Enjoy a preview of my recent work I plan to finish soon!

I met him at work – an operator named Mayweather. I was a new mechanic at my first duty station and knew only the other mechanics. I thought he was friendly and always eager to help. During the first week of working with him, he would jump up immediately when asked for a tool or help lifting something. However, I soon discovered how lazy he was, often making me search for help elsewhere as he slept on a stool beside me. He constantly corrected me as I would replace parts in his vehicle, saying, “I don’t think you should do that,” or “Are you sure you should do that?” On numerous other occasions, he would rapidly finish a task just to ask, “What next?” I hated him – at work. However, at home, it was a different story.

Mayweather’s first words to me were, “Never done a service, either?” I was scrolling through my phone, leaning against a tan metal vehicle as tall as a low ceiling with a track as tall as my upper thigh. My head shot up quickly when he spoke, noticing a man slouching against the vehicle in front of me, one knee up, squinting not to get blinded by the beaming sun that pointed directly at the closed-in box made by the surrounding parked vehicles. He seemed to blend in perfectly like a shadow naturally made by the sun. He reminded me of a cowboy sleeping in front of an old house in the Wild West. The only thing missing was a straw sticking out of his mouth; his accent matched the essence.

At this time, I was believed to be in an open marriage, which was easier to explain and more acceptable than what it really was: a contract marriage. I was married to my closest male friend, Gavin. There was no love or sex. To me, we were simply roommates. I worked during the day; he’d gamble throughout the night. I even allowed him to be with other people, as we were only legally bound, not romantically, and assumed the same courtesy. However, Gavin seemed to think otherwise, as he asked me one night before bedtime, from his jerry-rigged bed made out of couch cushions on the opposite side of the room, why I didn’t want to sleep with him. I usually found pushing off his advancing remarks easy. Still, as I rolled over to ignore the absurdity, it wasn’t enough to drown out the pestering woes of previous mentions of “it’s us against the world.” I hopped out of bed and went outside, never uttering a word to Gavin, granting him no access to my gracious stare.

Desperate for alone time, I started aimlessly speed walking down the sidewalk to the main road, destination unknown. As my slight gallop turned into a slothing stroll, I could finally breathe. Being in a loveless marriage was more challenging than I thought. Unbeknownst to myself, I started thinking about Mayweather. There was something about him that intrigued me. Maybe it was his mysterious past and way of living, his caring nature and longing to help people, or his confident and appealing demeanor that intimidated and slightly disgusted me to the point of interest. He wasn’t THAT bad-looking, either. Tall and fit. Soft gray eyes that felt unpredictable but safe. A slight smug yet gentle smirk that matched his country boy twang so tenderly. With his relaxed yet assertive stance, hands in his pockets, and outward-pointed cowboy boots, the only thing missing is a cowboy hat on his coarse brown hair. The kind of guy that was never my type. However, Gavin’s adamancy made me think there was something more there. At most, Mayweather and my few exchanges consisted of flirtatious jabs at work until he invited me to hang out with him and his friends, David and Josie, in the city that weekend. When Gavin found out about this, there was no hesitation in expressing his opinions, which only made me lose confidence in his words and motives even more than I already had. Gavin was exhausting to deal with, especially when men were involved. He took our marriage too seriously, and I refused to address the elephant in the room. I was tired of him, and that’s all that I cared about.

“How long are you going to avoid me, Cora?” I heard Gavin say from behind as I jolted around to face him.

“You followed me?” I asked, my head thrusting with my words.

“You don’t think I’m going to let you walk alone, do you?” Gavin replied. With his hands in his jacket pocket, he started walking forward, making me backstep and turn to create some distance.

“We’re on post. I’m safe,” I groaned, spinning around to walk in the opposite direction, passing Gavin. I had hoped he would give up if I continuously shifted directions, but it did nothing.

“Just listen to me,” Gavin said while following my every move.

“Stop following me.”

“I’m trying to help you.” 

I stopped, turning to sneer at him, “How?”

“I wouldn’t trust them if I were you.”

“What are you talking about?” I assumed Gavin was talking about when Josie told him she “used to be a pathological liar, but not anymore.” However, this assumption was only met with more confusion as Gavin continued to plead his case on how the operator in question and his friends were pathological liars who only wished to manipulate me into pushing Gavin away. They were right about one thing, just not the pathological part.

Eventually, Gavin and I arrived home, continuing the argument and ending the night with a hole in the wall and a sad explanation of “I could’ve hit you, but I didn’t.” The following day, whether Gavin knew or not, I awoke early, snuck out of the shared room, and drove five minutes down the road to meet Mayweather at Josey and David’s house, quickly sending Gavin an “I’ll be back later” text as I stepped out of her car.

– End of Preview –

---

Things have been crazy lately! Since our move is almost officially over (still have miscellaneous things to move over), I should resume my posting schedule soon. Thank you for sticking with me!

Here’s one of my recently most-played songs while you wait: