There was a smiley face drawn at the end of the note. Yesterday, she would have kept the note and written a whole journal entry about it, today, she tore it up and threw it in the bin. Then she drank all the water and still feeling thirsty, went downstairs for more.
She had just taken the water and was headed for the stairs when she heard voices. They were not coming from upstairs, she went back to the kitchen and listened carefully, an unfamiliar female voice gave a throaty laugh, from the storage unit on the left.
She knew every inch of the villa so she knew that the only thing in the left wing was the gym and storage. Her feet were moving quietly towards the voices before she could command them not to.
The place was dark, but a light was shining from the gym so it was not very dark. She heard it again, the throaty laugh of a woman but now, it was joined by the calm deep one that she had come to love, Taylor's. She immediately imagined the woman with him, the woman on the phone who had made him happy. Tall, athletic, thin as a stick with a couple of tattoos on her arms and one on her buttock and blonde, oh her yes, she had to be blonde, no brunette could pull off laughing from the throat like that.
She felt such a violent hatred for the woman behind the door that intensity of it almost knocked her off her feet. She was not the jealous type, never had been; Tom once cheated on her with a high school kid, Fallon had befriended the girl and they were still friends. She had never been one to scrutinize texts or tell him not to hang out with his female friends. She had never felt any true jealously until then.
"Take off your clothes," the woman said, "here, let me help you."
Taylor groaned, "That's the most fun part of it, isn't it?"
"What do you mean, we are just but beginning to have fun. Now, down you go, give me a couple of good ones."
Good what? Fallon wished she could be a fly on the wall. She would literally lay down the lives of her two children to be able to see what was going on inside that room unobserved.
A few shuffles and and noises later, it went entirely silent, apart from the woman's occasional interjection of 'Yes! Hit it! Faster! Good one!' and Taylor's heavy panting.
Fallon knew it was wrong. It felt wrong on so many levels, listening in to two people having an intimate moment like that, but she was transfixed, unable to move.
She was entirely convinced that Taylor was wrong. She felt it in her bones. He ought to be with her. They were meant to be together. If it was her in that room instead of that faceless woman, she will not just be making him pant, she will be making him scream. What sort of a person even moaned like that? 'Good one??' Please. She should be singing his name in all the octaves known to man. Even though Fallon had not experienced it, she knew Taylor was good in bed, she just knew. Should she open the door and show her how to appreciate such a fine species of a man? Maybe if she joined them, she could get to have him just this once? Or she could show him what he was missing.
Taylor felt dizzy, she tried to stand up straight but she had been stooping at the door for a long time and the blood came rushing up her head. She groped for the wall in front of her but missed, she fell back, hitting a bike behind her and it crushed down, she followed immediately, welcoming in the darkness as she went. Anything, even darkness, was better than the torture of hearing Taylor with another woman.
When she next regained her senses, someone was carrying her, his arms were sweaty but they were strong and he smelled like safety. She could hear voices, but they seemed so far away and darkness was closing in, just on the edges of her mind. She fought it but she could not open her eyes, they were glued together.
A woman was speaking, her voice urgent, "Which one is her room?"
"Room four at the end of the hall, it is too far, here, let's put her here in two, its mine."
"What's wrong with her? Is she going to be okay?"
"She is fine. She just fainted. She is pregnant, early stage issues as you know."
Fallon felt herself being eased gently on a soft bed. A hand touched her forehead lightly and was soon replaced by something cool but it wasn't cold, it felt like cool glass.
"She looks awfully young to be pregnant. Did you get her pregnant?" The woman's tone was reproachful.
"Of course not. It was some douchebag who didn't know the value of a treasure when he had one."
Calm sure hands sifted through her hair to the back of her head and gently prodded, "A slight lump but I don't think it is a concussion."
"What was she doing down there?"
"She must have come downstairs for a bottle of water and heard our voices, she has sensitive ears, a good quality in her line of work I suppose, she is studying to be a journalist."
"Who is she?"
"I told you," the voice was impatient, "Her name is Fallon Eftekhari she is..."
"I mean, who is she to you?"
The voice hesitated a little before it replied, "Two weeks ago, she was my patient, a few days later and she was the only thing I could think of, couple of days more she became much more than that and now..."
"And now?"
"She is..."
No. No. Fallon tried to fight the darkness, she had to hear the last word, it was the most important of them all. That special word, spoken softly, like a caress as a gentle hand playing with her hair. She had to hear it, but the darkness was too much, it closed in and she drifted off before she could hear it.