Chapter 4- Sweet Revenge?

            The next night, I had become Mrs. Charles Miller, and three months later, I had become a widow. I never realized what a big commitment marriage really is. I mean, I made the most stupid decision I could ever make in my life. I never realized how much freedom you had when you were single; the only person you had to look out for was yourself.

            The night of the marriage, I barely remember. It's all jumbled up like a nightmare that has no reality or reason. Till this day, I only know bits and pieces of that night; especially with the surreal moment when I said, "I do." We married at one of those cheesy chapels of love, you know, like those ones you see in movies, where the couple is drunk and they decide to get married. Except, I wasn't drunk, which is pretty sad.  I remember coming home, announcing to everyone that Charlie and I had gotten engaged, and I remember seeing the disappointment in my mom's face. Here was there seemingly perfect daughter getting engaged to a person they have never met before, but I acted like I truly did love him. Bullshit. My dad though, my dad could care less. He never really cared, he was always at his job, never paying me one ounce of attention, only showing his love through money, not affection.  He was glad, I guess, I married a guy with money. That's all that matters in his eyes.

            I recollect stopping by JC's house, and the shock inscribed on his face. He gave me his blessings; but I know that he knew what was going on deep inside, and he just chose to ignore it. I even remember Melody whispering in my ear, "Now we're sisters, huh, Brooke?"

Damn it. She was actually happy for us.

            And then came the wedding night. I know what it's supposed to be about. Sex. I didn't want to have sex with Charlie. I mean, despite me going out with so many guys, I am a virgin. I want to save it for a guy who really deserves it. I feel sorry for Charlie, I mean I remember him trying to move on me, and I screamed, "Don't you dare touch me, Charlie, or I'll fucking kill you. Don't touch me!"

            So, Charlie spent his wedding night in an armchair.

            There's one thing you really need to know about Charlie Miller. He is extremely patient. He deals with all my bullshit so well, he even responds to it in kindness. He's weak, though. Whatever I want, he is sure to give it to me. He really wanted this to work, though I don't know why.

            Oh, I regret it all now. I would give anything to undo this, to undo this knot of trouble that I had just caused. I wish I could be free of Charlie, and back in my pent house estate in Maryland. I was the only one to blame. Mom had tried to stop this from happening, but I just wouldn't listen. I convinced her that I really did love Charlie, and that's why I couldn't  just divorce him. I hate lying to my mom, and I really wanted her to believe that this was the man of my dreams.

            Charlie left for Iraq about two weeks after our marriage, and I received letters from him every week. He was a good man, and three months rolled around, and I got a letter from his colonel. Charlie was dead. He had tripped over a land mine, and just like that, he was gone from the face of the earth.

            I had fallen into a terrible depression. I had made Charlie's last few weeks that he was alive a complete and utter hell.  He deserved better then me. He deserved to be with Christina. I am a bitch. I vowed that I would never let myself hurt a man again. I wouldn't date, at least not for a while. I was going to give Charlie at least a little respect, I couldn't just go off dating again like I had once done, what seems like so many years ago.

            I stayed with my parents for a little while. I was a prisoner in my own room, only coming down for food. I cried, and I cried. I, Brooke O'Neil, am a widow at just the age of fucking twenty-four! I cried for using Charlie, and now he's gone. Gone. Forever. Without truly having someone who loved him back. 

            I still loved JC. Despite everything, there's still a part of me that longs to have him as my own. He was always with Melody, never letting go of her hand. I want to be Melody, oh what I would give to be Melody. They even bought a house up in New York City, where Melody said she always wanted to go because of the bustling city life.

            Anyway, my mom was getting worried. I would lock myself in my room, and I would lay down on my bed morosely, barely moving at all. I tried to act happy for my mom's sake, I mean she's my rock, but nothing would work. We tried shopping sprees, clubbing, and going to the spa. Nothing could get me out of my funk. She then heard from a friend that maybe a change of scene would do me good. She opened the door to my room, and quietly called out, "Brooke, is it okay if I come in?"

            "Yeah... whatever." I replied from my bed.

            "Brooke, you need to get out of this house. All you've been doing for about a month is sulk around, you need to get out. Now I heard JC-"my ears perked up at the sound of his name. "-he's going out on tour with the rest of the guys, and Melody is pretty lonely all by herself in that huge-"

            I waved my hand to silence her. "No, if you think I'm going to live with Melody, then you're psycho."

            "Think about it Brooke. New York City. I don't know why you hate that Melody girl, I mean she is the sister of Charlie. She's a nice kid, Brooke." My mom pointed out.

            "No." I simply replied.

            My mom sighed. "Just think about it, okay Brooke?"

            "Yeah, fine, whatever." I mumbled.

            I did actually think about it. I called my mom back to my room. As soon as she entered, I told her that I wanted to go. She smiled and grabbed my suitcase. I packed as many clothes as I could into about seven suitcases, packed my purse, and grabbed my credit card. Mom was right, I had to get out of here. Maryland is full of too many memories, and at this point, any change is welcome.