Saving Moriarty

There's a line between being someone's wife and being Jim Moriarty's wife. It's been 14 years and I haven't thought about how much I missed my freedom. I gave up everything to become his. I'm Melanie Moriarty. Here's my story.


7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7


                  It was raining today. The third day in a row. I loved when it rained when I was little. Evan and I used to sneak outside and jump in puddles until we were drenched to the bone. He always ended up sick. I never did.

                 I stood by the window and watched. Drops fell onto the pavement and the umbrellas of the people hurrying down the streets. Some lived in the building. They had no idea what kind of criminal they lived near. Jim had files upon files of them, their family, and their friends.

                “There goes Mr. and Mrs. Green,” I said. Sweet couple…  They lived in the flat below this one.

                “It’s starting to storm,” Sebastian replied, flipping to the next page of the newspaper. There wasn’t anything good in those stupid pages.

                “They always go,” I said, wiping the frost off the window from my breath.

                “Sentiment.” Sebastian sighed heavily. He folded the paper back up and set it on the couch beside him.

                “I think it shows how much they love her,” I smiled. It’s a rather sad story.

                Their daughter’s grave was just outside of town. They always held each other’s hands, Mrs. Green’s head on his shoulder. It was around eight-thirty in the morning when their daughter was killed in a car accident. She was only nineteen.

                Rumors say reckless driving or driving under the influence. Jim told me that she’d crossed the wrong people. Then he told me that he’d taken care of it and that I had nothing to worry about. I wasn’t worried. That poor girl…

                It had been a few years since her death. Nothing stopped them from saying good morning to her every day, not even these stormy days.

                “I’m hungry,” Sebastian said, propping his feet up on the coffee table and turning on the telly.

                I went to prepare dinner. Sebastian was here when Jim was off on business. Whether it was for my protection or because he didn’t trust me, I didn’t know. Probably both. But it had become second nature to me.

                I began to make lasagna. I’d made the dough last night. All I had to do was cut it. The sauce didn’t take very long to cook. I topped it with the last of the cheese and covered it with aluminum. Sebastian would just have to wait the half hour it took to cook. 

                “He’s out of town. There’s no need to make an actual meal. Order some take away or something,” Sebastian complained.

                “If that’s what you want, then you can do just that,” I answered, filling one side of the sink with warm, soapy water. I liked everything to be clean. In case Jim came back…

                I washed my hands and dried them on a dish towel. The kitchen looked spotless. Once last once over and I noticed that there was a bouquet of flowers on the breakfast bar. White roses. My favorite.

                I picked them up and put all of them into a vase except for one. I carried it into the bedroom with me, smelling its sweet scent.

                Jim had changed from his usual suit into more casual attire. White pants and a light blue polo shirt. He matched my white tea-length dress with blue flowers on it. He smiled when he turned around.

                “I wasn’t sure you were coming,” I smiled, smelling the rose one more time.

                “I wouldn’t miss our two year anniversary, Melanie. It’s an important day for us,” Jim said. He took the rose and slipped it behind my ear. “The sweetest thing in my life.” He took my right hand and slipped his right arm around to the small of my back. He only did a few steps of a waltz before he dipped me into a kiss. “The dinner smells delicious.”

                “Thank you. I made it from scratch,” I said, smiling. I did love to cook.

                When we returned to the living room, Sebastian had disappeared. Jim kissed my forehead and said he’d be in the study for a while.

                I fixed a fresh salad and breadsticks to go along with the meal. Everything was set perfectly on the table. It looked like a really fancy meal from a restaurant in a romantic movie.

                The dinner was peaceful. Almost like we were a normal husband and wife. Sometimes, like tonight, I let myself think those thoughts. To pretend that I’d married a good man. But when I was alone. I knew it would never be true.


                Jim woke up before I did, if he even slept at all. He was rubbing my stomach underneath my garment. Only his fingertips lightly running across my skin. He had himself propped up on his other arm, looking down at me. He hummed a classic Chopin piece.

                “Did you sleep well?” He asked softly.

                “Yes.” I smiled. These were the moments I lived for. Like that anniversary night. When we were almost normal.

                “Good. There’s something I wish to discuss with you,” Jim said. Discuss? That’s an unusual term for him to use. He doesn’t discuss. He tells.

                “Something work related?” I asked, rolling onto my back.

                Jim leaned down to kiss my lips and hovered over top of me. He kissed down my neck to my collar bone. “No. Nothing work related.” He pulled the night dress up, making me lean up to get off my shoulders. He tossed it to the floor and continued with the kisses further down.

                I liked the feeling of his lips on my skin, and the feeling of his hands lightly running down my sides to my hips. I shivered from the cold. The only warmth was his breath as he moved down my chest to my stomach.

 Jim kissed my stomach before looked back up at me. There was something in the way he was looking at me. A look I’d seen before. And then he said something that I didn’t believe I’d hear him say since the first time.

                “I want to try for a child again.”

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