Casco Bay

The fiery sunlight brightened the sky as much as it enhanced the ocean’s blue depth. A light breeze flew throughout the bay and kept occasional clouds distant. Sweat beaded on her naked body; twinkling like heavenly stars while lying next to a refreshing extended pool. Her body was firm, tone, with a perfect shade of bronze. Reclined unclenched with her silky black hair in a bun; she revealed the length of her long elegant neck. Shamelessly she exposed her exquisite, vulnerable form on her own private island off Casco Bay –a series of islands that separate for miles and miles on Portland, Maine’s coast.

She lifted herself and grabbed a large Pioneer Linens beach towel. The texture exceeded comfortably soft, she patted herself and removed oil and moisture. Afterwards she covered herself, then reached for a large bell and rang three times. A tall handsome man dressed conservatively in khaki pants and a professionally pressed business shirt; rushed out to her aid. She held the towel close to her body, looking up at his piercing hazel blue eyes with a flirty smile.

“Would you mind if I go for a swim? Without the shackle around my ankle? It’s so uncomfortable, and I haven’t given you one problem this week. I’ll even let you watch me swim naked.” She requested, batting her long, dark eye lashes. Rested on her smooth, beautiful Italian profile.

“I don’t like you manipulating me with those viscous eyes Sybil. Besides I have a few more clients to call and can’t sit around watching you. It’s not even a pool day, I think I’m being generous. Don’t you think?

“Are you saying you don’t like this? You don’t want me?”

“You know I do. I dream about what we had. I want nothing more than to hold you, kiss you, and caress every inch of you. But that’s not what this is about; like I’ve told you over and over, it’s about love. I can’t touch you or think of you like that --until-- I know with every fiber of my being that you love me again.”

“What makes you think I ever stopped, huh?”

“Stop patronizing me.”

“Well…If you don’t believe me, what’s it going to take? I can’t convince --LOVE-- for you. That’s something you need to find in yourself first. You’re wasting our time Chase.”

“After what I did to you, your sister, your parents, I’m not sure you’ll ever love me the way you used to. I’m trying to prove I’ve changed --once you’re convinced-- I will feel you deep in my heart and you will feel me deep in yours.

“So, you want to prove you are better by taking me prisoner? You’re insane--I’ll do you a favor--Let me go and I swear on my soul to never reveal it was you. I’ll tell em it was some crazy faceless stalker. I still care about you, I don’t want anything bad for you. That’s a promise, no games.”

“I love you and I know you have love buried in resentment somewhere. When I’m convinced you’ve lost that feeling in some emotional abyss, I’ll accept my responsibilities. That’s a promise. No favors needed.”

“I wish I could understand you. You need help-- a lot-- from a good therapist. I feel horrible about what you went through growing up, but this isn’t the answer. My family is worried sick. You’re so fucking selfish! Stubborn, CRAZY!”

“I’m sorry, I want today to be special. I’ll take off the shackle and let you swim free for a bit. I’ll call my secretary and reschedule my calls. I don’t think these conversations help us move forward. Let’s enjoy the day. I’ll make you nice meal later, anything. Okay?”

Sybil rolled her eyes without responding. After a few moments of roaming in thought she stood from a teak wood lounge chair, looked deeply into his eyes, seductively with a smirk. He knew what was to come. He quickly turned his back. She dropped her towel exposing full, supple breasts, and a firm stomach. He closed his eyes pushing her image away.

She always walked with perfect posture; highlighting her chest and symmetrical ass. He always loved her posture. It was one of her greatest, sexiest features, causing a chain reaction of allurement. Any straight man could never—NOT-- watch such a beautiful, praxeological display; but her abductor must have a wire shorting out. He hands her the robe, keeping his eyes in the opposite direction.

“Let me go call Gina. Are you just wading or doing your laps?

“My usual mile. Can you get my swim cap, goggles and a one piece?”

“Great, I better grab a book. Thank god it’s a slow day. I’ll be back in a few.”

“And a cold bottle of water. Chop, chop!”

