Bethany Sutton Chapter 8

It was during the quiet moments of her morning routine that Beth found she was able to do her best thinking. Thoughts seemed to come easier while she went through the familiar motions of showering, brushing her teeth, and putting coffee on to brew, that she was able to come up with the most sensible solutions to the problems she faced in life. That was not so on Sunday morning when she awoke to slightly sore muscles, and her heart involved in a tug-of-war with her mind over what she should or shouldn’t feel concerning Daryl Dixon.

He was simply stretched too thin. They weren’t going to work on the flowerbeds that afternoon because he had massage appointments at the Lakeshore Country Club, out at Glory Lake. Then at four p.m. he would have to spend his evening, as he put it, ‘servicing’ Ophelia. The idea of Daryl fucking that horrid woman turned Beth’s stomach. It was also like a twist to her heart that he could still be with her after…

After what? Beth wondered. After they’d become friends? After they’d almost kissed on the rooftop? She figured she shouldn’t delude herself into thinking it meant anything to him. He was a whore who pleased women for a living. She was just another female. He’d displayed sexual interest in her, so what? She imagined he could display sexual interest in Ruby, she thought bitterly, if the money was right.

Don’t fool yourself into thinking your special. He gets paid to make women believe they mean something to him when they don't. He's an actor, and a damn good one, her brain said. You’re just one more woman in a very long list of women.

He feels something for you and you know it, her heart argued.

He’ll never stop adding women to that list, her brain advised.

You can make him stop. All you have to do is love him, be what he needs, and he’ll put those other women aside, her heart insisted.

Beth miserably watched some show on TV that she couldn’t have followed the plot to if her life depended on it. Her mind told her that many a women had wasted their lives thinking they could change a man who didn’t want to, while hear heart told her that love could accomplish anything.

A knock at the door surprised Beth. Despite her dark thoughts and her anger with him for planning to fuck Ophelia that night, she still hoped it was Daryl, coming to tell her he was taking a day -- and a night -- off from his duties. Instead she spotted Lori Grimes through the peep. She opened the door and Lori held up a brown paper bag dotted with grease stains.

“Cherry Danish from the Bean and Brew Bakery,” she said cheerfully. “It’s the good stuff, too, loaded with fat and sugar.”

“Sounds good. Come in. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. How do you like yours?”

“Like Rick likes his women: Black and strong.”

Beth giggled and poured a plain cup of coffee for Lori, while she added cream to hers. She didn’t add sugar since the Danish would supply plenty of that to sweeten the bitter brew.

“They’re as big as manhole covers,” Beth noticed.

“I know,” Lori said, adding a wiggle of her brows.

Though it was nice to have the pastries and the company, Beth had a feeling there was a purpose to Lori’s visit and she was curious what it was. Thankfully, Lori didn’t take long to get to the point.

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk. You were in poor spirits when I first got here, understandably so.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was kind of rude,” Beth said.

“No, don’t worry about it. You already know I’m divorced from Rick. You don’t know why, I take it?”

Beth shook her head. “Something to do with Michonne, I’d guess. The way they are with each other. I get the feeling something’s going on.”

“Oh, Honey, you don’t know the half of it. Something’s been going on with them for almost twenty years.”

“Really?” Beth said, intrigued.

“Rick and Michonne were a couple for about three years before I met him. She went off to join the Army. The distance was too much for Rick so he broke up with Michonne to date me. I wound up pregnant so Rick and I married. That was a mistake. Never marry just because of a pregnancy. Anyway, it was good for awhile. Or so I told myself.”

Beth was both curious and confused. She was curious what Lori would reveal next and confused as to why she was talking about her past with Rick.

“What do you mean you ‘told’ yourself it was good?”

“I began to realize that I was Rick’s wife but he was Michonne’s husband, not mine. We spent ten years of marriage waiting on two different things. I was waiting on Rick to get over Michonne and he was waiting on me to hate him enough to let him go so he could be with her after she got out of the Army.”

“That’s terrible,” Beth said, feeling sorry for Lori.

“It would be easy to put all the blame on Rick, and for a long time I did. Michonne too. Over time I began to realize that all three of us were at fault in that mess, not just him. Michonne’s part in it all was that she chose a career over Rick. Rick’s part in it was using me to warm his bed until he could find his way back to the woman he really loved; Michonne. My part in it all was in thinking I could change Rick from the man he was into the man I wanted him to be, that I could win his heart when he’d long since given it to someone else.”

