Categories > Celebrities > Savage Garden > Night and Day
Night and Day 12/20
"In my solitude, you taunt me with memories that never die. I sit in my chair, filled with despair; there's no one could be so sad. With gloom everywhere, I sit and stare, I know that I'll soon go mad." Solitude, Billie Holiday
Darren stared at his wife as she smiled him, her hand coming up to brush his hair out of his face. "Do you want anymore, darling?" she asked, gesturing towards the bowl of chicken broth she had nearly forced down his throat.
He shook his head, trying his best not to cringe as she reached down and kissed him lightly on the lips. That's not part of the deal/, he wanted to say, but he could not. He seemed to have lost the power of speech since that terrible night. She smiled again and stood to go to the window. She was wrapped in one of his sweaters and he felt only disgust towards this gesture of love. /She has overstepped her boundaries, and she knows it. She's enjoying it. "Mother should be here soon," she said to him, though she knew he would not answer. "You won't have to come down, of course, you need your rest. But she will be very happy to see you, Darren."
Only because I'm the Marquis of Somerset, Darren thought, though once again, did not say. He watched his wife as she looked out his bedroom window at the busy New York street below. She wore a calf-length black dress that did little to hide the now visible bump where her child was growing inside her. He knew he should marvel at the miracle of this life, however, he found his wife disgusting and completely unappealing. Over the past several days, he had watched her flutter about his room, ensuring he was completely comfortable, and had, at first, been very pleased with this attention. However, when Colby had gone so far as to climb into bed next to him, he had felt every muscle in his body tense and he had had little sleep the past few nights.
"Oh, here she is!" Colby suddenly exclaimed and then came to him, leaning down once again to kiss him, her belly brushing against his left hand. He tensed at the touch, though he did not think Colby had noticed until she smiled and took his hand, bringing it to her overgrown stomach. "He's not moving just yet," she murmured. "But he will be soon. He'll be a strong baby." She smiled for a moment longer and then leaned down to kiss him again. "I am very happy you came to me, Darren. I knew you would. You always do. And I love you for it, my wonderful husband. I do love you so very much."
He stared at her, his eyes widening at this confession. They had never said those words to each other, never. It was the one part of the deal Darren could not stand to be broken. The touches, the kisses, the sweater; all of that, he could handle. But his wife telling him she loved him, that he could not even fathom. She walked out of the room and he lay in bed, his thoughts racing. She could not love him. They were not in love, they had been forced into a loveless marriage by their parents in order to please society. When they had married six years earlier, Colby had been twenty-seven years old, an age that many considered well-past the age for a proper marriage. And the whispers about him had been floating around aristocratic London society for so long that his parents had immediately ordered he find a wife. Colby had been the perfect choice, mainly because of her age. Darren was two years younger than her, and yet, he would save her from being an old spinster with too much of an education.
And yet, he had come back to her. He had given up Daniel, the first and only man he had ever loved, for the home life his mother had once described as "truly heavenly". His wife was pregnant with her first and more than likely, final child, and it was his duty to care for her. It was the vow he had so solemnly taken six years previously, to love, honour, and care for her until death did they part. It was not right for him to lay about in bed, depressed about a decision he had made for the good of his wife and his lover. He was going to be a father soon, and he needed to love that child as if it were his own. And he needed to do so willingly.
He began to get out of bed, surprised at how vertiginous he felt. He had to forget Daniel Jones and move on with his life, no matter how difficult it was. He had to forget the Australian's emerald eyes, his ready smile, his deep baritone voice. He had to live for his wife and for her child. He had to live the life his parents had always wanted for him, and not the life he so desperately desired.
He stared at himself in his mirror, disgusted by his ashen face and tear-filled blue eyes. They had a lifeless quality to them, they did not sparkle in anyway. He put his hand to his own reflection and shook his head as the tears began to fall once again. "Daniel," he croaked. "My God, Danny boy, what have you done to me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daniel put his head in his hands, trying to fight off the tears that had been threatening to fall for hours now. He glared at the mounds of paper work scattered across the desk that he had found himself at just the day before. In an effort to further prove to Mr. de Leon that he was truly in love with Kathleen, he had announced to his future father-in-law that he wanted to work in his office. Mr. de Leon had nodded and then asked, "What were you good at in school, Daniel?"
Kathleen had gasped, "Daddy!"
"It's all right, Katie," Daniel had nodded and then turned to his future father-in-law. "I was very good at mathematics, Mr. de Leon."
