Friday, October 14, 2005
Prelude part 2 (three months before)
"You son of a bitch!" Melody almost yelled and slapped Sam across his face. This definitely wasn't how the night was supposed to go.
An hour earlier Sam picked Melody up at her house in honor of their six month anniversary. Melody spent most of the day getting ready. Both of her house mates (she owned, they payed her rent, which in turn went directly to the bank to pay off the mortgage) were out for the day at work, or where ever (Melody was never sure what exactly Devi did during the day, but she never really worked up the courage to ask). Though she did want their advice, the solitude gave her time to think, put things straight, and she resolved she would come clean tonight.
Wracked with nervous tension, Melody didn't want to ruin anything. Sam Warwick was the best thing that ever happened to her. He was the sweetest most caring man, and he loved her, at least she was pretty sure he loved her. If the sex was a litmus test of love there was no room for doubt. Unfortunately she knew that great sex doesn't always have anything to do with love and for this reason - amongst some others - she was scared he'd leave her after she told him. That being said, she knew she no didn't have a choice. Whether or not he loved her, she loved him and it was important for him to know so their relationship could have a future.
At 28 this was the longest relationship she had been in since high school, but any relationship before she turned 22 didn't count - at least not as far as she was concerned.
There were too many choices to make, and she hated choices. Black dress, or red dress, flats or heels, hair up or down (she had to do it herself as her hairdresser was on vacation) and the real questions: how much cleavage should she present. This in her mind was the pivotal question, this tore right to the root of the matter. Sexy was important, and she was proud of her breasts (they cost a pretty penny to be as perfectly sculpted as they were) but too much might well turn into a negative instead of a positive. She really wanted to talk to Rufus but she knew it wouldn't be possible.
The dinner itself was divine. She really couldn't ask for much more. The food, the company, the conversation, it was all everything she could have asked for.
By the time dessert was served she knew she couldn't delay much longer. But before she could start she found her words coming out of Sam's mouth.
"Melody, there's something I need to tell you. It's not something I'm proud of, but before we can really move on with our relationship, and I want to move on with our relationship, there's something I need to tell you." Sam said.
"Me too." Melody said lamely feeling a bit like a horrid mimic instead of a real person.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you, and you deserve honesty. So I'm just going to come out and say it.... I'm married."
Melody put her cup down. This was not at all the sort of news she expected. She didn't know what she expected but this wasn't it.
"You're married?"
"Yes, and I have a 12 year old daughter."
"You're married?"
"Yes, but I love you, and I'll leave my wife in an instant if you say you love me too."
"You son of a bitch!" Melody almost yelled and slapped Sam across his face.
Fuming couldn't even begin to describe how she was feeling. Married? Married, this son of a bitch was married? What the fuck was he doing with me? I'm the other woman? I can't believe I'm the other woman? How did I not know he was married? This is the smallest fucking town in all of fucking New England. Everybody knows everybody, and I didn't know he was married? But he said he loves me. He really loves me. You can't help who you love. And I do love him. Even though.... I do, I know I do. Maybe it can work. Maybe this will make everything easier. Yeah. Maybe...
"I'm sorry." Melody said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I'm sorry." Now much more calm and aware of all the eyes of the other restaurant patrons now focused on their table.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes. You're a son of a bitch but I love you." And Sam smiled the biggest happiest smile Melody had ever seen in her entire life.
"You love me? Marry me. Marry me and we'll run away together. Who cares where. You and me."
"As long as we're coming clean, there's something I need to tell you."
"If that's a yes, you can tell me anything."
"Yes, I'll marry you." Melody said smiling.
Sam jumped up onto his chair and yelled out, "She said yes, we're getting married. Champagne for everyone!" And the restaurant lit up in cheer.
As the champagne was poured into long flutes, Melody pulled together all of her courage. "Sam?"
"Yes?" He said brimming over with joy.
"When I was twenty-two I had gender reassignment surgery, then a year of other plastic surgery to complete everything."
A pause as his forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"I don't understand."
"When I was twenty-two I had a sex change operation. I used to physically be a man."
Sam still didn't register the information. As if there was some mental block that wouldn't allow him to take it in. "I was born a man."
"But... but we've had sex."
"Great sex."
"You're a man?"
"Never, I just was born with a man's body."
"But we've had sex..." He said almost pleading.
"Yes."
And without any further explanation or discussion, before he could even wash back the crisp clean champagne he ordered, Sam blanched, vomited, then promptly passed out.
