Valentine's Day Sucks!

I had Brock pick me up at my friend Shelly's house at one on the day of the prom; we spent that whole day wrapped up in just being with each other. After lunch at the Toulon Café he bought me a beautiful solitaire pendant and said that it was for agreeing to keep him company instead of going to the dance. I took him into the mall and teased him unmercifully as I tried on lingerie and paid for it with my credit card so daddy would see it. I also made him approve of my new swimsuits at the Wicked Weasel store. I told him that after I got my first waxing then he'd have to shave me once a week.

I took him over to the cell phone kiosk and bought him the best PDA Smartphone they had and paid a year in advance on the plan using the same credit card (he later refunded the cost of the service plan to my father telling me that he didn't feel right having me pay for his airtime but he did let me buy him the phone. It cost five hundred dollars all by itself)

Brock wanted to take me home several times but I made him wait until after the prom had started before I would let him take me home. I know he hated to see me at odds with my parents considering how his parents behaved, but I wasn't about to back down and be forced to go with that prick, Warren. When we got to the house at a little after nine that night, the prom had started at seven; the drive was blocked by Warren's limo. The driver came over to us and handed us a bottle and his card and told us that Warren had spiked it. Brock got out his cell phone and called the police as I went to deal with my father.

My father came out of the house ranting like a lunatic and I let him have it both barrels. I was enraged that he would try to force me to date a slime ball like Warren Petrie. I was so focused on my father that I didn't even see Warren come up until he grabbed my arm. Warren jerked me around to face him and demanded to know who I thought I was and how I thought he would let me get away with humiliating him like this.

His tirade was cut short as was his ability to breathe as Brock clamped his hand around Warren's throat and lifted him nearly a foot into the air. My father stepped back when he saw the look of rage on Brock's face. In a clear whisper that was so loud everyone could hear it he said, "The last man to touch her like that lost his freedom and his nuts. You touch her again and it'll cost you your life. If you understand me, blink twice." Warren must have blinked because Brock dropped him and turned to go at my father.

I'll never know what would have happened because the police arrived and after searching the limo and Warren they arrested him on multiple drug counts. Brock turned on my parents after the police had left and said, "I can see how the upper crust really are the people you want your daughter to associate with. I mean every family should want rapists and drug dealers in it as long as their family has enough money, right?"

My mother nearly collapsed and my father looked like he wanted to throw up. They had nearly arranged for me to be raped by the son one of their rich family "in crowd" cronies. Brock took me in his arms, held me tightly, and gave me a long steaming kiss before he left to go home.

After that night my mother revised her opinion and made an effort to get to know Brock. After she got to know him she became an active supporter of our relationship. Brock and I spent every moment we could together. We began to check out colleges and he told me of his fears regarding what would happen when he told his father where we had decided to go. We had been together for almost three years and his parents had never even made time to meet me so I held little hope that they would be reasonable.

When prom rolled around again my father and I had another fight. I informed him that this year I was eighteen and would be going with Brock to both prom and graduation. I told him he had a choice: He could get out of my life, or he could get over his class prejudice and be happy for me. I was shocked when mother told my father that if he said one more negative word about me going to prom with Brock or my spending the night with him she would serve him with divorce papers the very next morning. He didn't like Brock but he loved my mother too much to risk his marriage.

Brock and I spent prom night in a suite at the Doubletree. When he made love to me it was more incredible than I could ever have imagined. It was, simply put, the best night of my life. Brock spent hours proving again and again the he loved me. When we woke up the next day he did his best to show me again.

After long debate we decided to go to the U of M Columbia. They had an excellent program, terrific instructors and they were close enough so that I could come see my mother when I had the time. Both Brock and I loved computers and had decided that we would enter the U of M Columbia University School of Information Science and Learning Technologies. We received our acceptance letters and made plans for the move to Columbia. We took a long weekend and found a marvelous three-bedroom apartment close to campus and shopping. We also took the time to find Brock a short term lease on a furnished apartment in Torrington. He was sure his dad was going to throw him out when he refused to go to college here in town.

