliment. “Thank you.”

“Who are you?”

Honestly, with her heart falling to pieces, she didn’t have the will to hang around for chitchat.

“Before you walked through the door, I was your dad’s wife. But I’m not going to stick around to look after you. I wish I could. But I have to go away because my heart,” she placed one hand on the left side of her chest, “is broken.”

She fled to her bedroom. With tears streaming down her face, she threw a few clothes, undies and necessities into a compact suitcase.

Alero paused to think.

Irritated at her weakness, she wiped away a single tear drop from the corner of one eye with the back of her hand.

“There’s no time for tears,” she railed.

In one swift movement, Alero yanked her husband’s wardrobe open. And in a heartbeat, she pulled out a drawer and took out two gold coloured plastic cards. Alero shoved back the other two credit cards and closed the drawer. The small holdall already contained her documents. For months, she had agonized about leaving her husband.

When she got downstairs, Wyatt was seated on the three-cushion sofa with a beer can in front of him and, little Kyle was seated next to him with a packet of crisps in one hand, and a soft toy in the other.

Without a backward glance, Alero trudged out of her husband’s extravagant mansion. By the door, she said, “Goodbye, young Kyle.” After all, the child had no sin.

But to her father-in-law, who was hell-bent on wrecking her home, she said, “I hope you never have to watch Lydia walk out on you, Wyatt.”

Lydia, her mother-in-law, stayed away most of the time, but she was just as nosy and infuriating as her husband. Together, they had plotted to rile her to the breaking point over the years.

When she first flew in to England from Warri, located in the Niger-Delta area of Nigeria to meet his parents almost five years ago, she had hoped for a good start. It was not to be. His parents had expressed misgivings from the first day Kyle introduced her as his friend. In her world of fantasy, she had hoped to win them over. Instead, Wyatt and Lydia have remained snobbish and disapproving. After she got married to Kyle, they became cleverer in expressing their discontent. Her husband’s persistent absence had given them room to meddle in their lives.

Wyatt stood up, huffed and puffed, his puffy face as red as tomato. His reflection through the glass door was almost hilarious.

Alero slammed the door shut and drove out in her red Ford convertible mustang. The hot London summer air carried the smell of burning rubber to her nostrils. It was mid-July and the sun was at its peak.

As the warm breeze whipped her long black hair around her face and bare shoulders, male drivers in the opposite lane, near Oxford Street station, whistled to get her attention. One handsome young man, probably in his early-twenties, winked at her.

The thought of playing cougar for one night crossed her mind. At thirty, Alero felt ancient. Her high cheek bones, tapered nose, narrow lips, and dark eyes framed by long sweeping lashes set on a heart-shaped face had snagged a few men in the past. When they stopped at a red light on a busy intersection, she snatched off her wedding and engagement rings and tucked them in the coin pot on the dashboard. The diamond ring had cost a fortune. At the moment, the gems were totally worthless to her.

Her marriage nearly hit the rocks a few times in the past three years. Her honeymoon season barely lasted one year, before she realized what a smooth sleaze she married.

Okay, I guess I should share the blame for how things panned out.

“Hang on, why do I have to take part of the blame anyway? Kyle is the one who cannot keep his fly shut. Dumping his love-child on me, is one scandal too many.” Her words were swallowed up in the noisy traffic flow.

“Who says I have to put up with Kyle’s excesses because he’s rich and influential?” she murmured and sighed. “I put up with his nonsense because he found me in Warri, brought me to England, and introduced me to modelling in Los Angeles.”

Well, by the time she was through with him, Kyle would be ready to jump from the highest cliff to save himself.

The honking from the car behind startled her. The green light urged her to drive on. Alero waved one hand at the scowling driver. When she looked sideways, her eyes met the good-looking gaze of the young driver. He drove alongside in a silver Lexus convertible and he winked again.

He mouthed, “Hello beautiful.” With one hand, he touched the tip of his back-facing baseball hat and pulled it off with flourish.

