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Clarisse had discovered a new feeling evolving in her since she kissed Wichita. It sent an electric surge charging through her body, just as when her lips brushed against Wichita’s. How could she feel that way about another woman, she hadn’t felt anything till now? The world was surrounded by plenty of women but she never felt that way yet. Maybe that’s what is making me feel this way. The novelty, she thought. A few thoughts kept nagging her. How did it happen? Why did it make her feel so lively? Can she be with Wichita, similar to being with Raymond? Clarisse’s insomniac eyes beheld the starry sky floating above the Empire state building. “The city really never sleeps...” she muttered under her breath. She had somehow managed to encircle herself with few of the most powerful and prosperous people of the New York city romantically, and hemmed herself in within the circumference. Life before was a bit harsh but now it has become excruciating for her. The only thing she is clung to is her seven years old son Sam, if it wasn’t for him there were many times, she’d tried to put a noose around her neck. Each night flew by her while the thoughts kept her niggling from the inside, and the days they gusted like a wave of breeze taking her along with it in an absolute oblivion. She gazed beside her. Raymond was snoring as he dove deep into the ocean of dreams. Clarisse let out a sigh of exasperation and let her heavy lids fall. “C’mon baby wake up,” Ray whispered gently in Clarisse’s ears. She felt the warm stir of his breath tingling around her earlobe, the slight beam of the morning felt warm around her face. She smiled tenderly albeit she was vexed by her reluctance to face the day. “It is Sunday.” She moaned softly; her eyes still closed. “Now, if you are to spend the entire day in bed it wouldn’t be just to me, would it?” Ray chuckled. “Why don’t we spend the entire day in the bed, huh?” Clarisse peeked from her half-closed eyes and pulled Ray – who was resting on his side with his head perched against his hand while his elbow propped on the pillow – back in the bed. Raymond had been utterly nice to Clarisse, and she had an unfathomable feeling gnawing inside of her that she could never make it up to him for whatever he’d done for her. Well at the least could she return the love he had for her? Well, no. Clarisse couldn’t. A year had passed and she couldn’t make a choice. She’d put herself in an abundance of guilt for hiding things from him. At those times when Ray wanted to have a conversation, she’d pull him or shove him in the bed. She knew exactly how to stop men from talking. But she knew deep within herself she cannot always get away with it there will be a time she has to justify things. Raymond began to kiss her softly finding his way from her neck to her collar bone. Clarisse still submerged in the voice coming from the back of her head. She'd had a hard time moving on from her ex-boyfriend Eric, and now that he is in the town she is trapped in the maze of a great dilemma. She'd promised to see him. She had promised to see Wichita. And she’s assured Raymond that she’ll make it up to him this Sunday. It is SUNDAY! Raymond intertwined her fingers in his while she laid beneath him moaning, trying to hide her misery pretending to be immensely pleased by the things he is doing. This was all she had to offer she’s never been able to achieve the emotional goals in this relationship. The passion was already faded away without any trails to trace back but that one kiss with Wichita kindled so many candles in her that none of the men she had been with could do. Clarisse and Raymond, both panting heavily, sucking in air. Their bodies covered up in sweat gleaming like statues displayed at the wax museum. She swathed the sheet around her bare body and rose, Raymond grabbed her hand and said, “somebody wanted to spend the day in bed.” Clarisse leaned over him and whispered, “somebody has to take care of a child…” she giggled and donned her bathrobe. “Are you referring to me?” He asked, “then the care is not taken well…” he laughed at the exasperating look that Clarisse shot. “I have to take Sam out…,” Clarisse fumbled with the curly strands of hair, “…I have to rush. You could join if you want?” she asked over her shoulder as she walked into the bathroom. “I would love to…,” Raymond replied, “… but I guess I would have to make some plans with Molly.” He said glumly. “All right then,” she resigned, “you still going to give us a ride, right?” she peeked her head out of the half-opened bathroom door. “Of course.” He assured. Clarisse sighed and let out “thank God.” Relived, she wouldn’t have to go across all of the Manhattan switching taxis and subway or any of the buses. She was surprised at how her life has changed, a year and a half ago she was habitual to take the buses and could go all around the city. Maybe I am used to the comforts now, she thought. Maybe that’s why I am afraid to let go of Raymond, the train of her thoughts began to move after a halt. It had always been this way; it begins slowly and gradually speeds up making her shudder. The shower kept on running pouring drops on her while she froze. The thin clouds of mist overwhelmed her, the clouds of doubts. The clouds of self-loathing. She began to think about things that she has never ever – even slightly – considered worthy of thinking. Do I really love Raymond, or is it the comfort that he provides? The security that he brings or is it because my fear of being alone in a strange city has made me keep him? She contemplated all the possibilities of dilemmas that could pop up in those clouds around her. Could she really afford to stay in a hotel at uptown Marble hill? Leaving her son with the babysitter, she felt so free for it, to have