Go to prelude part three here ¶ 10/14/2005 05:30:00 PM
"You son of a bitch!" Melody almost yelled and slapped Sam across his face. This definitely wasn't how the night was supposed to go.
An hour earlier Sam picked Melody up at her house in honor of their six month anniversary. Melody spent most of the day getting ready. Both of her house mates (she owned, they payed her rent, which in turn went directly to the bank to pay off the mortgage) were out for the day at work, or where ever (Melody was never sure what exactly Devi did during the day, but she never really worked up the courage to ask). Though she did want their advice, the solitude gave her time to think, put things straight, and she resolved she would come clean tonight.
Wracked with nervous tension, Melody didn't want to ruin anything. Sam Warwick was the best thing that ever happened to her. He was the sweetest most caring man, and he loved her, at least she was pretty sure he loved her. If the sex was a litmus test of love there was no room for doubt. Unfortunately she knew that great sex doesn't always have anything to do with love and for this reason - amongst some others - she was scared he'd leave her after she told him. That being said, she knew she no didn't have a choice. Whether or not he loved her, she loved him and it was important for him to know so their relationship could have a future.
At 28 this was the longest relationship she had been in since high school, but any relationship before she turned 22 didn't count - at least not as far as she was concerned.
There were too many choices to make, and she hated choices. Black dress, or red dress, flats or heels, hair up or down (she had to do it herself as her hairdresser was on vacation) and the real questions: how much cleavage should she present. This in her mind was the pivotal question, this tore right to the root of the matter. Sexy was important, and she was proud of her breasts (they cost a pretty penny to be as perfectly sculpted as they were) but too much might well turn into a negative instead of a positive. She really wanted to talk to Rufus but she knew it wouldn't be possible.
The dinner itself was divine. She really couldn't ask for much more. The food, the company, the conversation, it was all everything she could have asked for.
By the time dessert was served she knew she couldn't delay much longer. But before she could start she found her words coming out of Sam's mouth.
"Melody, there's something I need to tell you. It's not something I'm proud of, but before we can really move on with our relationship, and I want to move on with our relationship, there's something I need to tell you." Sam said.
"Me too." Melody said lamely feeling a bit like a horrid mimic instead of a real person.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you, and you deserve honesty. So I'm just going to come out and say it.... I'm married."
Melody put her cup down. This was not at all the sort of news she expected. She didn't know what she expected but this wasn't it.
"You're married?"
"Yes, and I have a 12 year old daughter."
"You're married?"
"Yes, but I love you, and I'll leave my wife in an instant if you say you love me too."
"You son of a bitch!" Melody almost yelled and slapped Sam across his face.
Fuming couldn't even begin to describe how she was feeling. Married? Married, this son of a bitch was married? What the fuck was he doing with me? I'm the other woman? I can't believe I'm the other woman? How did I not know he was married? This is the smallest fucking town in all of fucking New England. Everybody knows everybody, and I didn't know he was married? But he said he loves me. He really loves me. You can't help who you love. And I do love him. Even though.... I do, I know I do. Maybe it can work. Maybe this will make everything easier. Yeah. Maybe...
"I'm sorry." Melody said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I'm sorry." Now much more calm and aware of all the eyes of the other restaurant patrons now focused on their table.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes. You're a son of a bitch but I love you." And Sam smiled the biggest happiest smile Melody had ever seen in her entire life.
"You love me? Marry me. Marry me and we'll run away together. Who cares where. You and me."
"As long as we're coming clean, there's something I need to tell you."
"If that's a yes, you can tell me anything."
"Yes, I'll marry you." Melody said smiling.
Sam jumped up onto his chair and yelled out, "She said yes, we're getting married. Champagne for everyone!" And the restaurant lit up in cheer.
As the champagne was poured into long flutes, Melody pulled together all of her courage. "Sam?"
"Yes?" He said brimming over with joy.
"When I was twenty-two I had gender reassignment surgery, then a year of other plastic surgery to complete everything."
A pause as his forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"I don't understand."
"When I was twenty-two I had a sex change operation. I used to physically be a man."
Sam still didn't register the information. As if there was some mental block that wouldn't allow him to take it in. "I was born a man."
"But... but we've had sex."
"Great sex."
"You're a man?"
"Never, I just was born with a man's body."
"But we've had sex..." He said almost pleading.
"Yes."
And without any further explanation or discussion, before he could even wash back the crisp clean champagne he ordered, Sam blanched, vomited, then promptly passed out.
Go to prelude part three here ¶ 10/14/2005 05:30:00 PM