Alero shook her head and smiled.

The olive-skinned bloke in a navy polo shirt perched his sunglasses on his jet-black, curly, high-top cut hair, and had what must be a killer smile on his lips.

“If you find somewhere safe to park, we can talk,” he shouted so she could hear him above the passing road traffic.

She laughed and shook her head. It felt good to be complimented twice in less than fifteen minutes. Alero tried to recall the last time her husband told her she was beautiful. There was no record in her memory. Kyle was always working. As a film director, he was too busy on location, working with the industry’s most beautiful models in Los Angeles.

The handsome driver’s persistent flirting reminded her of how Kyle hunted her night, after night to date him. Of course, she had resisted because he had a reputation for dating models. Although there was no confirmation he slept with any of them. The models kept sealed lips. Kyle liked to have a good time, but he usually drew a line. Or so she thought.

In the early months after they were married, he often referred to Alero as his most challenging date. It must have been the reason he picked her to be his bride.

Another horn blared, and she slanted her head.

“I’m waiting for your reply,” the fetching driver insisted with his brows arched.

Alero giggled. “I’m married.” She was so sure he would drive off. Instead, he laughed in her face.

“I don’t believe you. First, no rings.”

She looked at the indented, lighter part of her fourth finger, where the rings sat a short while ago.

“Secondly, if you weren’t interested in me, I would have known.”

Cocky young man, Alero concluded. “You’re too young for me,” she threw at him. It felt good to play the tease for once. It evoked memories of her modelling days. Men were drawn to her like moths to a flame. She had teased them, dated a few and had a good time, until Kyle had asked her to marry him.

Adrenalin rushed around her body. For the first time in almost six months, her flesh tingled. She toyed with the idea of having a one night stand.

Who would know?
Her heart wondered.

Alero’s good sense and beliefs warred with the thought of satisfying her lust.

Just this once
, her heart groaned.

She winked at the eager face. He was young, fine-looking and obviously wanted her body.

“If you think I’m too young, find a safe place to park and we can take it from there. I want to have a drink with you.” His dusky eyes raked her golden brown skin. Heat pooled between her thighs.

She shrugged her shoulders. “For now, you’re a distraction. I’m running away from one man, I’m not in a hurry to find another.” The sadness in her tone must have penetrated his lustful demeanour.

He sighed. “Which idiot spoiled you for me?”

Alero smiled and drove off. But not before he threw his business card into her car.

Kyle abandoned the photo shoot mid-way in Los Angeles, instructed his assistant to complete the job and flew on the next available plane to London.

You blew it this time,
his conscience mentioned for the fiftieth stint in a row.

“Shut up, you moron!” he muttered through clenched teeth.

The elderly male passenger beside him stared, his eyebrows arched wide.

“Are you at war with your conscience?” the passenger asked in a kind tone.

Kyle pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your peace.”

The man shrugged and waved his apology away. “Worry is eating at you. I can tell. Do you want to share?”

Kyle paused for a long moment.

Do I want to confide in a complete stranger?
After a while, he turned to the man. “If I don’t talk pretty soon, anyway, I’ll probably go nuts.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” the man concurred.

“I just got a call from my father. He said my wife has left me.”

He thought the man would jump in asking several questions at once, but he said nothing.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?” Kyle wondered what sort of person wasn’t curious about a bombshell like that.

“What’s the hurry? You’re going to tell me. We have a couple more hours on this flight.”

Kyle shifted in his spacious seat as if it had pins, swallowed and took a sip of the alcoholic beverage.

“I have been a complete idiot, taken better care of work and left her alone with all the comforts a woman could ever hope for.” Admitting he had failed his wife hurt so much. Kyle Thomson had never been linked with failure.

“Is that all?” His fellow passenger’s question implied Kyle had more to say.

Kyle glared at the man.

The older man with silver hair at his temple, stared right back.

