Uncontrollable Urges (Part 1)

Sometimes who we love is not a choice.

Sometimes it is a gutrenching, saddle of guilt that we hide from our husbands and families. For them to find out would open and expose our wounds to uncaring, judgmental eyes.

Kate Worth feels that guilt. She has lived with it every single, torturous day of her married life. She tells herself that she should not love another, tells herself she will never be free. And so she lives her day- every one of her days, going through every motion that she has learned since the “I Do’s.”

Kate is not a bad person. She is not a deceitful person. Kate is a person hurting so bad inside, that there is no help. There is no end. She wishes she could cut out the part of her that loves another. Cast it aside and call it names, bad horrible names. But she knows, you can’t cut out love. It belongs with you, like the dark and wind belong to a fall night.

Kate’s eyes were set straight ahead, out the window.  She tapped her pencil on the table. Mindless tapping. She wasn’t even thinking of anything in particular.  But, she knew, soon he would be down.  He would see her tapping her pencil and wonder if she had anything better to do, he’d even tell her so.

Usually, she just let him have his words with her. It was better that way to just listen. He would be gone soon enough, out the door to work.

Stiffly and silently with her spine straight, head held even, Kate got up from her chair, soundlessly pushed it back and waited for him to come. Her face was void of expression, as it always was around him. Her “safe face” she called it.

No one knew what a controlling bastard he was. A fucking, goddamn, controlling bastard. Kate’s heart raced when she thought about how much she hated him. But guilt was a horrible thing when you were in love with someone else. It made you do things you normally wouldn’t do. It made you endure things you would never endure.

So that is why Kate was standing when he came through the kitchen entryway. She also knew, she had to be standing when he came through or he wouldn’t give her the key’s to use the car that day. It was a horrible game he played with her, and it had been going on nearly every day of their 5 year marriage.

“Ah, I see you’re ready for your day,” he said, bending to kiss her lightly on the cheek. She felt the rub of his cheek pull from hers. She smelled his aftershave. Familiar…and hated.

Kate didn’t say a word. She knew not to. Not because he wouldn’t allow it, but only because it was easier this way.

She had made the coffee to his exact specifications. And that’s what they were, specifications.  It was a ritual she followed daily. Some would think she would just do it on auto, getting used to it. But not Kate, she hated it. Everyday, she was mindful of every scoop she put in, leveling it off with a knife, careful not to put too much in. Mindful of using the correct measuring cups- the silver ones that were always cold to the touch; and filling them with the cold water required to make the best possible cup of coffee. And, like a good wife, she was mindful of the time she made it, so it wouldn’t be waiting in the pot for too long before he came downstairs. She would have used her fingers to sweep off any spilled grounds from the counter, but there were none. She was that good…or that mindful.


Still, with her spine straight and head held even, Kate listened to the swoosh of his footsteps as he walked over to the counter and grabbed the prefilled travel mug- the silver one, his favorite. His sport coat was already on, as was his overcoat. His briefcase was clutched in his hand. He stood there looking straight at Kate. He wanted to make sure she was dressed appropriately, as his wife should be dressing. It was a daily ritual with him. He started at her hair, quickly and coolly moving his eyes downward to stop at her shoes, then back up to meet her eyes.  She wondered what little, insignificant thing it would be today.

His head tilted slightly to the side, always in control.  “I think the longer black sweater would look better with those shoes. The one with the tie in the back. Don’t you agree.”  It wasn’t a question.  She knew the choices would come next. Except, with him, there really were no choices.  “Why don’t you change to the black sweater, or you can change your shoes to the brown low-heels.”

He gave a small, tight, thin controlling smile. The one he used only for her. If anyone ever saw it, they would never say anything.

Calmly and quietly, Kate answered, “Thank you, Peter. Thank you for helping me out.  You know I’m not very good at matching my colors.” 

As if his entire day depended on her answer, he asked, “Which will it be Katherine?  Are you changing the sweater or the shoes?”

“The sweater. The one you suggested, the longer black one with the tie in the back.  I will do that right away- After I see you off to work, of course.”

“Wonderful. I’m glad I can be of some help. You were never one for style, Katherine. I am fortunate enough to have a wife with such a lovely figure. You are looking a bit dark under the eyes though, but I’m sure with a little more cover-up, you will look young enough to be out and about today as my wife.”

Kate was expressionless. Well, all except for the smile she put on, just for him. But her eyes showed no expression at all, her body showed no expression.  How sad it was that she was actually proud of her “safe face.”

She walked him to the door and opened it for him since his hands were full. He bent down to her ear, she could hear his breathing. “The shoes, Katherine. Not the sweater. Change the shoes.” The whisper was in the same cool tone he used when making love. Kate gave a small nod, and shut the door behind him.

Quieter than the air around her, she walked back to her chair. Spine still straight, she sat down, grabbed her pencil, and started tapping it on the table. As an afterthought, she looked over to the spot where he usually put the keys for her. They weren’t there. She closed her eyes and let out a quick defeated breath. He didn’t leave her the keys. It was because of her choice. The sweater. She knew it, just as sure as she knew she loved another.


Three blocks away, Detective Matthew Calder sat in the back of the survellience van.  Equipment necessary to listen in on the Worth house laid out around him.

The tightness showed on his face and throughout his body. God, what am I doing here?  He ran a hand over his face as if to wash it, stopping at his eyes to rub deeply. Man, he was tired. Back-to-back assignments were once something he campaigned for.  Now, at 34, he had been worked steady and hard, devoting his life to the police force. He was always working. Never did he complain before, and he wouldn’t now. It’s just that this current case, the Worth’s, this one was going to be his undoing. And there wasn’t a soul he could tell about it. If he did, he would be off the case and assigned to another before he could blink.

Goddamn it, just keep her safe.

A quiet, patterned knocking on the side of the van told him that his partner was back with the coffee. And boy did he ever need it. Actually, something stronger would be great. God, what she does to me.  It was an ache inside that had never went away. He loved her the first time he saw her, and he loved her still. Over the years it had been easier to push those thoughts aside, but they always came back. Usually at night when it was quiet. Is it any wonder why he tried to work all the time?

Relationships were hard for him. For one thing, he was never home. The women he dated had to settle for caring for his plants instead of caring for him…and that only lasted so long. He never tried to stop them when they left either. Why would he? It wasn’t going to work anyway. There had always been one woman for him, and Kate was it.

Even though, in some small part of his mind, he knew she was married, Hell, he had been at the wedding. God, what a day that was.  Had she really moved on that quick?  Why else would she have married someone else? If she loved him, she would be with him- wasn’t that the way it worked?

His partner, Jimmy Ritzo, “Ritz” to everyone who knew him, handed Matt his coffee. “Black, just like the hole Peter Worth is going to be sucked down into.”

“Yeah, let’s just hope he doesn’t suck down his family along with him.”

Ritz started to pick up the headset, “What bit your ass, Calder?”

“Nothing. Just don’t marry a guy like him OK?”

“Very funny, asshole.  If we don’t get out of here soon, I’ll have to call Jenny and tell her I’ll be home late.”

“When are you going to make an honest woman out of her anyway?  She puts up with your schedule. Damn, she puts up with you, that’s reason enough.”

“Look, Calder, marriage is a whole different story. Besides, the more I work some of these cases, like the one here, the more I decide against it.”

“Yeah, what a prize Worth is, huh?”

“I wonder if he hits her?”

Not looking at Ritz, Matt’s anger built up again. The muscles in his jaw began to tighten.

Matt couldn’t get many words out, but he managed a couple, “Coffee’s hot.”