torture

Richard never understood why Jules always insisted on seeing foreign films. She never seemed happy with their outcomes. They were all too sad, she would whine. Yet week after week, she would drag him to another one. To him the films made about as much sense as women. They were moody, boring and masked their true intentions behind the thin veil of sex.
Today’s film was especially tragic: Two lovers torn apart by the man’s attraction to Marie, a beautiful transvestite. The movie ended with Marie murdered by the man and the girl committing suicide.
The lights in the theater turned on, jarring several people awake. Rich eagerly hopped out of his seat. During the course of the movie he had downed 64 ounces of caffeine, which now demanded to be let out. He deftly maneuvered through the crowd, periodically glancing back to make sure that, yes, Jules was still struggling to keep up. They were out of the theater before the second line of credits rolled across the screen.
Once in the hall, he excused himself and went to the restroom. As he was washing his hands a familiar face walked in the door. He averted his eyes and pretended not to see, but alas, contact proved to be unavoidable.
“Hey Rich.”
“Hey Jimmy.”
“So… how are you?”
“I’m good. And you? What have you been up to?”
“Oh nothing”
There was a slight pause that seemed to stretch on towards eternity.
“I meant to call but I’ve been busy,” Jimmy said.
“It’s ok. I.. I… gotta run. Jules is waiting.”
One awkward situation gave way to another. Jules paced impatiently outside. She inquired what took him so long. He told her that he never questioned why she took so long. There was a pause and he guiltily changed the subject.
It wasn’t long before their conversation took its usual turn.
“That movie was sooooooooooo sad,” she said. “I hate sad movies.”
“What would you have done differently?” carefully tiptoeing around the idea that she had suggested this movie, and all the ‘sad’ movies before. That idea irked him a bit. It was like self-inflicted torture. But then again so was this.
“Well, I wouldn’t have had the transvestite at all. I would have kept the two lovers together.”
“So you would eliminate all the conflict. Sounds even more boring than usual.”
“I guess your right. I am just saying I would have liked a happier ending.”
He gazed off into the parking lot traffic. “Well, not everything turns out the way you’d like it.”
This effectively ended the conversation. They drove along in silence.
“Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Turn it around on me.”
“Aw, Jules, that’s not even fair. You’re the one who was talking about changing the movie. And anyways, you’re taking it all wrong. I meant you as in anyone.”
More silence followed. He concentrated on driving.
“Who was that guy that walked into the restroom just before you left? I’ve seen him around before, wasn’t he one of your friends?” she asked.
“I didn’t see anybody.”
He parked in her driveway and looked up at her house. No lights. He wondered if everyone was sleeping. If they were he could accidentally lean against the horn.
“You love me, don’t you?” she asked.
“You know I do,” he lied.
“My parents aren’t home. Do you want to come in?”
Not really. “Yes,” he said.
They rolled out of the car, walked up the steps, and into the house. The closed the door and hid from the world what was inside.