021: Pent-Up Frustration

Dexter

I watch Red leave the grocery store in mild disbelief.

I don’t understand that woman at all. I’ve only just met her but she seems to me like a very complicated person. The problem is that I can’t seem to stay away from her and I’m starting to grow angry at my own stupidity.

Telling her about the job wasn’t supposed to happen the way it did. I needed time to assess her and make sure that she’d be the perfect candidate for the job. I don’t know if I can trust her. I know she’s new but that doesn’t guarantee that she’s not loyal to Ambrose.

It was a stupid move, and the worst part is that I only did it because I wanted an excuse to push her off me yesterday. I knew what was coming and my fear was that I wouldn’t be able to resist her. So, I said the words out loud. I gave her the offer.

I don’t even know if she’ll see this through. I’m not sure if I trust this at all. Hell, I didn’t even look her up. I don’t know what her real name is or where she’s from. It’s frankly ridiculous.

And I’ve been seeing her face. Last night, I dream about her. She was in my dream, dancing and dancing. I wanted to touch her so much that I could taste it. She came closer to me, the mask covering her face. In a flash, she was naked, and I gazed upon her body with lust. I raised my hands and slid them down her body. Her skin was soft and fragrant. Her breasts were right in front of me, and I covered one of her pink nubs with my lips, sucking her breast into my mouth.

She moaned and I woke up, drenched in sweat and hard as a rock. Ellen was lying beside me but I couldn’t use her like that. So, I went into the bathroom and masturbated, the image of me sucking her tit floating in my mind.

I run my fingers through my hair. She’s gone and I can be at peace for a bit, but the truth is that even though I don’t understand her, I find her intriguing. She’s not even afraid of me. The way she talked to me just now…no, I can’t think about it. I’m still in public.

I leave the grocery store and get inside my car, but only after I look around for her. She’s truly gone, probably bound for the strip club, which is where she lives apparently. Why would Ambrose have her living there? I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this and have to look into it. The problem is that I don’t have men to spare. I’d have to do it on my own.

And doing it on my own means getting more acquainted with her.

I sit in the car for a bit with my hands on the steering wheel. My heart is beating fast. Her face floats in and out of my mind. It’s infuriating. I start the car, bound for home. I’ve seen too much of her.

Goddess, it’s not been that long since I first saw her. Why do I feel this way about her?

Ellen is in the living room when I reach out home. She looks at me with a smile and although I try, I can’t seem to smile back. She stands up and walks toward me. She places a warm kiss on my lips and pulls me close. “How was work, baby?”

I gulp. This is the last thing she should be asking me about. “Just okay.”

“Yeah?” she asks as she pulls away and peers into my face. “Want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “Better not.”

“Is my father overworking you?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I tell her. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Ellen watches my face. I hate how she can always tell what’s wrong with me. She knows me like the back of her hand. Still, I can’t give her anything because I can’t talk to her about Red. It’s out of the question.

“Are you hungry then?”

I rub my eyes. “Sure.”

I didn’t have breakfast when I left in the morning; just a cup of coffee. I sit down and she asks our cook to make me the usual. She then stands behind me and starts massaging my shoulders. It’s times like these when I ask myself whether I’m genuinely such a bad person, especially where Ellen is concerned.

I didn’t ask for a massage. I want to be left alone for a bit.

“How does that feel?” she asks me.

“Great. Thanks.”

She keeps on massaging me. I hold back the sigh that threatens to leave my lips. She’s always hovering. The reason why I stay out so late is because of her; she doesn’t leave me alone. I know a lot of my colleagues who complain about their mates not caring about them, but would they have preferred this?

Ellen only stops when the food arrives. She then sits down next to me and props her chin on her open palm. She watches me eat. I’m used to this right now, so I just polish my plate and then push it away.

“Jane, take it away,” Ellen tells our maid. “Thank you.”

We sit facing each other. She searches my eyes and then smiles. “What is it?”

Guilt rams into me, but I keep the negative feeling at bay by avoiding it. “Nothing.”

“My sister’s coming to dinner later,” she tells me. “I hope you don’t mind. Unless, of course, you have plans for tonight.”

“Why would I mind?” I ask. “You can bring whoever you want inside this house. I’ve never told you you couldn’t.”

“I only asked to be polite, that’s all.”

“Ellen,” I say, “we’ve been together for seven years. Do you think maybe you can stop asking me for permission for everything?”

Her defensive side kicks in. I know how this is going to end. We’ve had countless arguments about this and she doesn’t seem to understand where I’m coming from. She says I’m delusional. Am I? “I just think we should communicate. If I don’t tell you she’s coming and she does, you might find it invasive.”

“Invasive?” I echo. “That doesn’t make any sense. She’s your sister, and has your exact face, to be precise. If anything, I wouldn’t tell the difference between the two of you.”

Ellen searches my eyes desperately. “What’s wrong, Dex? What’s happening to us?”

“The same thing that happened every time we try to have an argument that’s more complex than the day-to-day garbage we spew out of our mouths every single day.”

I stand up after this. I leave her alone in the dining room and head on upstairs. I’ll wash my hands and then I’m going out again. I can’t take it when things are bad between me and her.

I’m so deep in my thoughts that I don’t hear her come up behind me. When I turn around, her arms are folded and she’s leaning against the door frame. “Is it another woman?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. I don’t say a word to her. I dry my hands and simply walk past her. I hear her scoff. “Dex, are you serious?”

I leave the room. She comes up behind me, storming down the stairs. Her anger surrounds me like a gray cloud. “I’m sick and tired of you treating me like this!” she exclaims. I’m walking way ahead of her and so as a result, I’m not looking at her. “I do everything for you!”

“I wish you’d do a little less,” I comment.

“What?”

I stop and whirl around to face her. “You suffocate me, Ellen. All the time. I can’t have a moment’s peace when I’m around you. Back there, I didn’t want a massage, and you didn’t even bother asking me if I wanted one. You just assumed I did. This is exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Everyone wants a massage after a long day of work!” she exclaims. “What’s wrong with a massage?”

I can’t do this.

I back away from her and get in the car. She calls my name but I ignore it. I start the car and drive away from my home. I slam my fists against the steering wheel. I haven’t felt this frustrated in a while. She’s impossible to talk to and refuses to understand that I’m not a man who wants that much affection. Why can’t she get that?

As I drive to the main building of our office, my thoughts wander. I find myself thinking about Red even though I don’t want to.

Fuck. What’s happening to me?