The Poison Morality (30 page)

After a couple of hours at the pub, Sophie and Oliver talked about everything except what happened with the understanding that at least Sophie’s part was resolved even though Oliver’s was not.   She filled him in on what she had been doing since the last time he saw her which was read but she related a tale of one of the books that she was reading and he hung on her every word.

But he didn’t go into what he had done, she already knew about breaking and entering and Mariella in the hospital.  But he had to ask one question he tried to hold back.  “Why did you sneak out Sophie?”

“I didn’t sneak out.  Well I guess I did but I didn’t want to wake you and then I lost my phone.”

“So,” he reached out and touched the top of her hand, “you’re alright with…”

“Can we join you?”  Neither Oliver nor Sophie realized the couple had approached the table.  Sophie saw Oliver’s reaction, annoyance hidden by a polite smile when they both looked at the blonde holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.  Dressed professionally, her simple skirt and top wouldn’t have seemed seductive at all but her hair fell thick on her shoulders and the bright lipstick glistened on her lips.  Without acknowledging Sophie at all, she smiled at Oliver.  The man, however, focused solely on Sophie, unnerving her the way he looked her over, observing her.   

Without waiting for an answer, the woman sat beside Oliver and the man sat beside Sophie.  She would have been more comfortable if it had been the other way around.  The man’s demeanour was abrupt, not fluid like Oliver’s graceful movements.  He smiled down at her; she smiled politely then looked down at her hands.  Handsome though he was, he was obviously very sure of his appeal to women, his full mouth and hazel eyes stood out under very long lashes. When his thigh inadvertently brushed against hers, she slid over in the booth and stared at the rain flowing down the window outside, distorting the lights of the traffic passing. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”  Mona could tell Oliver was agitated but she didn’t care.

“Sophie,” he introduced them to her as opposed to the other way around, “this is Adam and Mona,” his tone changed when he said her name, lower, intimate.  Sophie searched for the appropriate words, reminding herself as she looked around at the groups of people, this is what normal people do, this is socializing and Oliver’s friends can be her friends.  “Pleased to meet you,” she said mimicking what she saw in the movies.

Mona looked Sophie over, young, very young, dark eyes, long thick hair, lovely.  But there was something else about her, the way her hands moved nervously, the only makeup she wore was to hide a bruise on her cheekbone.  Mona knew Oliver had not done that but proved her theory about his need to come to the aid of defeated women she asked, “Is this your new girlfriend, Oliver?”

Before he could respond, Sophie spoke up firmly, “Friends, we’re just friends.”  Off put by the question, it came out desperate and defensive.  They had apparently talked about her before, knowing that made her even more nervous and a little suspicious.

Oliver studied her face.  He placed his elbows on the table, his hands clasped together and pressed against his mouth; she could see the smile gone from his eyes when she glanced up from her own hands fidgeting. 

The definition of their relationship as just friends proclaimed by Sophie was disappointing and he knew she wasn’t lying for their company’s benefit and it was the definitive answer to the question he was getting ready to ask when they were interrupted.  It was her prerogative; he couldn’t make her love him anymore than Mona could make him love her and it explained how she felt about the night they were together.  He and Mona floated down the same river of rejection and suddenly his feelings towards Mona were more understanding.  Apparently that night of lovemaking took them a step back not forward as he hoped.

Mona caught Adam’s glance, her eyebrows shot up and eyes wide, they both understood what had just happened.  Trouble in paradise could mean getting lucky for the both of them.  Adam poured the wine for all.

Sophie cleared her throat, breaking the tension by attempting small talk, “Do you two work with Oliver at the hospital?”

“Yes,” Mona droned, “we’re doctors too,” not asking Sophie anything about herself.  “But Oliver and I have been more than colleagues.”  Mona’s thigh rubbed against Oliver’s as her foot slid seductively up and down Adam’s leg.

Oliver didn’t stop her.  Sophie’s proclamation had dashed his hopes for them and there was something comforting in the idea of him and Mona’s consistent arrangement in the past.  Mona loved him though, so her motives were no longer the same as his, if they ever were. 

