- Books, Literature, and Writing
CONCLUSION OF GINNY...
GINNY... by b. Malin
GINNY...THE FINAL CHAPTER
Exactly one week later he did call, and they spoke on the phone for about half an hour. He told her that they would be together the following week. Ginny hung up the phone feeling flattered and confused.
Now it had all happened. It was over, done, finished, and all she felt was humiliation and sadness at what she had done. In ten years of marriage, she had never, even felt the slightest temptation to have an affair...so why now?
Ginny cleared her throat, she felt she had to say something in defense of herself. She sat up slowly pulling the bed sheet up to her neck. She asked if they could "talk" for a moment. Marc looked uncomfortable as he checked his watch. "I've got a patient due in the office at one, I can only spare a few more minutes" he said, as he sat down in the chair and lit another cigarette. Ginny studied his features as he exhaled the smoke through his nose. He was still strikingly handsome to her, but funny, she'd never noticed that cold distant look in his eyes before. Once again she cleared her throat and said, "I want you to know that I have never done anything like this before...and I doubt that I will ever do this again". Her voice sounded strong and confident.
"You don't owe me any explanation" he said cooly. "I wanted you the moment I saw you come into my office, and you must have felt the same, or we both would not be here now". He stood up and Ginny could feel that he was dismissing her. "Would you like to walk me downstairs to the door?" He said softly. Ginny shook her head for she felt if she tried to talk, the tears would just start to flow again. He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll call you" he said. But both of them knew that wasn't going to happen. As he walked to the doorway, he turned to look back at her. "Would you like me to open the curtains" he said nodding his head in that direction. "No!" she almost shouted. She knew she looked a mess. "Ok" he sighed, "I'll be letting myself out now...why don't you take a nap, you'll feel better when you wake up."
Ginny lay back and closed her eyes. She felt a few more hot tears flow down her cheeks as she heard him go down the stairs and a few seconds later, the front door gently closing behind him. Suddenly she was so tired. Paul's dark handsome features flashed past her. "Oh forgive me Paul" she sighed, "I was lonely, so lonely all those moves, so many moves." Her mind and body were now drifting into sleep, sweet dark sleep.
How long she was asleep, she could not tell...Minutes, hours? Suddenly the room was sunshine bright, and someone was gently shaking her gently and softly calling out her name. She wanted to go back into that dark, quiet, sleep world again. She was so tired and the brightness of the room hurt her eyes.
"Ginny, Ginny", the familiar voice said, "wake up!" Her eyes hurt as she shielded them from the light with both hands. It was her mother calling her name. Where was she? Her eyes scanned the room quickly. It was a big room with bright yellow curtains which had been pulled back to let the daylight in. This was her old bedroom, the one she'd grown up in, with the light purple walls, but what was she doing there now?
Her mother sat down on the bed next to her. "Ginny, you've got to get up now dear," she said gently. Have you forgotten what today is? It's your WEDDING DAY!" She said smiling down at her. "I told Paul not to keep you out too late last night, partying and all...You young lady have one hell of a HANGOVER, shame on you" she said laughing softly.
"My WEDDING DAY?" Ginny murmured sounding confused. "How old am I Mom?" "Oh Ginny, you're twenty-two, and you're going to be a Bride today...and in spite of this hangover...you will be a beautiful bride, my beautiful daughter." "Mom, I've got to ask you something..."Later Ginny, now get up and get into a shower, you've only got two hours to go."
Ginny showered, put on her robe and went down stairs to the kitchen where her father sat reading the morning paper. He looked up and smiled at her. "you look beautiful today Ginny, so fresh and young and lovely. May you always look this way and be happy my child." He cleared his throat and Ginny thought she saw tears behind his glasses. She ate a light breakfast, hugged her father around the neck and then went upstairs to dress.
Her mother came into the bedroom as Ginny was slipping her wedding dress on. "Here, let me help you" she said. When they were done with the buttons and zipper, they both stared at Ginny's reflection in the full length mirror. She did look beautiful. "Oh Ginny, I'm so happy for you!" Ginny turned to look at her mother who had tears in her eyes.
"Mom, mom, please listen to me for a minute...I need to know if dreams come true...can you foresee your own future in a dream?" The mother stared at her beautiful daughter's unlined face. "No one can foresee what their future will bring...we all have our hopes, and dreams, some come true, some don't. There are some disappointments in life and lots of adjustments, laughter and tears, and above all forgiveness...it all makes for a good marriage. Why do you ask?"
Ginny spoke, "I think I saw my future last night in a nightmare of a dream, and I don't want it to be that way Mom." "Then it won't be darling, for you have the upper hand now." She winked at her daughter as they embraced one another.
The wedding went picture perfect. Ginny was beautiful and Paul was handsome. The reception was fun, more fun than Ginny could have imagined.
Ginny and Paul were dancing the last dance when someone came up behind her. Paul let out a yell of surprise. "Marc, Marc Sanders, you son of a gun, you made it here after all!'"
Ginny slowly turned around and gasped. "Ginny," Paul was saying, "I'd like you to meet my old college buddy Marc Sanders, a real lady killer, ha, ha. He will be opening a practice here in town, I just didn't know when he was arriving. Isn't this a great wedding present?"
A cold shiver went through Ginny's whole body as she and Marc shook hands.
This story and all it's contents belong to me, the author, b. Malin