3 CHARLOTTE

. She cried from 5:30 till 8 o'clock. She had made a big mistake and she had found out the hard way. Some minutes to 9, a car pulled up at her driveway and she recognized it as hers. She knew immediately that it was Jon. The bastard! He had left her bleeding and unconscious on the floor. There was no way she was allowing him sleep at her house tonight. She trudged towards the door to lock it but before she could get there, a hefty dark skinned man barged in supporting Jon who apparently couldn't walk on his own.

"I found his car parked at the middle of the road", he started not bothering to give a name. "The brake lights were on and when I looked through the window, he was there sitting, blank. I tapped him and he gave me your address. Are you his wife?"

She wanted to shout "No" and kick the both of them out the door but the good part of her was strong enough to resist the urge.

"Yes", she said and assisted him to sit down. "Thank you."

"Wish your folks would do same", he said and walked out.

She knew he was talking about racism and it pricked her because she also knew she would not have stopped to drive a black man home if she found one daydreaming in his car in the middle of a busy road. She was not racist but she couldn't risk it. However, that was the least of her worries now. She turned to face her husband.

"Jon?"

He stood up immediately and cleaned his face with his palm like someone coming out of a trance.

"Where am I?", he asked. "Charlotte?..." He rushed over to her and saw the blood on the floor.

"Blood? What happened? Did anyone hurt you?", he caressed her cheeks. The same cheeks he had brutally slapped! She wanted to kick him in the balls and shout at him to stop the fucking act but she held her cool.

"No one dear", she said.

"Oui, I won't allow anyone hurt you." He walked over to where the baby was now lying asleep. "My little boy, my dear. What's his name again? I've been forgetting a lot lately."

"Har...em.. Martell", she said.

"Martell?", he frowned. "That rhymes with cartel but I see you like it. We could call him Marty for short. Oui?"

"Of course", she said confused. She couldn't understand what was going on. He had slapped her just a few hours ago because she refused to agree with him on Martell as the boy's name and now he had shown up asking her if anyone had hurt her and questioning the very name he had chosen.

He stood up and walked up to her. She closed her eyes expecting the worst but he held her in a tight embrace.

"I made the best decision of my life the day I put a ring on your finger. I love you Charlotte, more than you can imagine and I hope you see it through my actions.

Charlotte was unsure of what to say but she was sure of one thing. What had happened was a mistake and it wouldn't happen again. Of course she was wrong and that false assertion was only the beginning of her problems. It was the first time but it didn't become the last. A week later, he came back from work and beat her up because he heard her call him Marty.

"His name is Clyde", he had said.

The next week his name was Jonson and the upper week it was Hart. Every week, Charlotte received the beating of her life, or so she thought until the next week. The most annoying part of it was the drama that followed at 9pm. The same pattern. A stranger finds him blank in the middle of a busy road and brings him home. He feigns ignorance of everything, helps clean up the injuries he earlier inflicted and professes more love to her.

One day, Charlotte had gotten fed up. Jon was getting more creative with the names and his slaps were getting harder. She made sure she didn't call the child any name when he came back from work, she just breastfed him silently.

"What is his name?", he asked pulling his white sleeved shirt. It had to be a spell or something, Charlotte thought. Maybe it was the shirt.

"What is his name?", he asked again.

"I don't know. Jon perhaps?", she replied frustrated.

"Non", he shook his head slowy. "That is my name. His name is Spence." Charlotte braced up, received her two slaps and watched him take her car keys and wear his shirt. He walked out of the house and she waited for him to enter the car before she came out. She was going to follow him to wherever he was going and catch the stranger that would pretend to be a Good Samaritan by bringing him back home at exactly 9pm. She ran towards the garage and opened the door. She took the keys of an old Mercedes from the post, entered and drove out of the mansion. She sighted him immediately. He was already at the end of the street and preparing to enter the main road. She zoomed off, momentarily blinded by her rage. She was going to catch him today and whatever games he played would end. Following him was very easy as he wasn't on speed. Other drivers blasted their horns at him urging him to move faster but he didn't increase his speed one bit.

"Curses!", a man in a black jeep cried after maneuvering to leave his back. "You've been doing this for three months and I always get home late. Now my wife thinks I'm cheating." Charlotte paused as she calculated in her head. She remembered clearly that it had started exactly three months back. He had been causing a gridlock every week for three months! It couldn't be just an act. Panicking, she continued to follow him keeping a respectable distance from him. He drove around aimlessly for about two hours before stopping on a deserted road. Charlotte watched from afar as he put the brake lights on. Another thirty minutes passed before two men came along. They walked cautiously towards where he parked looking around at intervals. They got to the car and Charlotte gasped as they brought out a gun and pointed at him. He didn't move from his position in the driver's sit and they went ahead to frisk him, collecting his phone and some money. She watched as they ran away into the darkness but he still wasn't moving. Another 10 minutes passed. A man walked past the car but stopped noticing someone seated at the driver's wheel. She could hear the man question him.