He was right and we spent the last three months in a furnished apartment a few blocks from my mom and dad's house. I had always thought that Brock's descriptions of how his parents behaved were a little biased until his mother asked him when he had gotten a cell phone before we left for the last time. He'd had it for two years and she hadn't paid enough attention to Brock to know he had it! Before we left he made sure to tell them that if they wanted to be a part of his life again that all they had to do was ask.

We started college in the fall and due to our academic achievements we started as sophomores. The only freshman classes we had were two humanities electives that we could take anytime before graduation. As a surprise moving-in present he bought new laptop computers for us both as well as a desktop system for us to share. I spent almost every night in his arms and for the next three years we were happy… busy but happy.

Then I got a mild ear infection. I took the antibiotics to treat it. The doctor, however, neglected to inform me that the prescription would negate my use of my birth control pill. Eight weeks later I found out I was pregnant just before the end of our next to the last quarter. I was happy but scared. We wanted to wait before we had children. I wanted to wait until Brock and I had a couple of days together before I told him about the baby.

I went home that Wednesday and told my mother but while I was there I started to have pains and she rushed me to the hospital. I miscarried that afternoon. I immediately fell into a deep depression and tried to avoid Brock as much as possible. I couldn't tell him I had lost our baby; I knew he would hate me for it. Yes, that's not rational, but during that time I wasn't rational. I began snapping at Brock for no reason; I arranged my schedule to conflict with his as much as I possibly could. I knew that when I told him I had lost our baby he would leave me. I just knew it.

My friends saw what was going on and called my mother. As they told her what was happening she made plans to come visit with a friend of hers. Martin Willis is a clinical psychologist and he works at Torrington Memorial Hospital as a grief/rape counselor. Mother would never treat me herself --she is also a psychologist -- but she brought the best person she knew to help. After a long argument with mother, I agreed to sessions with Martin.

After several weeks Martin helped to pull me out of my depression. It seems the miscarriage threw my hormones out of whack and that coupled with the loss of the child had been affecting my judgment severely. I took the time to try to fix my mistakes. I got several friends and their boyfriends to help me set up the third bedroom in the apartment for a special "Fantasy Date Night". I knew I had my classes sewn up and was ready to graduate. I think the only thing that kept me from going insane, since I wouldn't let Brock help me, were my classes. They gave me an outside focus.

Sherry, her boyfriend Tom, his brother Mark and his boyfriend, Will, showed up to help me. They had driven here straight from work and had brought their friends, Phil and Mike, along to help. We were just about finished with the decorating when Brock called. He sounded funny like he was crying. He said it was sinuses but something was wrong. I had to fib to him so I could spring my surprise on him and we got off the phone. The guys were finished and I gave them each a hug and a peck on the cheek as they left. I got dressed and went to order a special dinner from our favorite restaurant.

When I got back I found the strangest things. Our bedroom had a new deadbolt lock on it and the king-sized bed had been pushed into my bedroom. It reeked of sex! All of my things from the other room were strewn about on the other bed and the floor; I thought What the hell is going on? Then I saw Brocks phone on the bed. I went cold and a lump of ice settled over my heart. I called mother and Martin and absolutely everyone else I could think of to help me find Brock. As I hung up from calling on the house phone my cell phone rang. I picked it up and nearly died. Brock had collapsed at the doctor's office and was in the hospital. I called mother and she called his mother and told me they would meet me at the hospital.

I don't remember getting to the hospital but I must have. I sat in that room holding his hand for what seemed like hours. He would shiver and his teeth would chatter in his sleep. I had just found my way back to him and now I was afraid I would lose him again. Suddenly his hand went stiff as a board. He spoke with such venom it shocked me, "Get your hands off of me!" I dropped his hand I was so shocked at the tone of his voice. He was looking at me with such hatred in his eyes! "Doctor Vogel called you?" I nodded "Call him in here now. Him and a nurse!"