Beth felt her heart ache and tears sting at her eyes. Part of her, the logical part in her mind, had already told her that a woman couldn’t change a man who didn’t want to change. She finally understood where Lori was going with this talk. It was hard to hear but she made herself listen.

“I saw you on the roof with Dixon yesterday,” Lori said kindly. She put a hand on Beth’s and squeezed. It was a comforting touch that Beth appreciated. “I just want to tell you, Beth: don’t give your heart to a man who can’t, or won’t, put you first. You may think you can share his body with those other women as long as you have his heart, but there will come a point when you realize that if you truly had his heart, he wouldn’t be able to have those other women in his bed.”

Beth let the tears fall. She was helpless to stop them because she knew Lori was right.

“I know you’re right. I keep telling myself similar things but my damn heart wants to be with him.”

“The brain v. the heart. I fought that war for years. In the end my brain won but not before my heart was forever scarred.”

“Do you hate Rick?”

“Oh, God, no. I love him. I’m just not in love with him anymore. He’s a good man, despite his faults. He’s a good father and he’s become a good friend to me. It’s rare that people can go through what Rick and I went through and come out of it as friends, real friends, but we have. I’ll tell you what: finish that pastry and in an hour or so we’ll go down to Meadow Park together to run it off.”

“It looks like rain.”

“As hot as it is, we’ll be lucky if it does rain.”

“Okay.”

She walked Lori to the door. “Lori? Thanks.”

Lori touched her cheek gently. “Anytime. If you need to talk I’m just across the street, keeping an eye on you with a shotgun.”

“What?” Beth said, alarmed.

“Didn’t they tell you? I’m a sniper. I check in on you and if someone ever tries to come in and hurt you I’ll be there to kill ‘em dead.”

It would have sounded funny if Beth didn’t know Lori was dead serious. She winked and left, and Beth shut the door behind her.

“What a fucking weird life I’ve got now…”

.

Daryl massaged five people during his seven hour shift. Some were old veterans who requested him because he was good with their war wounds. A few were golfers who wanted to relax after a morning out on the green. One was a very randy old lady who’d tried to bribe him into sex by offering him a thousand dollars in cash but he’d refused. That wasn’t an unusual occurrence in his line of work, from either men or women, but he never agreed. He always kept his work as a masseur on the level and strictly professional.

The moments he spent between working to relax the muscles of the wealthy country club members he spent thinking about Beth. The girl had managed to disrupt his whole life without even meaning to.

For ten years Daryl had managed to lead a life of hard work, most of it honest, that had lifted him out of the abject poverty he’d grown up in with his brother Merle. He planned to retire at forty-five. He was well on track to reaching the nest egg figure he wanted. All he had to do was keep it going another five and a half years. Work and invest. That was all he’d had for the past decade and he’d convinced himself it was enough.

Until her.

He remembered the few so-called girlfriends he’d had over the past ten years. There’d been three. None of them had made him feel for them what Beth did. None of them had made doing his job with his mistresses difficult, as Beth did. He could barely recall the last time he’d fucked for love. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever truly fallen for a woman. He’d not been able to love himself so he’d never tried to love anyone else.

It was almost impossible for him to recall what sex with emotion was like. When was the last time he’d lost control? When was the last time a moan had escaped him that wasn’t purely theater? When was the last time he’d made love to someone?

Well over fifteen years, Daryl thought.

There had been a young woman, when he was twenty-four years old, that he’d genuinely liked, and had come close to opening his heart to. Then she’d dumped him and he’d sworn he’d never let himself feel the kind of hurt he’d felt when she’d walked away.

That was just before his first experience fucking for profit. He’d thought the idea was genius. He got to enjoy sex with, usually, attractive women, and in exchange he was paid insane amounts of money. He’d learned everything he could about the female anatomy and how to please a woman. He’d learned how to make fantasies come true. He’d become a master at his profession, which was the oldest in the world.

He was good at what he did. It earned him money, it kept him physically satisfied, and he had no emotional hang-ups to worry about. So why was Bethany Sutton on his mind so much? Why was he constantly thinking of her?

Now Daryl was on his way home. First he had to stop at the pharmacy for condoms since he was running low. He was perusing for his usual brand when he saw Bethany in the same aisle, further down, looking over pain killers. Seeing her there, unexpectedly, made his heart jump in his chest. It made him happy. She made him happy.