Hustling through a beautifully landscaped slate pool deck, he heads up a set of stairs to his office. Pressing a pattern of numbers, he entered a beautifully distressed, wood crafted workplace. Punching another series of numbers to a safe he pulled out a cell phone to contact his assistant.

“Hey Gina, can you do me a favor? Move my calls and prepare some appointments for next week. Whoever needs a face to face. See you soon.”

The large lavish cabin overlooked a beautiful expansive body of water with high panoramic bay windows. He walked down the cellar. A long stone wall and stone staircase led to a wine display locked behind glass. A keypad is displayed beside the artistic display of fine wines. Pressing one code opened the glass to the wine cellar. Another code revealed a larger room; more extravagant than a small New York, Park Avenue flat without a view. He grabbed the requested items and a book he bought her the week prior. He often bought her flowers (white lilies or tulips were her favorite), books, and other gifts when he returned from the city. He bought much more expensive items when they had arguments, like many couples. The difference is that they are no longer engaged or even a couple. Their relationship read like an ancient Greek mythological romance story.

“Here you go, I grabbed that book I bought you if you don’t mind?”

“You forgot something…”

“Oh yeah.” He reached down and unlocked her ankle bracelet. When he is finished she purposely dropped her robe. Giving him a good look. He turned in frustration.

“You’re not being nice. Put on the suit. If you keep this up I’m not going to be so generous next time.”

“Generous? You’re hilarious. Tell me--when was the last time you got laid Romeo?” She asked, putting on her suit, playing with her swim cap and goggles.

“When we made love.” He looked at her with caring eyes as if she should know the answer.

“You are full of it now… Almost a year stud? I think you screw the girls in your office, you’re feeding me crap. Not that I give a shit… Maybe I’m not playing with you. Maybe I’m horny and need a big hard cock. God… After six months, your dick will do just fine. Wanna make me happy? How bout a violent fuck after dinner, bend me over that kitchen counter. After, I’ll wipe my wet pussy off on your dorky ass khakis. And you can stop buying me flowers! How’s that for playing you?”

“You are not acting right, a little scary. I think you know me. I hate lying. It’s for weak minded cowards. I haven’t had sex in almost a year. After a while it gets easy to resist, but when I commit to something you know how I get. You once labeled me OCD. Maybe… Or maybe that’s what quitters say about those who achieve their goals with tenacity! I made a promise at our engagement party. My intention is to honor you, to show you what true love is.

“Blah, blah, blah. I’d be home if you just got laid Chase.”

Before leaping into the pool for her laps, she turned back: “All that TENACITY didn’t stop you from drinking like a fish, assaulting my sister, embarrassing my family, and almost choking me to death.”

While she swam lap after lap, he sat. He held the book he planned reading; bowing his head in tears from her last comment. She’s right, so right he felt like a colossal hypocrite. He achieved so much regardless of his past. From homelessness to big pay checks and generous bonuses’ on Wall Street. That was a big achievement, and a lot of celebrating with coworkers. Sybil tried numerous times to get him help. Convincing him to see counselors. Many sessions ended with the two arguing. It didn’t make economic sense. Paying a therapist to listen to them argue. The saddest part, is the events she described are not events he recalled; because he did, he drank too much, that was absolute. With or without the pun.

Lifting his mind, he observed pure grace. Skimming atop the water, stretching her arms with each kick, she glided. He remembered she swam in high school, but never knew so well. Her laps seemed endless. Time passed, he wondered if she ever planned to stop.

Patiently watching her artistic form, he lost himself in thought. Thoughts about how they met. Thoughts about all the wonderful trips they took together. Thoughts about their current situation. Then he questioned-- Is he obsessed? Can love and obsession coexist?

She finished her final lap and slowly ascended the pool steps; removing her goggles and swim cap, shaking her hair to the side. Her hips moved hypnotically with each step, Chase was entranced.

She was spoiled by her tall, handsome, crazy lunatic of a prince patting her back with a towel. He dried her with such care, she almost liked it. She almost wanted to be a little more pleasant. But she couldn’t encourage him. She needed to find a way off that fucking island.