And so now, Daniel was now some sort of accountant for the company, though he had absolutely no university education and had not set foot into a school since the age of fifteen. It hadn't been his best idea, and he ached to be sitting at a piano, working on the music he had been writing for the past couple of days. But more than he ached for his piano, he longed for the past. He longed for the stolen moments he had shared with Darren, for the kisses and the embraces. But there was nothing now, nothing except work and listening to Kathleen plan a wedding. His wedding. He was trying his absolute best to love Katie, he truly was. But everytime he closed his eyes, Daniel Jones could only see Darren Hayes. And he was going mad because of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There's nothing, Mr. de Leon," Mr. Johannsen sighed. "I have followed him for nearly a week now and I haven't found a thing."
"Nothing at all?" Mr. de Leon asked from behind his desk.
"He has a cup of coffee in the morning, goes to work, takes an hour off at noon to eat at your home or at his house, comes back to work, leaves to change for either dinner at your home or any social engagements, goes where ever he needs to go, and then comes back to his home where he writes music until around two in the morning. His only crime is having a bit of something to drink every night. But then, if I were to report him to the police, I'd have to have them arrest over half of the city, myself included."
"And you followed him every evening?"
"Every night, sir," Mr. Johannsen nodded, though his eyes darted away at the most inopportune moment, and Mr. de Leon noticed.
"Johannsen, what night did you not follow my future son-in-law?"
"New Year's Day, sir," Johannsen sighed. "My mother-in-law was in town, I do apologize. But, sir, if Jones were having an affair, he would be going to her every night. And there has been nothing."
Mr. de Leon nodded and then sat back in his chair, turning to stare out the window at the bustling city and its developing skyline. He found it extremely hard to believe that his irresponsible and ignorant son-in-law was not doing something that would embarass not only his family, but also his daughter. Over the past week, Daniel had seemed extremely lethargic but also overly eager to please. The boy had sworn he would not work for his future father-in-law until after the wedding and yet, just two days earlier, Daniel had announced he was ready to stop playing pianos at weddings and parties, and ready to be a respectable member of society. It just did not make sense and he knew Daniel was up to something. "Keep following him, Johannsen. I will pay you for as long as it takes."
"Sir, what if he really is in love with your daughter and isn't doing anything wrong?"
"He is, Johannsen, I know he is," Mr. de Leon turned and smiled. "And even if he isn't, I think it's about time we found something to make it seem as if Daniel is not the kind-hearted, overly-talented Australian musician my daughter has fallen in love with. I need him out of my daughter's life and I'd rather not turn to my dear friends in Chicago for the job. You understand."
"Yes, Mr. de Leon," Johannsen stood slowly. "Yes, sir, I think I do."
TBC
"In my solitude, you taunt me with memories that never die. I sit in my chair, filled with despair; there's no one could be so sad. With gloom everywhere, I sit and stare, I know that I'll soon go mad." Solitude, Billie Holiday
Darren stared at his wife as she smiled him, her hand coming up to brush his hair out of his face. "Do you want anymore, darling?" she asked, gesturing towards the bowl of chicken broth she had nearly forced down his throat.
He shook his head, trying his best not to cringe as she reached down and kissed him lightly on the lips. That's not part of the deal/, he wanted to say, but he could not. He seemed to have lost the power of speech since that terrible night. She smiled again and stood to go to the window. She was wrapped in one of his sweaters and he felt only disgust towards this gesture of love. /She has overstepped her boundaries, and she knows it. She's enjoying it. "Mother should be here soon," she said to him, though she knew he would not answer. "You won't have to come down, of course, you need your rest. But she will be very happy to see you, Darren."
Only because I'm the Marquis of Somerset, Darren thought, though once again, did not say. He watched his wife as she looked out his bedroom window at the busy New York street below. She wore a calf-length black dress that did little to hide the now visible bump where her child was growing inside her. He knew he should marvel at the miracle of this life, however, he found his wife disgusting and completely unappealing. Over the past several days, he had watched her flutter about his room, ensuring he was completely comfortable, and had, at first, been very pleased with this attention. However, when Colby had gone so far as to climb into bed next to him, he had felt every muscle in his body tense and he had had little sleep the past few nights.
"Oh, here she is!" Colby suddenly exclaimed and then came to him, leaning down once again to kiss him, her belly brushing against his left hand. He tensed at the touch, though he did not think Colby had noticed until she smiled and took his hand, bringing it to her overgrown stomach. "He's not moving just yet," she murmured. "But he will be soon. He'll be a strong baby." She smiled for a moment longer and then leaned down to kiss him again. "I am very happy you came to me, Darren. I knew you would. You always do. And I love you for it, my wonderful husband. I do love you so very much."