I was so shocked I just did as he asked. When the doctor came in he fired him for calling me! Then he had the nurse remove us both. I was stunned. My life had become surreal and I just couldn't cope. I fell to the floor in the hall. The doctor took one look at me and called for another nurse. The next thing I knew I was on an exam table and my mother and Linda Timmons were standing there.

Linda spoke softly, "Hi Sweetie, how are you doing?"

I took stock and said "All things being equal I'd rather be in Brock's room." At that I burst into tears. After a few moments I calmed enough to ask, "How is Brock doing? Is he going to be all right?"

They exchanged worried frowns and mother started "…Em… You see Wanda… we… don't exactly know where he is right now…"

I sat bolt upright and demanded, "What the hell do you mean you don't know where he is?!"

Linda said, "Calm down Wanda! We have people looking for him as we speak. I also know what he thinks you've been doing and it's why he ran."

That brought me up short. "What are you talking about? What does he think I've been doing?" The chunk of ice over my heart grew and froze a little more.

Linda looked at me and said, "Who were the seven men at your apartment today? Who did you have sex with in your bedroom?"

I gaped at her in outrage! "There were only six men and one woman. I've never been with anyone but Brock and I never will! How did you know there was anyone at my apartment today?"

She told me about her conversation with Brock and the pictures of me kissing them goodbye.

I started to panic, I hadn't done what he thought I did and I'd never convince him of it "Ohgodohgodohgod!" I lay back curled into a ball and started to sob once more.

The next thing I was aware of I was in a private room and the doctor was calling for my mother. After a few moments she came back into the room and said, "Your friends are here to see you."

I made no reply. Brock hated me and if that was the way it was I had no desire to continue living. He had been my life and I wanted no other. Tears began to fall down my cheeks as I thought of what I'd lost.

"Honey? Look at me, dear." My mother's voice was insistent so I rolled over and looked at her. Shelly was standing there with Tom. I nodded at them and tried to curl up again but my mother would not let go of my hand.

"Baby, Tom and Shelly think they know why Brock thinks you cheated on him." I looked over into her eyes and she said, "While you were working they slipped into you bedroom and had a quickie. When Brock called they got spooked and forgot to clean up after themselves. I think Brock might have mistaken them for you and a lover."

I began to sob again, "I didn't… I've never had a lover besides Brock and I can never prove it to him. I don't even know where he is."

My mother slid on to the bed and pulled me in to her arms and began to rock me back and forth. A very embarrassed Tom said, "Shelly has something to tell you."

Shelly pulled a chair to my side and said, "I don't know where he is right now but I do know where he'll be in…" She checked her watch, "…one hour and twenty-seven minutes. He's on a Greyhound headed for Springfield." I looked at her in disbelief.

"My brother is a state cop, remember? I told him about Brock leaving the hospital and being very sick and he ran a check on his ATM and credit cards. He drew a big advance and caught a bus to Springfield. We can be there in less than two hours. My brother is downstairs in his cruiser and has permission to drive us there."

Before she had mentioned her brother, I was pulling on my shoes. I was still dressed, thank God, and as I stood up I grabbed her hand and began pulling her towards the door. Mother said she would handle the discharge paperwork and meet us in Springfield.

On the drive there John, Shelly's brother, took a call on the radio. Brock was in the hospital in Springfield in critical condition. He had collapsed inside an apartment he had rented and the landlord found him and called the EMS.