"Hello. Are you okay?"

No answer.

"What's your name? What are you doing parked here all by yourself?"

He opened the door and Charlotte feared that he would discipline the old man but he didn't even move. He just came out and stared at the man.

"53, Herrington Street, Reeves family mansion", he said. The old man backed away slowly and ran off but he stood there. The rain started falling almost immediately and Charlotte decided that she couldn't leave him there all by himself. All the things he did, he had not been himself. He was under the influence of something. She abandoned her Mercedes on the road and walked up to him.

"Jon?"

"53, Herrington Street, Reeves family mansion", he said.

"Enter the car", she said. He walked around, opened the passenger door and sat down. She entered the driver's seat and drove back home. They got to the mansion around some minutes past 9 and she assisted him to sit down once they had entered. He wasn't still talking.

"Jon?", she said.

He stood up immediately and cleaned his face with his palm like someone coming out of a trance.

"Where am I?", he asked. "Charlotte?..."

She grabbed him and hugged him, tears flowing from her eyes. He held her tightly and that night, they slept happily together like any normal couple. The next morning, she woke up early and went to see the local priest. After some prayers, he told her not to worry herself anymore that it was all over. True to his word, nothing of such happened for the next seven years. Then one day, the unexpected happened. A client in the Maldives had cancelled a meeting with her at the last minute and she had returned home from the airport annoyed. It was almost midnight when she got home and she was surprised to see that the light in her room was still on. She searched for her keys in her bag and opened the door. She heard a scuffle from upstairs and she frowned. Marty was awake past bedtime again. She went upstairs to his room and on entry, found him fast asleep. She put off his room light and went straight to her room. The light in her room was still on so she decided to change into her nightwear first before putting it off.

She opened her wardrobe and groped absent mindedly for her nightwear. And just then her hand touched a face. Someone's face. She screamed and moved back and a blonde lady jumped out of her wardrobe and ran out of her room half naked. She turned to face Jon whose eyes were shut tightly like someone in a nightmare. He must have been willing the ground to swallow him at that moment because he didn't say a word or even dare open his eyes. She had caught him redhanded. That was it for Charlotte. She slept in her son's room that night and as early as 6am the next morning, she was already on the way to meet her lawyer. She was going to have a divorce.

The process didn't take more than a week. Jon agreed and signed all the papers without coercion. He had met her privately and begged for her forgiveness but she wasn't hearing any of it. She had gone through a lot with him already and that was the last straw. The divorce was concluded in no time and Jon kissed his son goodbye, promising to come visiting from France every year. Marty had insisted a final goodbye at the airport so Charlotte had to drive him there. She had stayed in the car, her eyes teary as she watched father and son hold each other in a tight embrace. Then he left. Back to France and away from her life forever. It had happened just a week ago and Charlotte was still nursing her wounds. Hearing Sheila talk about it so casually added salt to her injury. Jon was probably with some other chick at the moment.

"Hey", Sheila snapped her fingers breaking her chain of thoughts. "What are you thinking about now?"

"Jon", she replied. "It happened too soon...everything."

"Forget about Jon", Sheila said waving her hands dismissively. Have you heard about the red match?"

Charlotte stared hard at her friend. "Remember you talked me into going out with him. And what's the red match? Some hot guy?"

Sheila thought about it for a while."Not exactly. A place where you can find some hot guys."

"Oh wow. More Jon's"

"You're only succeeding in making life harder for yourself", Sheila laughed. "Its a dating site. It doesn't hurt to try."

Charlotte poured some syrup on the pancake before her and gobbled it down without a word. There was no way she was going to get herself on a dating site, texting jobless eighteen year old guys. Nothing serious could ever come out of a dating site and she needed something serious. She needed her son to grow up with a father that loved the both of them. That was what she was looking for, not the deceptful promises of young hot blooded teens looking for a few hundred bucks.

"Aren't you going to say anything?", Sheila asked.

"Well, I'm not interested in a dating site, Shei. I need something serious. Commitment."

"Commitment?", Sheila laughed standing up. "I have a meeting to attend by 2. I'll be on my way now." Charlotte knew that there was no meeting. It was her way of saying "I'm disgusted by your old fashioned idea of love so I'm leaving your house now."

"Alright", Charlotte replied.

She escorted her outside the house and watched as she entered the Mustang.

"Take care of yourself girl", she said and zoomed off.

"Sure thing", Charlotte said to the winds and walked back to her house.