“Bethany.”

She looked up at him. He expected to see her usual bright smile but she looked solemn.

“You okay? You haven’t had any trouble from that man, have you?” he asked in concern.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday. I wanted to kiss you.”

An awkward silence followed. He’d wanted to kiss her too. He’d wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone before.

“I’m glad we didn’t,” she said.

“What?” he asked, taken aback by what an unpleasant surprise her words were.

“I’m glad we didn’t kiss. I let myself forget what you are,” she said, trying to elaborate.

“What I am?” he said, starting to feel numb, but with an undercurrent of heat that was going to turn into anger.

“You know…you’re a…” she looked around, as though she was about to say something vulgar and didn’t want to be overheard. In fact, that’s exactly what she was going to do. “You’re a whore. It’s not like it would have meant anything to you. It’s not like I would mean anything to you.”

“I’m a whore so I can’t feel anything?”

“I don’t…I guess…Of course you feel, just not for me.”

“God, I thought you were different.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking genuinely confused.

“People find out what I do for a living and they assume I’m a piece of shit robot who doesn’t have feelings or needs. I thought you were different. I thought you saw a person instead of just a gigolo.”

“I do see you as a person, Daryl! Let’s face it, though, I’d just be another notch on your headboard. It’s not like you’d give up what you do to be with me, and I think too much of myself to share you with a bunch of women so you can make money off them.”

“Well, ain’t you a peach?” he questioned angrily. “As though I’d actually want to fuck you. You’re just a kid. I just wanted to be friends, nothing more.”

She looked hurt and surprised now, and Daryl felt a small victory, even though it was petty and cruel.

“That’s what I want is friendship,” she said.

“Yeah, after you made it clear I’m not good enough for you.”

“I didn’t say you’re not good enough, Daryl,” Beth snapped, no longer trying to keep her voice down. “I just said I--”

“Yeah, I heard what you said. You’re right. I have no intentions of changing my way of life for somebody I barely know. Get over yourself, Darlin’, you’re just not that precious.”

He walked off, needing to get away from her before tears could sting at his eyes. He’d never misjudged someone so completely in his life. He’d thought Bethany Sutton was different. He’d thought she’d looked past his livelihood to see there was a person with a heart. All she saw was a whore.

As soon as the cashier scanned the condoms Daryl slapped a fifty on the counter and said, “Keep the change.”

He hurried out to his bike, started it up, and sped off as quickly as he could. He had to get home and get ready. He had work to do. Work he damn sure wasn’t going to have a problem doing tonight.

.

The sex was angry, just like Ophelia liked it. He’d hiked up her shameful excuse for a slutty nun’s habit and kept his cassock on while he rammed into her, forcing her face first into the pillows. She screamed each time he thrust into her. He knew he was hurting her because she was allergic to latex condoms and each thrust must have been agony--which is exactly what she wanted.

“You’re hurting me,” she sobbed.

So he fucked her harder until she came around him.

“Yes…yes…yes…” she moaned.

Daryl wasn’t done. He kept thinking about Bethany and it was hard for him to come. He flipped Ophelia over, threw her legs over his shoulders, and began ramming into her again.

“You’re so angry,” she huffed, as he continued thrusting. She had a smirk on her face. “Fight with your little lover across the hall?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, slut,” he said, and began pounding even harder. “Fucking bitch…”

“Hit me,” she said, leaning up and dragging her nails down his chest almost hard enough to draw blood. “Strike me, you fucking whore.”

He did as ordered, striking her across the face, hard enough to knock her back, and then he slapped at her breasts and pinched her nipples with a roughness most women couldn’t tolerate. The physical and verbal abuse excited Ophelia. She came again, her juices splashing over his thighs and finally he found release, coming hard into the condom.

He collapsed beside her and discarded the condom. He looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom, where a mirror hung, and he couldn’t stand to look at himself. He’d long ago made peace with who he was, and what he did, but tonight, with Bethany’s words ringing in his head, he felt self-loathing on a level he hadn’t known in years.

“What’s the matter?” Ophelia said.

“Nothing. Personal problems.”

“You can tell me.”

“I’m here to please you, not burden you with my bullshit,” he said, and lit up a cigarette. He passed her one and they smoked together.

“Maybe I want to hear. I’m not all that bad, Daryl. I may even be able to help.”

“You can’t, so drop it.”

