A Fight For Love

“Yeah, have a great day,” Desiree said as Cynthia shut the door. She took the sticky pancake dish to the kitchen and cleaned up while Rochelle went on watching TV. When she was done, Desiree went back to her room and neatly arranged the covers before jumping in in the shower. She had no plan for the day, but she thought she could at least freshen up. Thoroughly scrubbed, she put on a comfortable pair of black jeans and a slightly faded turquoise tube top. She held her freshly washed hair up and returned to her bed. She retrieved her phone from the dressing table and noticed that she had three messages from Taylor. She tapped on the thread and read through the messages.

Morning babe. I was at the store but they told me you had taken the day off. Maybe we could do some lunch later. Call me.

Scratch that. How about we have dinner instead?

I’ll cook.

There was a cheery emoticon next to his last text. Desiree smiled fondly as she began typing.

Dinner sounds great. I’ll meet you at your place tonight.

She sent the text and then sat at her desk.

“Might as well check out my emails,” she thought as she scrolled through her unread messages. “Spam…scam…spam…..really?” she thought in surprise as she saw a message from her ex Leon. “You do not ever give up, do you?” she muttered irritably as she clicked on a message she knew was going to be a transparently manipulative plea for reconciliation.

Hey Dee.

It has been a while and I have to talk to you and THIS is the only way I can do it since you NO LONGER pick up my calls or reply to my messages. I know I said that I wouldn’t contact you again, but it is getting increasingly hard to keep my mind off you. At first I thought that you were just jealous but I now understand. I should have been more upfront about my marriage. But Dee, the truth is that my wife and I were over a long time before I met you, and I have already told her that I don’t love her anymore, and that I want to be free to love you but she won’t let me go. I miss you, Dee and I will never love anyone the way I love you. You have spoilt me for other women, I just want you. I need you, babe. Just come back to me.

Your ‘one and only’

Leon

Desiree rolled her eyes as she deleted the message. Just then, she heard the chirp of a new message. She looked at the screen and sighed when she saw a text from Leon had just come in.

I emailed you but I never got a reply. Please, just tell me when I can see you. I am staying at the Royale penthouse. I would LOVE it if you would come over and see me sometime.

She shook her head in anger as she put the phone on the bed. Too angry to think, she was initially lost for a solution to deal with this increasingly intrusive pest. As her anger abated, a plan began to form . In one decisive action, she picked up her purse and walked out. When she got to the living room, she found Rochelle signing for a bouquet of red long stemmed roses.

“Somebody misses you a bit too much,” Rochelle said smiling awkwardly. Desiree strode over to where she was and pulled the card from the vaguely tacky arrangement. She looked at the name at the bottom and tore it up before tossing the shredded piece of paper on the flowers. “Hey, that’s no way to receive such a loving gesture,” Rochelle said.

“Well, the person they are from does not deserve a minute of my time,”. Rochelle frowned as she tried dusting the pieces of shredded paper from the petals.

“Well, the flowers are beautiful. I am going to put them in some water,” she said.

“No, toss them,” Desiree said with unusual abruptness as she looked in her purse.

“Why?” Rochelle asked.

“Because I said so,” Desiree said with finality. Rochelle looked at her and shook her head.

“Excuse me?” she asked, bewildered.

“You heard me. I don’t want to see those damn flowers when I come back,” Desiree said.

“Wait, when you get back? Where from? I thought you were going to stay indoors today,” Rochelle said.

“Well, I was, but now I think the best thing is for me to tell the a*shole that sent those flowers that I am not interested in any of his controlling gestures,” Desiree said.

“Wait? Did Mark send them?” Rochelle asked.

“No, Leon did and he also sent me a very disturbing text,” Desiree said. Rochelle, nervous giggled, with adolescent awkwardness.

“Please tell me more,” she said in a dramatic voice.

“This is nothing to laugh about. He said he is at the Royale penthouse,” Desiree said primly.

“At the Royale? Is his house getting fumigated or something?” Rochelle asked.

“No, I think he is leaving his wife. And I hate to sound like a self-righteous bi*ch, but there is no way I am going to let that fool ruin his life…or whatever is left of it, for me, especially since there is no hope for the two of us ever being together,” Desiree said. Rochelle nodded and placed the flowers on the counter.

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“What else can I do? I need to make wake up and smell the coffee,” Desiree said before walking out with the door left open. When she finally heard Rochelle tentatively close it behind her, she was already half way down the stairs. Playing through her mind were all the words she planned on telling Leon – but she did not think that words alone could deter him. The man was obsessive to the point of being almost psychotic. The media was full of people who refused to accept reality and how such people carried out their twisted revenge. Hell, those were the kind pf people Criminal Minds was based on. The ride to the Royale seemed to be longer than usual, even though the hotel was just a few blocks away.

They finally arrived. Leon insisted, despite available evidence, this was a ‘four star accommodation’. After informing an uninterested receptionist of where she was going, she entered the elevator, trying desperately to put the words into an order that would penetrate Leon’s one-dimensional brain.

There was no telling what Leon was thinking though, or why he was even holding on to the shred of hope that the two would one day be together. As she rode up, she wondered what Leon’s family must be going through. The two beautiful children she had seen in the photo. Surely, they did not deserve this. They did not deserve to be fathered by a man who placed his own selfish and delusional desires above their future. When the elevator doors opened, Leon was standing there, smiling hopefully. She looked at him and then walked right past him and into the vaguely vulgar suite. She then turned around and looked at him dispassionately.

“You need to stop contacting me,” she said in a cold voice.

“Dee, after all we’ve been through, surely you could say hi first,” Leon said reproachfully as he looked at her.

“I don’t see the need to exchange pleasantries, Leon,” she said.

“Babe, please,” Leon said.

“Don’t call me that. You lost that right when you lied to me about…everything,” she said.

“At least have a seat or have something. Some wine maybe?” he said with a hopeful smile. He walked to the kitchenette and began unscrewing, as though her statement was utterly irrelevant.

“It’s ten in the morning,” she said contemptuously.