Sophie opened her mouth to respond to Mona’s attempt to make her jealous but Adam interrupted.  “I work in trauma.”  For some reason women really responded to that.  Her foot stroking his leg told him more than her face did.  A fake smile and an “oh,” was all that he got however.

Mona smiled, self-satisfied.  Knowing Adam as she did, if he thought for one second Sophie was interested in him, he would make his moves on her, keeping her distracted as she coaxed Oliver.  His attention would be harder to keep but men were so easily manipulated.

“She’s not the one then,” Mona whispered in Oliver’s ear.  Adam’s deep voice speaking low to Sophie, he could no longer hear what he was saying as the pub filled up with people.

Oliver turned to stare down into her face, eyes half closed; she was watching his lips and licking her own.  He knew what she wanted; her body language had never been subtle.  “I still don’t love you, Mona.  You can’t make me feel what I don’t.”

“No more than you can make Sophie love you by dressing her wounds and being her caretaker.”

“She and I have shared more than you and I ever did.  There’s more to love than being lovers.”

“I would have given up everything to be with you but as it stands I will take what I can get of you,” her hand played with his belt buckle, “and I can make you forget what it feels like to love someone that doesn’t love you back, even if it means pretending for both of us for just a couple of hours”.  Oliver looked at Sophie, Adam sitting too close to her, his mouth close to her ear, she listened intently.  His body began to respond to Mona’s gestures and his own resentment at the interruption.  If they had not come, he would still be ignorant of Sophie’s feelings and under the delusion that they were more.

Sophie didn’t like Mona sitting so close to Oliver, she could see out of the corner of her eye that her hands were under the table and Oliver looked down at her red mouth.  Sophie’s imagination went wild at what must be transpiring under the table on the other side while she tried to avoid being touched without seeming to be rude. 

Adam proceeded to talk about his work but the clean scent of his aftershave and pouty bottom lip made her ponder how different his kiss would be than Oliver’s, they were so different in personality.  Would Oliver care?  Would he notice?

“I can see you’ve been hurt,” he said sliding a knuckle delicately down her cheek bone, over the bruise, “I’m sure Oliver has taken good care of you, I can do the same.”  Moving her head a few inches away from his hand didn’t faze him at all, his hand slid from her cheekbone to her jawline. 

“I’m sure you could,” she replied and then regretting the phrase when he lifted her hand he saw the faint red marks, a thrill coursed through him.  Sophie realized he had mistaken her compliment as an advance.  He took her hand and traced the line on her wrist, her pulse quickened under his thumb.

In Sophie naiveté, his hint had fallen unnoticed on her, thinking at first his interest in her wounds were purely medical speculation.  But she wanted to scream, wanted to back away but something else kept her there, waiting for Oliver to intervene but he seemed engrossed in whatever Mona was saying.  He had been so angry about what happened to her the other night but now didn’t seem to mind at all.

Oliver could see Adam touch Sophie’s face and for the first time in a long time he thought violent thoughts but he directed the energy inwards, sexual tension growing within him.  Sophie could take any lover she liked as could he.  He was a fool to think she would look at him with loving eyes just because he had been there to pick up the pieces.  Now that he changed her perception about sex, she could choose to do it with whomever she liked.

They were not exclusive, according to her.  She was the one that dictated that and he was agitated again, Mona’s lips brushed his but he moved his head back.  He didn’t want to be inside Mona any more than he could imagine Adam inside Sophie but his body was betraying that thought.  He closed his eyes and breathed heavily as her hand slid below his belt.

“Poor Oliver.  My heart,” she took his hand and placed it above her breast, “would break over and over for you.”  Moving his fingertips over the swell of her breast he remembered what she felt like, hot and willing and Sophie, hesitant and curious.  A couple of hours at her place and he could leave whenever he wanted, anything to take Sophie’s words out of his head.