She shrugged. “Fine. I know it has something to do with that little girl across the hall.”

He gripped Ophelia’s face hard. Harder than even she liked it. “Don’t talk about her to me. Understand?”

She nodded and he released her. Ophelia rubbed at her jaw.

“You’ve never been mean to me before. I mean, outside of sex, where I like it mean. It hurts my feelings.”

You’ve got feelings? Daryl thought, and he regarded her in the mirror.

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t sound sorry and she knew he wasn’t. “Don’t mention Bethany again and I’ll stay sweet as pie.”

She wondered what the girl had done to him but wasn’t about to bring it up.

“Are you going to watch the sunset like you normally do?” she asked.

“Yeah, actually, I am,” he said. He’d be damned if he changed his routine over Bethany Sutton. He looked at Ophelia. “Don’t come up.”

.

Two weeks passed after Beth’s argument with Daryl. There were no more lunches. There were no more sunsets. The one time she’d gone up to the roof, the day before, to see if he was there, he wasn’t. She was too much of a coward to knock on his door. She’d written a dozen letters of apology but didn’t have the courage to tape one to his door. She’d seen him a few times in the hall. Each time he’d pretended she wasn’t there.

Now Beth sat in the bathtub with the window open beside her. She looked outside, into the sky above. Clouds had rolled in. They often did but rarely brought rain. Tonight would be different, she was sure of it. The air had cooled and had that special smell that said rain was coming.

Jewel’s soulful voice spilled from the speakers of a radio she’d found in the linen closet. She sang of a man who belonged to her. Beth thought of Daryl, as she often did when she was sitting still. He may not have been meant for her but she felt he could have been a good friend. She’d messed that up.

All she’d wanted to do was tell him that she didn’t want another almost-kiss to happen. She’d ended up calling him a whore and hurting his feelings. She’d made him feel as though he was less than a man, at least in her eyes, and that wasn’t true.

Or was it?

How many times had she thought ‘he’s just a whore’? Had she judged him? Yes. Had that been fair? No.

Beth could feel the Aleve she’d taken not only ease the pain in her shoulders and arms from the work she’d been doing trying to complete the flowerbeds, but the throbbing headache that had set in from being in the heat too long that day. She climbed from the tub and dried off before putting on a pair of black leggings and a gray tee-shirt and some comfortable sandals. She was going to talk to Daryl today. If he didn’t go up to the roof then she decided she was going to knock on his door.

He was there when she came up. He kept his back to her even though he’d heard the door open. He made no effort to look at her when she stopped beside him.

“I just want to watch the sunset,” he said. “Not argue.”

“I didn’t come to fight. I came to apologize.”

“I guess I’m supposed to just get over it, right? I’m just a whore after all. My hypothetical feelings don’t matter,” he said bitterly.

She could feel the pain in his voice. She touched his arm and he started to move away but she gripped his hand.

“I was wrong. I’m just asking for a chance to explain myself.”

He held still, refusing to look at her, but not trying to push her away, either.

“I don’t think your job completely defines you. I’m not better than you. I know you have feelings, Daryl. I think you probably feel things more deeply than most people. I judged you and I said cruel, hurtful things that I didn’t mean to say. Everything came out wrong that day and I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me but I want you to know I’m really sorry.”

He leaned against the edge of the courtyard. “What do you mean everything came out wrong?”

“My head is telling me not to feel anything but friendship for you. My heart is telling me to fall head-over-heels in love with you. I can’t fall for, and be with, a man who takes other women to his bed. Not that you want me. You made it clear you don’t. You see me as a kid. Here I am, screwing it up again. I’m trying to say I--”

She realized he’d started looking at her. His expression was softer than she thought it would be.

“You hurt me,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t know it but that’s quite an accomplishment. I haven’t cared about someone enough to be hurt by them in a very long time. You’re right. You deserve a man who will be yours and only yours. You need someone your own age, too. I just want you to know, Bethany, that you wouldn’t have been just another notch on my headboard.”

“Please, forgive me someday?”

“I forgive you now,” he said.

Beth threw herself into his arms. He caught her and squeezed her tightly against him. After a few moments she stepped back and took his hand.

“Friends again?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We’ll have a really good friendship without any sexual tension between us.”

“Bethany.”

Beth looked away from Daryl when Michonne came onto the courtyard. She had a solemn expression on her face that worried Beth at once.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s your father,” Michonne said sadly. “He’s been shot.”

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