C1 Please don't go

The Atlantic blue 2000 Ford Mustang convertible drove through the ultra-luxury neighborhood. A soft pop-rock song played on the stereo. The driver, an elderly man in his sixties, donning the black chauffeur uniform stole a look at his young charge through the rearview mirror.

Five-year-old Sahara Beaumont, sat strapped in, reading a book.

"Are you okay back there little Miss Sahara?"

The girl nodded engrossed in her book of fairy tales. Sahara was sweet and kind and always had enough energy for ten little kids. The driver, Mr. Daniels, drove through the electric gate of the Beaumont mansion.

The girl looked out and her face lit up with excitement when she saw her father's white Chevrolet parked in front of the house.

She jumped out of the car no sooner had Mr. Daniels parked and ran into the house. She had not seen her father for over five months. He has been abroad for business and he had promised to bring for her a special gift when he returned.

''Little Miss Sahara, slow down,'' he called out but she was already inside the huge mansion. He chuckled and retrieved her bags from the back.

She hurried up the stairs and rushed to her parent's room, her ponytail bouncing up and down. She was just about to open the door when her mother's teary voice carried to her.

"Why are you doing this to me?" her mother Monique Shetty Williams asked, her voice broken and desperate. She was a simple, kind, loving stay-at-home housewife, who has sacrificed her well-being for her family.

"Why are you doing this to me, Clinton? Why Clinton? Why?'

Sahara opened the door slowly and peeped her head in. She saw her mother wipe away the tears from her face. Her father stood with his back to the door. Clinton Beaumont was a doting husband and father that was why it came as a shock to the little girl when she saw her mother crying and him, doing nothing.

''It's not you but me. Things just happened, Lydia and I never...''

''No. No don't you dare mention her name to me? Don't you dare, Clinton! If you say her name to me this will become real. I don't want this to be real. If you don't mention her name, it will all be but a bad nightmare.''

''I'm sorry.''

The young beauty who had both French and Indian blood flowing through her veins laughed through her tears and covered her face.'' Sorry? Sorry? You are breaking my heart and you tell me sorry? Fine. What about our daughter? What about her Clinton? Is she not working out too? What do I say to her?''

''We don't have to tell her immediately...' Clinton began quietly.

''Oh yeah, 'cause it's what's best for you right? You are a real bastard Clinton.''

''I'm just thinking of what's best for her.''

Monique dropped her hands to her sides and stared at him hopelessly. She pulled the sexy blue lacy lingerie closer to her. She wanted to die out of mortification. When he had called her five hours earlier as she dropped off her daughter at the preschool and told her he was coming home, she had gone to work on herself.

She had first gone to the spa and gotten herself a Brazilian wax. She had been dreamy. It was five months since she had felt the touch of his hands on her skin or his hot breath on her as he whispered sweet nothings. She wanted to make the most of it. The spa had provided her with the full package, manicure, pedicure, Brazilian wax, and hairdo.

As she had sat under the hairdryer, she had flipped through the spas lingerie magazine. She had picked on five sexy outfits. The midnight blue she wore as he broke her heart, being her favorite.

'What's best for her,'' she said in an icy voice,'' Is for her family to be whole. When did you intend to tell me?" Clinton kept quiet. He stared at the carpeted floor.'' God damn it, Clinton! At least have the decency, to be honest with me!! When the hell did you intend to tell me?''

"I was trying to find the appropriate time.''

'’How. Long?'' she bit out each word and walked over to him ever so slowly.

" She gave birth to our son yesterday.''

Monique slapped him across the face. The sound of the slap echoed off the walls.

Sahara gasped at the violent act before her. Tears welled up in the eyes of the little girl.

Monique forced her jelly-like feet to move away from him.

‘’I'm sorry...''

Monique turned sharply and began to hit him on the chest. Hot tears ran down her face. ‘’Bastard.. you are a bastard Clinton how could you do this to me ... to our daughter... how could you exchange us for another family...''She stepped away from him and sat on the edge of the bed hopeless.

She stared at him dispirited as his words sunk in. Clinton guiltily looked away.

'' Birth…she gave birth... How do you expect me to take the news? All those overseas trips, all those long months you were gone...''

He looked down, confirming her worst fears. An anguished sob escaped her mouth.

She walked over to her cream-white vanity and grabbed the white terry cloth robe draping over the stool to cover her nakedness. It didn't feel right to be standing clad in an outfit that could pass for her second skin in front of a man who just told her, he didn't love her anymore.

‘’Was I not ever a good wife to you? What did I fail you? Why did you have to go be with another woman when you had me?"

‘’I'm sorry.''

Monique let out a croaky chuckle. That again.

"Monique I..." Clinton began but before he could finish conveying his thoughts into a sentence, Monique charged at him and began to hit him on the chest as hot tears cascaded down her flawless face.

"I'm sorry...I’m really sorry..." Clinton mumbled. He stood there and let her hit him until she was exhausted. It was the least he could do.

Monica grabbed the family picture frame off the dressing mirror and hurled it at him. Guilt made him stand still and not want to dodge the flying missile.

The frame hit him on the forehead and almost instantly, blood gushed out from the wound as the frame fell to the ground and the glass shattered.'' I don't want your sorry. I want my husband back!''

Sahara screamed and ran in.

She went over to her sobbing mother and hugged her.'' Please stop fighting... mommy daddy please don't fight anymore,'' she begged, her little body shaking from the sobs.

Monique hugged her little girl as she cast her soon-to-be ex-husband a fiery, hateful look.

❦❦❦❦❦❦

Monique was seated in the lounge with a bottle of wine and a box of Kleenex for the company when she heard Clinton come down the stairs. He dragged two suitcases with him.

‘’I will go ahead,'' he said,''I will send Daniels for the rest of my things. The house; it's yours and Sahara's. It's in your name. I will keep paying for the bills and upkeep.''

Monique snorted.'' It's the least you can do. Don't expect me to roll over in gratitude.''

''No, of course not." He looked at her with a complicated look in his eyes." You are upset now, do you think it's right for you to be drinking in your state?"

"Oh, just go to hell Clinton. You lost the right to worry about me the moment you started screwing that bitch. Go live your life with that slut and bastard son.''

''Daddy?''

They both turned at the sound of their daughter. Monique stood up and went to her. She had earlier put her to bed and thought she had fallen asleep. Clinton went and knelt by her side.

"Daddy, don't go,'' she said. ' Stay with us. I promise I will be good."

"Princess...' he began, his heart breaking at the sight of his daughter.

"I will be really good. I promise I won't be any trouble to you. Don't go, stay with us please daddy.''

''Princess, this has nothing to do with you. You are a good girl. Someday, when you are all grown up, you will understand. Be strong and look after your mommy for me, okay?''

Sahara shook her head, tears rolling down her face. As Monique scoffed at him.

‘'No daddy don't go please don't leave us...''

A large lump settled on his throat. He blinked away the tears in his eyes. This was the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life. He kept berating himself for making his princess cry.

Even though he no longer had any feelings for Monique, his daughter, Sahara, was his world. The tears in his eyes slashed at his heart like a thousand razor-sharp knives.

"I am sorry princess, " he whispered as he pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. He stood up, got his suitcase and walked away.

Sahara ran after him calling out his name. The door closed on her, she hit on the door crying and begging him to not leave them.

"I will be a good girl, I promise daddy....." Sahara cried till her voice became hoarse and she passed out by the door.