Sophie saw Oliver’s hand on Mona’s breast, his fingertips sliding back and forth over the curve of it.  She remembered how the light feathery touches Oliver gave as opposed to the pressing glide of Adam’s fondling. 

Downing the remainder of the wine, she found bravery in the alcohol and an unfamiliar feeling fuelled by what was happening across the table.  “Ignore them, they do this all the time,” Adam took Sophie’s chin between his thumb and finger, turning her head towards him and his mouth came closer to hers.  She couldn’t hear the words between Oliver and Mona struggling to try to read their lips but every time she looked over, they weren’t talking, just looking at each other with that smouldering look, the look he gave her before he had kissed her the first time on the lips, on the neck, on her wrists.

Another secret he hadn’t told her but why would he tell her about past relationships.  He was normal, not like she, having lived with her head in the sand.  She had assumed that he had many relationships in the past but here one was across the table, seductively touching him and he not resisting.

Her foot had ceased rubbing Adam’s leg but where she left off; he took over, sliding her sleeve up to tickle the inside of her arm to the crook of her elbow.  “I can make you forget this,” he said, touching her face again, “and these too,” his lips kissed the raised red marks on her wrist and she saw Mona’s lips touch Oliver’s and her stomach dropped like she was falling, she pushed against Adam’s chest. 

At first he didn’t budge but smiled at her amused until she pushed with her whole body.  Focusing on the door, all these strange emotions filled her up, giving her the strength to get out.  The door was her salvation, the street would mean freedom from the confusing feelings she was experiencing, running from the three of them.  She grabbed what she hoped was her coat, not really looking and ran out into the rain.

Adam yielded and let her go, Oliver yelled for her but his voice faded in the noise of the crowd and the clanking of plates and glasses.  Pushing people out of the way, finally the spring air cooled her heated face, the rain had lightened into a drizzle.  The sidewalk felt uneven underneath her feet as she rushed down it.

Oliver had practically lifted Mona out of the way without apology and ran after Sophie.  Outside the door, he looked the direction towards her flat but didn’t see her then looking towards his flat, he saw her rushing, arms straight by her side, hands curled into fists.  How would he fix this?  Friends were fine, more than fine better than her anger.  There was no need for things to have gotten out of hand as they did. 

Adam and Mona sat quietly for a moment.  Adam chuckled at the look on Mona’s face, “Well that didn’t seem to backfire, did it,” he said sarcastically, pouring the last of the wine into their glasses.

“She’s young, beautiful, and damaged.  I can’t compete with that.  She’s the perfect woman for him and it breaks my heart to say so,” she ignored her glass and pressed her lips to Oliver’s abandoned glass, closing her eyes, letting the wine pour into her mouth, taking the last of him in.

“I’m sure you could find someone to knock you about a bit,” she glared at him over the rim of the glass as he gulped his, “He would take care of you, if you went to him, he would have to, the good and noble Oliver.”

“As ever you’re so perceptive.  I’m not talking about physical damage, the kind that heals.  I’m talking about deep rooted pain from emotional damage.  Working in trauma you would think you would have picked up on that,” sipping the last of Oliver’s wine, she shrugged, “but you’re not a woman, we are intuitive with these things.”

“To use against each other no doubt, in your scheming,” he understood women better than she gave him credit for.  “No matter, thought I was in there though.”

“Oh, I was hoping you were too,” Mona agreed.

“One minute she was rubbing my leg, the next she was running away,” it was a shame, he would have enjoyed making her forget about Oliver.

Mona sighed, she was agitated that things had not gone her way but her body still needed release, “That was me, you git.  My God, men are so gullible.  Play with your ego a bit and you’re putty.”

“You,” he looked surprised and smiled, “I’m still hard,” she had refused him many times before but it was the first time Oliver had refused her.

“Fine, let’s go,” gulping the wine she stood.

Catching up to her, Oliver grabbed Sophie’s arm but she jerked it away and turned on him.  “What was all that about,” blaming him was the best she could do.