Kyle wrenched away his gaze. “Who are you? A priest? You look at me as if you can see right through my soul.” The large balls of cotton wool floating across the sky caught Kyle’s attention. He always took the window seat in first class. The endless stretch of blue sky dotted with white balls usually calmed his nerves, but not on this occasion. The hypnotic sight suggested there was a mighty being somewhere who was in control of the universe.

At the moment, his mind churned over his wife’s persistent complaints.

“I haven’t had sex with her in several months.” As the words left his mouth, he covered his face in guilt. He was a disgrace. Alero was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and she had given him a hard time before he could get in between her legs.

“Is there any reason you shirked your marital responsibilities?” Though his companion’s question was softly spoken, it felt like a whiplash on his battered conscience.

Kyle winced. “There’s no good enough reason. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m speaking to a complete stranger about my problems.”

The man kept his eyes shut. “I’m listening,” he replied as if Kyle was a problem child. “Life deals you various cards. The decision on what to do with each card is yours to make. So what are you going to do about your situation?”

Kyle rubbed his jaw. “I’m going to find her and bring her back home where she belongs.” There was certainty in his words. Only his heart faltered.

The man laughed.

“What’s funny?” Kyle wondered what was comical about his marriage falling apart.

“How long have you been married?”

“Four years at the start of the year.”

“Did you celebrate your wedding anniversary with your wife?”

Why did this man’s query set his teeth on edge? Kyle shook his head. Alero had called him during the weeks leading up to January thirtieth, to remind him to fly home, to celebrate. He had told her there was no time. Work and other commitments had his name tag. A million dollar project in LA for Walt Disney, and a tennis tournament he could not cast off. How could he jettison his career and his reputation to celebrate his wedding anniversary? Now, the old man’s question stabbed his scruples and he recoiled in his seat.

“There are many things you need to learn. Many things. A woman can remain loyal with her body and soul until she finds a good reason not to.”

How comforting,
Kyle almost sneered. “My father said something happened, she drove away, and threatened not to return.”

“Your father takes care of your wife in your absence?”

Kyle groaned. He wanted to disappear from this man’s all-knowing sight. He seemed to cut a powerful punch to Kyle’s guts. Alero despised his parents for reasons he failed to understand. She often told him she hated the way they interfered in their marriage.

“I only wanted my family to keep an eye on her, but she resented it.”

The man nodded with his lips pressed together. “Aha! We’re getting somewhere. Young man, when you have lived as long as I have, you learn to keep your family far away from your marriage.”

Kyle turned to face the man, but he stared ahead. “What do you mean?”

“I pray you win your wife back. Don’t think the road to a successful marriage is paved with gold, and the fine things of life.” He paused. “A woman is like a tender bud. She needs your constant attention, complimentary remarks, and many other little things you probably have taken for granted for her to blossom and remain by your side. Hope for the best, my friend.”

Kyle shrank back in his seat. His score card was freaking red! He had failed his wife. It was so simple to see after the frank discussion with a man he barely knew.

“I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping Alero away from my work. I was scared to lose her,” Kyle mumbled. Even to his ears, his words reeked of selfishness. He swallowed and downed the half-full glass of burning liquid.

“Never mind, there’s hope for you,” the stranger encouraged.

For a long period, Kyle curled into a ball and brooded. The man let him drown his sorrow in silence.

As the plane prepared for landing, the man removed the scarf around his neck.

Kyle’s jaw dropped open. “You’re a priest?” No wonder he felt as if the man could see his soul. The priest collar had stayed safely tucked away beneath his muffler.

“Yes sir, and so I am. A retired clergy. Here, take this bible. I have scribbled my name and address on the inside, somewhere. If you ever need to talk, come over to see me. My darling wife, Aileen would be delighted to cook you a meal. We’ve been married, forty-five years.” With that last remark, the clergyman disappeared.

Kyle’s trembling fingers clutched the holy book. He felt too stained to even hold the book. But he didn’t have the heart to thrust it aside. The old man could have been an angel, he sure acted like one.