He stared at her, his eyes widening at this confession. They had never said those words to each other, never. It was the one part of the deal Darren could not stand to be broken. The touches, the kisses, the sweater; all of that, he could handle. But his wife telling him she loved him, that he could not even fathom. She walked out of the room and he lay in bed, his thoughts racing. She could not love him. They were not in love, they had been forced into a loveless marriage by their parents in order to please society. When they had married six years earlier, Colby had been twenty-seven years old, an age that many considered well-past the age for a proper marriage. And the whispers about him had been floating around aristocratic London society for so long that his parents had immediately ordered he find a wife. Colby had been the perfect choice, mainly because of her age. Darren was two years younger than her, and yet, he would save her from being an old spinster with too much of an education.
And yet, he had come back to her. He had given up Daniel, the first and only man he had ever loved, for the home life his mother had once described as "truly heavenly". His wife was pregnant with her first and more than likely, final child, and it was his duty to care for her. It was the vow he had so solemnly taken six years previously, to love, honour, and care for her until death did they part. It was not right for him to lay about in bed, depressed about a decision he had made for the good of his wife and his lover. He was going to be a father soon, and he needed to love that child as if it were his own. And he needed to do so willingly.
He began to get out of bed, surprised at how vertiginous he felt. He had to forget Daniel Jones and move on with his life, no matter how difficult it was. He had to forget the Australian's emerald eyes, his ready smile, his deep baritone voice. He had to live for his wife and for her child. He had to live the life his parents had always wanted for him, and not the life he so desperately desired.
He stared at himself in his mirror, disgusted by his ashen face and tear-filled blue eyes. They had a lifeless quality to them, they did not sparkle in anyway. He put his hand to his own reflection and shook his head as the tears began to fall once again. "Daniel," he croaked. "My God, Danny boy, what have you done to me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daniel put his head in his hands, trying to fight off the tears that had been threatening to fall for hours now. He glared at the mounds of paper work scattered across the desk that he had found himself at just the day before. In an effort to further prove to Mr. de Leon that he was truly in love with Kathleen, he had announced to his future father-in-law that he wanted to work in his office. Mr. de Leon had nodded and then asked, "What were you good at in school, Daniel?"
Kathleen had gasped, "Daddy!"
"It's all right, Katie," Daniel had nodded and then turned to his future father-in-law. "I was very good at mathematics, Mr. de Leon."
And so now, Daniel was now some sort of accountant for the company, though he had absolutely no university education and had not set foot into a school since the age of fifteen. It hadn't been his best idea, and he ached to be sitting at a piano, working on the music he had been writing for the past couple of days. But more than he ached for his piano, he longed for the past. He longed for the stolen moments he had shared with Darren, for the kisses and the embraces. But there was nothing now, nothing except work and listening to Kathleen plan a wedding. His wedding. He was trying his absolute best to love Katie, he truly was. But everytime he closed his eyes, Daniel Jones could only see Darren Hayes. And he was going mad because of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There's nothing, Mr. de Leon," Mr. Johannsen sighed. "I have followed him for nearly a week now and I haven't found a thing."
"Nothing at all?" Mr. de Leon asked from behind his desk.
"He has a cup of coffee in the morning, goes to work, takes an hour off at noon to eat at your home or at his house, comes back to work, leaves to change for either dinner at your home or any social engagements, goes where ever he needs to go, and then comes back to his home where he writes music until around two in the morning. His only crime is having a bit of something to drink every night. But then, if I were to report him to the police, I'd have to have them arrest over half of the city, myself included."
"And you followed him every evening?"
"Every night, sir," Mr. Johannsen nodded, though his eyes darted away at the most inopportune moment, and Mr. de Leon noticed.
"Johannsen, what night did you not follow my future son-in-law?"
"New Year's Day, sir," Johannsen sighed. "My mother-in-law was in town, I do apologize. But, sir, if Jones were having an affair, he would be going to her every night. And there has been nothing."
Mr. de Leon nodded and then sat back in his chair, turning to stare out the window at the bustling city and its developing skyline. He found it extremely hard to believe that his irresponsible and ignorant son-in-law was not doing something that would embarass not only his family, but also his daughter. Over the past week, Daniel had seemed extremely lethargic but also overly eager to please. The boy had sworn he would not work for his future father-in-law until after the wedding and yet, just two days earlier, Daniel had announced he was ready to stop playing pianos at weddings and parties, and ready to be a respectable member of society. It just did not make sense and he knew Daniel was up to something. "Keep following him, Johannsen. I will pay you for as long as it takes."
"Sir, what if he really is in love with your daughter and isn't doing anything wrong?"
"He is, Johannsen, I know he is," Mr. de Leon turned and smiled. "And even if he isn't, I think it's about time we found something to make it seem as if Daniel is not the kind-hearted, overly-talented Australian musician my daughter has fallen in love with. I need him out of my daughter's life and I'd rather not turn to my dear friends in Chicago for the job. You understand."
"Yes, Mr. de Leon," Johannsen stood slowly. "Yes, sir, I think I do."
TBC
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