Captive of Love

Sitting and waiting, I take in my surroundings. Baseball memorabilia and accolades, from his time on the police force, hung on his dully painted tan-colored walls. The desk is cluttered with stacks of various documents, alongside a mug of coffee; my sight lowers to view the engraving on the nameplate. Det. Darion Harris, I internally mused. A royal pain in my ass. When a snicker escaped my lips, finally garnering Det. Harris's attention, I hurried to hush my outburst. Since my arrival, he had been so entranced by the notes in his hand. No doubt, to guarantee, he wouldn't forget to ask every intrusive question he could muster. Looking up, with furrowed brows, he asks, "Do you find something amusing, Mrs. Gallo?" His stare is unwavering as he tries to discern my disposition. With a tilt of my head, I returned his icy gaze. Det. Harris, with his mahogany skin, naturally kissed by the glow of the sun, would've been handsome if not for the permanent scowl on his face. "Not at all, Det. Harris. Can we get on with whatever questions you have regarding my husband? I have arrangements to make." "Indeed, my condolences for your loss." I smirk. Det. Harris has been a thorn in my husband, Karlus, side for years. Nothing gives him more joy than knowing my husband lies dead on a slap of cold steel in the morgue. Yet, if Karlus has taught me anything, it is to never be surly before your enemies. Remain chill and even tempted, because your opponent will gain the upper hand when you give in to your anxieties. After failing to take his bait, he begins. "Please state your name, for the record." "I thought our conversation would be off the record. I hope you remember I'm not under investigation here. I would hate for lawyers to get involved in our little chit-chat." "Yes, of course. It is just protocol or an old habit. You have my word nothing you say will be used against you." I stared at him intently, before deciding whether or not to answer. "I'm Amara Gallo. Wife to the late Karlus Gallo." "How long have you been married?" I scoff. He knows damn well how long, but I answer anyway. "Five months." "When did you first meet Mr. Gallo?" I leaned back against the back of my chair. Surely, we aren't going that far back. Yet, the expression set upon Det. Harris's face was impassive. I sigh, "This is going to make for a dreadfully long story." A sneer crept across his face, "No worries, Mrs. Gallo. I cleared my schedule just to be here with you." I leaned forward, my eyes level with his, to say, "Lucky me." He stares for a beat of a moment before he nods, and says, "Just talk to me. Fill in the missing spaces in the story." I settled in my chair, preparing for a long narration. A slight hesitation slinks into my soul. Recalling the early days of my courtship with Karlus isn't pleasant. It only serves to remind me of the hatred I once had for him and the weak woman I used to be. Yet, there's no need to hide the truth from Det. Harris. He has seen and heard far uglier tales than my story. If it will finally satisfy his morbid obsession and get his watchful gaze off me, then so be it. Three Years Ago... I met Karlus Gallo on a trip to Venice. I had just turned Twenty-five and was soulfully wounded. It was supposed to be my honeymoon trip but ended as a solo adventure. Jaxon, my ex-fiancé, had abruptly called off our wedding. We had dated since freshmen year in college. After graduation, we moved in together, got jobs working for an accounting firm, and prepared for a lifetime together. It was the natural progression in our relationship. Everyone expected it, which was what drove Jaxon to end our relationship. He told me he felt trapped. He wasn't sure if he ever genuinely ever loved me, or just chose me because I was suitable wifey material. Whatever the hell that meant, I didn't know, but I was utterly destroyed. Jaxon wanted to live his life and date and said the mere thought of being tied down to one woman for the rest of his life was crippling. I suppose I should’ve respected the fact he had the balls to tell me the unsavory news, but I didn’t. I exploded with anger, throwing anything nearby to hurl at his head. How did my little outburst end, you may ask? Well, our neighbors called the police, and after a lengthy conversation with the officers regarding our small domestic dispute. It was determined that I should leave. So, after packing my belongings, I moved into a hotel. Alone in my rented room, I felt like a failure. I began to question the life decisions that had led to my current predicament. My life had always fallen into place, one incident propelling me to the next. It was then I understood why he left. I cared for him, but I didn't love him. There was never a need for him but rather a comfortability that you share with a close friend. Yet, I suppose he also served to fill the hole in my heart that longed for family. My father passed away while I was in high school, from heart failure. I then lost my mother during my sophomore year in college, due to complications with diabetes. Being an only child without Jaxon, I was truly alone in the world. Fear became my companion and I hated it. Even without Jaxon’s support, I decided I couldn’t just lie down and die. I opted to move forward with my plans to go to Venice, even if I had to go alone. Jaxon had mostly paid for the trip with his bonuses from work and even sprung for first class. He at least had the decency to allow me to keep the ticket. As I made my way to the plush and spacious seat, I thought I would get tipsy and mellow out to some music during the long flight. I plopped down onto my seat. I needed time away from everyone I knew, especially my co-workers. I couldn't take everyone's eyes on me, watching for signs of me cracking. I already felt pathetic enough as it was. I didn't need anyone else's pity to compound on top of my self-loathing. I sat next to the window, painfully aware of the empty seat beside me. Tears threatened to spill. I could sense the telltale signs of the watering of the eyes and restriction of my throat. No, not here, I reprimanded myself. I had been strong until then, only crying in the solitude of my hotel room at night. Yet, there I was, about to lose it. My purse occupied the empty seat that should have been where Jaxon sat. I began to rummage through it for tissues, sniffing back the assault of tears and the mucus forming in the back of my throat. Not only was I going to cry, but it was going to be an ugly cry. I was so entranced with my mission of locating the Kleenexes that I failed to see the eyes of a stranger gazing upon me. "Are you alright?" Questioned a smooth and vibrant accented voice. It sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up to see, hands down, the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on staring at me. I lost my breath, and any tears that were going to fall halted in place. I stared at him dumbfounded before my brain finally shifted into gear. "Ah, yes!" I answered with more enthusiasm than I intended. I inhaled and released a breath before adding, "I have terrible allergies. Maybe it is the change in altitude or my nerves. I don't like flying." In truth, it wasn't the flight that had me nervous but his presence. My senseless ramblings made me want to slap myself for acting like an unskilled teen. It was then I located the package of Kleenexes and held it up for him to view. He c****d an eyebrow as a smile played across his beautifully formed lips. His jet-black hair was slicked back and slightly curled at the nape of his neck. His olive complexion complimented his rugged features. His large frame nearly overwhelmed the first-class recliner where he sat, and the suit he wore looked expensive and screamed sophistication. Nevertheless, his dark-brown bedroom eyes were the most captivating of all his features. Though his steadfast gaze was unnerving. I found myself wanting them on me. I doubted he believed my lie. Something in the way he considered me told me so, but if he was aware of any deception on my part, he chose not to say it. An internal quiver stirred inside of me, as the budding inklings of desire began to make me wonder about the man sitting across from me. Self-pity had robbed me of my carnal needs. Yet his alluring stare told me he was more than capable of fulfilling them. With the most obscene thoughts taking hold of me, I failed to comprehend his next choice of words. "Business, or pleasure?"