Smell - A Short Story

He smelt like a day on the beach. He was standing next to me holding my hand with the familiar smell of his Cool Waters fresh in the air. I loved that smell; it reminded me of the first time we met.

 

I was waiting for a bus, and it seemed like forever before I would finally get one. The line in front of me just kept moving, but for some reason I never reached the entrance of the bus. I tapped the man in front of me asking for answers, but he just grunted and told me the last bus just left. That was when I smelt him. His smell lingered in the air and was a welcome distraction from my worries. He tapped me lightly and asked me if he could help me get onto the next bus. I was slightly apprehensive but accepted graciously. We talked in the bus. It seemed effortless, it seemed easy & my heart missed a beat when he asked me for my number. 

Today however my heart was racing. I just couldn’t believe my good fortune. I was going to spend my life with a man who I loved with all my heart. I was also a tad bit hesitant, what if things didn’t work out, would I then be a divorcee? But I guess thinking about these things is natural when you’re getting married. 

The priest asked the pertinent question, “Cynthia, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”“I do”, I replied. “Clement do you take this as woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” I do father, he said. “Then with God as my witness I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride”. Claps echoed across the church. This was the moment I was waiting for, to join my lips to his. I could live like that forever, stuck to his lips.

That night we made love, like it was our first time. He threw me onto the bed, slipped off my panties and with surgeons dexterity began working my clit. It was heaven. I was in heaven. There was nothing better. 

Clement used to work in a BPO, and his shifts would very often be erratic. Luckily for a while he was in the day shift. He’d come home, and I would run to kiss him on the lips. I would wait for the time to pass, so I could run towards the smell of his perfume laden with sweat. I loved that smell, it turned me on, and it was meant only for me. My responsibilities at home were to prepare the dishes, keep the house clean and make love to my adoring husband. It suited me just fine. 

But as days passed by the familiar notes of his cool waters began getting lighter. He smelt of a mixture of things these days. On some days I smelt cigarettes while on some I smelt alcohol and on most days, both. I brushed it off because my husband was stressed and sometimes vices took the edge of off life. But slowly I started smelling other women on him. The notes of his Davidoff had all but disappeared. They had been replaced by notes of Dior and Chanel. 

Then one day he walked in with a strong smell of booze and cigarettes. He held my hand firmly and took me to the bedroom. He barely said a word. He just quickly undressed me and in the middle of the act slowly started spanking me. At first it was exciting; until he thought of using his belt to do the deed. One day he cut me so hard with that belt that I couldn't walk for the next 3 days. I dreaded him coming back from work ever since then.

But he always came back and each night the lovemaking became even more extreme. He had become sadistic. He used to beat me up while on top of me and my tears only excited him all the more. Tears gave way to begging and begging gave way to acts of self-defense, but he was too strong and I was too disabled to do anything about it. 

I turned to the only source I could trust, God. It may sound corny but every hour I spent praying made me feel slightly better about myself. I would be humiliated each night only to pray in the morning and hope for a better night. 

Then one night, he walked in, but his smell was different, very different, almost metallic. He held me with both his arms and a warm liquid began pouring down my skin. It was blood and I was speechless. What had he done? He moved past me and entered the bedroom; I could see that he was packing his clothes. I stumbled forwards breathless only to trip and fall to the ground. I rolled and faced the ceiling. I was in despair, I couldn’t move & then something rested lightly on my nose. It smelled like money. 

I held my breath as he walked towards me and firmly picked me up. The smell of iron wrought in the air. He began dragging me towards the door. I was scared. I picked up the vase on the way and swung. It hit and split and all I heard was a thud and then silence. I slouched by the door, thinking, contemplating, wishing it wouldn’t come to this.  I began searching the floor till I found it. A knife so festered with blood its blade,hardly recognizable. With one swift move I cut the artery, but strangely felt no pain. I could only smell the blood that had now become a permanent part of my life. In the midst of it were notes of lost love and stronger notes of betrayal. I had to move fast to survive. I could hear the bells and whistles of the cop car as it swerved to meet us or should I say me. But meds, I needed my meds. I rushed into the bathroom, fished out my meds and washed my face,then I picked up a coat and the bag he brought home and left.

I don’t know what it was but I felt like I knew where I should be going. I stopped a cab, entered and told him the exact address. I walked up those all familiar steps reaching towards a door I knew was my own and on ringing the bell I smelt a fragrance which was my own. The light notes of Davidoff, the musky fragrance of a man I love. 

“What do you want”, he said. 

“Can I come in; this is my house after all”, I said.

“Are you out of your mind or did you forget to take your meds today”, he said.

 “I have them with me, see. I brought them along so you would know what a good girl I’ve been”, I said.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked.

“Never mind that, can I come in?” I said.

“Why would I allow the woman who married me and ran away with another man to come into my house?” he said.

“I ran away with you”, I said.

“Are you so blind you couldn’t see who you were eloping with?” he said.”

“Yes, but you knew that already didn’t you?”I said.

“Stop shitting me and leave this instant before I kick you out”, he said.

“Please kick me out, at least touch me. I need you please”, I begged. 

“Just get lost”, he said and began shutting the door. The bag fell from my hands and a few notes spread airborne. Seeing it, he stopped, “What are you doing with so much money?”

 “This money is for you honey, all for you”, I said. Clement opened the door wider to get a closer look. This was my only chance; I embraced him with all my might, and took in his fragrance. Renewed I started stroking his dick and felt him getting hard under his pants. Without saying a word I deftly planted kisses along his neck and unzipped him. Then I started stroking his dick and gently took it all into my mouth. That much was enough for Clement to pick me up and take me into the bedroom. He hadn’t had sex in a while and after a few scorching hours of extraordinary sex, we both slumped on each other and slept like babies. 

With the first rays of the sun, I snuggled closer to him. He was mine and I was his. His smell would stay with me forever, reinvigorating me, re energizing me. I sighed and slumped into his embrace and after what felt like hours, I released the pressure on his chest; The chest into which moments earlier, I had buried a knife.

Now his smell was all mine. All mine.