I guess I lost it for a while because the next thing I knew I was looking at Brock in the ICU ward sitting in a chair praying for him to survive. The doctor told us he had triple pneumonia and there was a chance he wouldn't make it. He didn't seem to want to fight to live. When my parents showed up, they led everyone to a lounge/waiting room. I stayed and Brocks mother held my hand as we wept as we kept vigil.

~~~~~

Chapter 3

Linda Timmons

It was three days before they would let him have visitors. His mother and Wanda never left the hospital. Brock's father had arrived and when he heard about where Brock was, he brought bags for both Wanda and Brock's mother. I talked to them for a long time before getting them all to see things my way. At this point, I think I'm the only one he would trust anyway.

I convinced them to let me be the first one to talk to Brock. I was hoping that I could straighten things out between Wanda and Brock before anymore misunderstandings took place. Wanda had been inconsolable for the last three days and was sure that Brock would leave her. Brock's father had been to the apartment complex and had gotten his rental agreement voided by informing them of his delirium at the time of his having signed it. Brock's father is a very successful engineer. His success came at the expense of his marriage and his relationship with his son. Personally it's not a price I'd have been willing to pay, but that's just me.

I have known Brock and Wanda for six years and have considered them my friends for most of that time. I talked to Brock a couple of times a week after they went to college and I spoke to Wanda even more frequently. That Brock could believe that Wanda had cheated on him was a testament to just how shattered his mind was in my opinion. Wanda worshiped the ground he walked on and from what she had told me over the years the thought of another man touching her made her ill.

When Brock had described what he had seen as I looked at the pictures he showed me I knew that he must have been delirious or delusional or hallucinating. He said she was wearing a silk negligee, but the photo showed her wearing a scoop necked tee shirt.

He had said she kissed them all passionately but the videos showed only pecks on the cheek. I had kept possession of his laptop and the memory card after we got to Springfield. I knew that I'd need them to sort this mess out. I was also the only one who knew they existed aside from Brock and Wanda.

~~~~~

Brock

I woke up again and I could breathe a little easier, the pain was less than it had been. I wasn't in the glass walled room anymore. I was confused and wasn't sure where I was. Then the memories started. They were all fuzzy and disconnected, disjointed. My despair began to mount as I thought about what I thought I knew had happened. A nurse peaked in, saw me awake and left again. The doctor came in and explained that they had kept me sedated for the last three days so they could treat me. He left and a moment later Linda came in with my laptop, and sat down.

"How are you feeling Brock?" She smiled thinly at me and I knew she was worried.

"I've had better days. How long have I been here? Where is here by the way?" I knew I was in a hospital but I needed to know which one.

"You're in the hospital in Springfield. You ran away from the one in Columbia and nearly gave your mother a heart attack when you ran away like that." Her voice was very disapproving. She had never spoken to me like that before.

"I just couldn't stay. She wanted to rewrite history and then with what Wanda did to us I couldn't deal with it. So I left." My voice sounded weak and despairing even to me. Then a memory surfaced. "Why are you here first? I'd have expected dad or mom or Wanda before you'd have been allowed to see me."

She smiled "You've been unconscious for three day, Brock." I wasn't surprised at that revelation. "It took me most of that time to get them to let me talk to you first and to tell you some things that you need to know. I think I'm the only one who could tell you what you need to hear and be believed." She reached into the case and pulled out my laptop. "I've had your laptop ever since your father retrieved it from your apartment the day you collapsed. Since your father didn't know about the photos, I saw no reason to tell him. No one but you, Wanda, and I know they exist."

I couldn't see where she was going with this. I didn't want to see the pictures again. She continued "I want you to look at them with me," she held up her hand to forestall my protest, "before you say anything I think you should know that when you showed them to me I didn't see what you told me you were seeing when you took them. The doctor says that you were delirious or maybe in a delusional state for several hours, perhaps the whole day, before you collapsed. Your brain wasn't getting enough oxygen."

My skepticism must have shown on my face because she continued. "When you collapsed, your lungs were in the process of shutting down. They were no longer processing oxygen the way they were supposed to. The doctor gave you a dose of antibiotics that slowed the deterioration but then you ran away and the added stress from it caused your second collapse. In the last three days they have told your parents twice that they didn't know if you'd survive or not. You're still very sick and it'll be a while before you can go home. At the same time Wanda's parents and I have been keeping her under a very close watch because if you die she'll try to follow almost immediately."