a little time off from being a mother. It’s not as easy as it seems, she deserved a little time off. She deserves to have fun. With the warm water dripping down her hair she let a few tears escape and stream along with it down her cheeks. “Clarisse…,” Raymond’s voice dragged her back to awareness, “Wichita just texted you.” She winced at that name, fear seemed to have replaced the water droplets and crawled on her skin. “W – who?” she asked, “well yes I forgot to tell you she is giving me an internship at one of her hotels.” She was amazed at how simply she lied. “Well…,” Raymond spoke sheepishly, “…she texted you to meet at her penthouse.” Clarisse swallowed through the stinging sensation prickling through her skin. Think of something convincing, she thought. At this moment the mist has seemed to disappear, no clouds of thoughts. She moved her lips but no words she could think of. “W – well…, uh…” she still working on phrasing a sane sentence, “…she wants to host a party I guess… I guess.” Clarisse squinted through the half-open door, scrutinizing his face hoping he’d buy it. “On a Sunday night?” He asked dubiously. “Actually, I called her the other day…,” she paused, “…I ran into her the other day and she remembered I showed her some of the catalogue of my dishes!” She waited briefly for Raymond to respond. Raymond simply had a vacant look as if he’d drifted away to a memory decades old. She continued, “She wanted me to cater some of my dishes for her party, I guess.” Her tone faltered. “I just didn’t realise that would be today. You know how vague she is.” She shivered at her lie. Raymond nodded perfunctorily and simply mumbled a plain “oh.” How long am I going to keep this hidden? As long as it procrastinates – although it is a matter of utter significance – but she is not ready to lose anything or anyone. Which is inevitable, eventually it is going to come out. ‘Face it, Clarisse!’ a voice from within screamed. She dabbed her skin with the towel with reluctant haste. She wants to get out from here as soon as she could and at the contrary want to stay in the bathroom unwilling to meet eyes with Raymond. Clarisse dashed out of the bathroom in her violet silk bathrobe, it was so far better than her old ragged cotton at home. It felt warm and soft and tender against her skin comforting her to the soul. She faced her reflection drying her dense curly hair against the blow dryer. Her dusky complexion was slightly pallid even after a bath. She traced a finger around her dark circles feeling the trails of the tears she’d shed on so many countless nights. She gazed in her eyes. Her distant stranger’s coffee-brown eyes with a tint of coal-black around the pupil. Her eyes stared back from the mirror trying to fathom the inexplicable urge she had lurking inside her. The doorbell rang diverting Clarisse from the image of her introspect, the person she tying to impost. She didn’t dare to prolong her observation. The bell rang again someone was impatient. Raymond plunged down the bed muttering a curse and darted toward the door. “Might be just the room service….” Clarisse prompted. Raymond answered the door. And a woman barged in unbidden. “Molly...!” Raymond’s voice reverberated in the hallway resonating an unsaid terror. Horror crammed into Clarisse the moment she recognized Molly – Raymond’s wife. This couldn’t be happening; she was definitely not prepared for this situation. Her fear of losing everything has replaced by the anxiety that she would now lose it. “So, this is how your new secret meeting about exposing a ‘SCAM’ looks like?” Molly yelled, emphasizing more on the word scam. Clarisse had sensed heat coming out from Molly, the betrayal filled Molly’s friendly face – which of course wasn’t so friendly now. The first time when Clarisse had met Molly, she was filled with bliss the only thing her face portrayed was divinity. “It’s not what it looks like…” Raymond spat; Molly gave him look so cold that Clarisse felt an icicle placed behind her spine. Raymond tried to find the words to rationalised with his wife but all he could come up was, “I love you… I love our children.” He sighed. “Please don’t say that…” Molly yelled, “Really Raymond, is that all you’ve got to say. Your actions don’t say so.” She sniffed trying to hold her pieces hesitated to shatter in front of another woman. Clarisse felt like an elephant in the room. Her head hung low with shame and guilt. She already had a great difficulty meeting Raymond’s eyes. And now it’s Molly. She looked in her reflections one last time and gathered all the little courage that she had to face Molly. “Molly please listen – “ “I don’t even want you to be here…” Molly’s words cut through Clarisse’s sentence like a knife through butter. Clarisse swallowed a sob and spoke, “It’s not what it looks Molly…” she sniffled, “I am sorry but Raymond cares about you. He loves you, don’t spoil this.” “Really Clarisse…, ” Molly scoffed, “…blame yourself. You are the one who ruined it.” “I – I was selfish – ” “No…, ” Raymond protested, “…I am sorry. Molly, I am the one to blame.” Clarisse gazed at Raymond with confound eyes, this man still standing by me, she thought. Molly shifted her eyes to Clarisse again, “I had faith in you, Clarisse. I thought you were my friend, now I feel hurt. I was wrong I trusted you. Why would you do this?” “It is hellish to raise a child on your own when you are all alone walking among the strangers in a ruthless city,” Clarisse mumbled. She was fighting within herself against her anxious mind, she kept herself from trembling or breaking down in tears, keeping her pathetic side from bursting out. Molly stared at Clarisse thoughtfully while Clarisse gathered her cloths and walked out of the hotel room, hanging her head down in misery treading through the embers of her recklessness.