Single But Engaged ✔️

2: Just an extension with lots of sex

“So, are you going to…hold on a minute.” There was a slight pause and then: “Darren, would you turn that shit the hell down! I can’t even hear myself!”

I barely managed to grasp the response of: “sorry, sweet pea” that followed her yell, as it was drowned in the heavy metal song which was blasting loudly in the background. And a moment later, all that could be heard was the stillness of silence. 

Satisfied, she blew out an exasperated breath and returned to the call. “So, are you going to your dad’s for the summer break?”

“No.”

I could imagine her nodding her head slowly as she said, “makes sense.” But I knew her well enough to tell that wasn’t the end of the matter.

Hence, I wasn’t surprised when she added, “who would want to be with him and his Mrs. Prim and Proper wife? I’m telling you, that woman might have that whole goody-goody act going on, but I’m not buying it.”

I drew out a breath, already aware of all that would follow. She did this every single time – right from when I was a kid. She’d proceed to say how Kelly, my dad’s wife, wasn’t as nice as she seemed; how she tried to turn dad against us; and how she despised the fact that her husband had a child outside of their marriage. 

With all the things she’d told me, I remember my five-year-old self being terrified the first time my dad asked that I spend the weekend with his family. As we inched closer to his house, with me riding shotgun in his sleek black car, my little hands wound tightly together, dreading our imminent arrival. 

In my head, I envisioned Kelly to be this coldblooded witch, with horns growing out of her head, and spiky teeth ready to lounge at me in attack. 

Hence, imagine my surprise when we arrived, only to be welcomed by a bright-eyed, smiling redhead, who held me in a long hug, after which she proceeded to show me the room she set up for me, face beaming all the while.

It turned out the scheming Kelly that had been described to me, and the one who was always eager to treat me to lots of cookies and ice cream, were two entirely different people. And of course, my five-year-old self dabbled between which version was true. 

I’d stand at the doorway, sneaking peeks at her as she played with the baby who dad told me was Bella, my younger sister. 

To be honest, a little part of me was watching to see whether her evil fangs would suddenly pop out. But if she did have them, they never did pop out. 

Instead, she’d turn to me with a gentle smile on her face, saying, “hey, Aria. What are you doing standing out there? Come in.” Then, she’d ask if I wanted to play with Bella. 

And when I’d timidly nod, she’d lay Bella on the mat, and I’d watch with childish glee as her little hands reached up for my pinky. 

By the time of my third visit to my dad’s, I was eight, and wise enough to know for certain that Kelly was anything but the two-faced person she was painted out to be. 

But twelve years later, and my mom still hadn’t changed her opinion of Kelly; her recent rants were proof.

“Ok, mom, that’s enough please,” I mused, fingers reaching to gently massage my temple. Hearing mom go on her Kelly rant never got less tiring. “And my not going to dad’s place has nothing to do with Kelly. You know she’s a really nice person.”

“I never should have let your dad take you on those weekends; she’s got you trapped under her spell too.”

The eye roll couldn’t be helped. But of course, I knew better than to try to argue with her on this. “Mom, let’s just drop this,” I stated placidly. And hoping to win her over once and for all, I used the magic words: “I really don’t want to talk about Kelly right now.”