Choosing Her Lover Chapter 17

Part Three Of‘Choosing Her Lover’

The Gathering of Storm Clouds

Michael charges up the stairs, two at a time. From upstairs comes the sound of uproar: the shriek of a
woman’s voice, a male roar of rage, banging and thumping, a crashing noise…. perhaps furniture being
overturned?

I hesitate, then follow Michael upstairs. Perhaps I can help to calm down the irate Ben.

Michael bursts through the door at the top of the stairs, sounds of chaos beyond as it swings open.
After a hesitation, I follow him.

Charlotte is standing in the far corner of the room, a sheet wrapped around her but obviously naked
underneath. Red-haired and demon-green-eyed, her face is livid with rage. She shrieks at Ben who is
in his turn, screaming incoherently at James.

James, wrath writ across his features, is naked, his erection still at full mast. Clearly Ben caught the
two very much ‘in the moment’. Not that I haven’t seen James in this condition before, at the Club, but
right now I feel very inappropriate.

What do I say? James and Charlotte weren’t doing anything they shouldn’t. The three of them have got
it arranged between them….

I’ve come into the room behind Michael, but now…. what on earth am I doing here? I retreat into a
corner, trying not to be noticed.

Michael, striding up behind his brother, grabs him by the shoulders. “What the fuck do you think you’re
playing at, Ben?”



Ben swings back to him, his expression amazed. “What am I doing? What about them? I’ve caught
your wife and your so-called best mate in the act, and you ask what I’m doing?”

Michael is clearly trying to keep a lid on his fury, but his voice is strained. “As my brother,” he says, “you
have many privileges, but bursting into the bedroom on my wife is not one of them.”

Ben’s jaw drops. “You can see what they were doing!” he shouts, waving a hand at James and
Charlotte, “And yet it’s me you’re angry at?”

“If you believed there was a problem, perhaps you might have talked with me first? Let me handle it?”
asks Michael, his words icy. “This is your answer? To barge in, interfering in my family life?”

Ben gapes at him. “Michael, your wife and…. and …. him, have been fucking behind your back. Why
are you angry with me?”

Michael stands, stares at the ceiling, swipes a hand through his hair…. His indecision clear. He doesn’t
know how to explain this to his narrow-minded, blinker-eyed brother.

I interrupt. “Ben, not everyone lives the same way.”

Is this wise?

Ben turns to me, murder in his eyes. “What? What the fuck’s it to do with you, Kirstie? It’s none of your
business.”

“You dragged me here, very much against both my advice and wishes. You made it my business. So,
you can damn well listen to me….”

In the background, I see Michael start to protest my words, then apparently think better of it. James is
pulling on his pants, watching me in slit-eyed silence. Charlotte simply stands, wide-eyed, enveloped in
her sheet, lips parted, her chest rising and falling rapidly.



“…. Not everyone lives the same way you do, or the way you think they should.” I say.

“What are you talking about?” Ben is red-faced and sweating, the whites of his eyes showing all around
the irises.

“Ben, haven’t you noticed the rings they all wear?”

“Rings? What rings? What are you talking about?”

“Look at Charlotte’s ring finger. She’s wearing two sets of rings; one set like Michael’s and the other like
James’.”

My voice trails away. Ben looks at me with an expression of sheer disbelief. Then he looks at Charlotte,
who holds up her left hand, with its collection of intricate red, yellow and white gold spirals; then at
James, who also holds up his left hand, displaying a ring in intertwined red and yellow gold. Ben turns
to Michael, who likewise, displays his ring finger, bearing its circle of twisted yellow and white gold.

As though it is writ across his forehead, I see Ben dismiss the evidence of what he is seeing. He stalks
towards me, his face no longer red. I’ve heard the phrase ‘white with rage’. This is the first time I’ve
seen it.

“What the fuck are you suggesting?” he snarls. “That my own brother would ignore it when another
man fucks his wife? He’s only just married the woman….”

“No, I’m suggesting that what you think you see, might not be the reality.”

“And what else could it be? One man making out with another man’s wife?”

How the hell do I answer this?

I don’t think he’s got the emotional equipment to deal with it……



Michael lays a hand on his arm. “Ben…” Ben brushes him away, still moving on me.

“What the fuck are you suggesting?” Ben says, his eyes fixed on me. His voice is low; threat drips from
every word.

Oh, Jeez…. I should have stayed out of this….

But, how could I? I’m here….

And I’m beginning to be scared. I try to back away from Ben, but I’m already against the wall.
Flustered, I look away. “I don’t know what to say to you, Ben. Look at what’s in front of you.”

“No, let’s talk about this. You can’t say something like that and then just pretend you didn’t. What did
you mean, she’s wearing two sets of rings?”

My throat is getting tight. “I mean, you wear someone’s ring because it…. it…. it binds you to that
person. Look at them, Ben….”

He stares at me with sheer loathing. “That’s disgusting. How dare you talk about my family like that?”

Michael tries to interrupt again, “Ben…,” and is ignored.

“Different strokes for different folks, Ben,” I say.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? You’re suggesting that my brother’s shacked up with some
bitch that runs another boyfriend and he doesn’t mind? Is that what you’re saying?”

Michael seizes him at the wrist. “Ben, stop talking to Kirstie. She’s nothing to do with this. Talk to me.”

And still Ben dismisses him. He stands, staring out of the window.



The Puritan mind? Evidence is nothing? Belief and preconception are all that matter?

Ben is breathing heavily. Suddenly, he turns, jabbing a finger at me. “Hang on…. I get it. Are you saying
that’s how you live? That you’ve got someone else out there? Is that it? Is that why you wouldn’t let
things get any closer?”

I bite my lip. This isn’t a good time to fly off the handle and say the wrong thing.

“I’m saying, Ben, that there’s more than one way to live.”

“Answer my question. Have you got someone else? Besides me?”

Ah, well. I didn’t want to do it this way, but….

“Yes.”

His eyes widen. “You bitch. You’ve been playing me along, all this time. Who is he?”

Oh, Jeez….

Bite the bullet, Girl. Get it over with….

“It’s not one.”

“What do you mean? Not one? There’s more than one?”

“Yes, there’s more than one. I’m seeing other men than just you.”


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