Black Diaries

23. Winning

If, by the end of our honeymoon, the hotel manager still didn't know what a bridal suite was supposed to be used for, it definitely wasn't our fault. Chuck and I certainly provided plenty of instruction material, clearly audible even through the walls of the hotel. And our bliss most certainly didn't end when the honeymoon was over and he had moved in with me. Chuck and I had the happiest marriage imaginable: we lived in a dilapidated old basement, beat the crap out of each other daily, and he made friends with my cat. What more could you ask for in life?

Well, awesome sex, maybe. But we had that, too, so that wasn't a problem. Not at all.

If I'd needed any proof that we were real partners in life, it came along three months after our marriage, when spring was just beginning to turn into summer, and the buds on the trees in Central Park were starting to open.

"Here," Chuck said to me at breakfast one morning, sliding a brochure across the table towards me. It resembled the last one he'd shown me, only the buff guy on this one was wearing a loose white shirt and trousers, and a black belt that spoke volumes.

"'Annual Griffin Gym Karate Tournament'," I read the caption, then looked up.

"The Griffin Gym is one of the biggest in New York," Chuck explained, his eyes gleaming. "And their karate competition isn't far behind. People come from all over New York State, and even from outside. Winning there would be really something."

"You want to compete?"

"No. I thought we'd both compete."

I spewed coffee all over the table. "E-excuse me?" I coughed.

Calm down! I told myself. He's just joking. He has to be!

"There, you see?" Opening the brochure, he pointed to a page from which an intimidating dominatrix in karate outfit was glaring up at me, intent on smashing her printed foot into my face. A speech bubble right next to her proclaimed "Hi-yah!"

Okay... so maybe he wasn't joking.

Carefully putting down the cup with the remains of my morning coffee, I tried desperately to think of a way out of this.

"Um... well... I'm not really sure whether I'm good enough for that."

"Are you joking?" Completely ignoring the mess I had made on the table, Chuck got up and walked around towards me, taking my hand. "You're awesome, Cassy! Hell, you beat me one out of four times!"

"And the other three times you kick the crap out of me," I pointed out.

"And I'm twice your size and a trained professional! Trust me, Cassy." Kneeling down in front of me, he took my hand. "You can do this, my wild animal. You're the strongest woman I've ever met. There's nobody I'd rather have fighting at my side than you."

After that, what could I say?

❤☠❤☠❤☠❤

"Oh God no, no, no!" Covering my sweaty face with both hands, I let out a tortured moan. Beyond the safe barrier of my hands. The pair currently fighting was crying out "Hai!" and "Hi-yah!" I shook my head. "I should never had let him talk me into this!"

"Well then, why did you?" My fan club, aka Jill, was lounging on the bench to my left. Lucky, my official trainer, sat on the other side, examining her front paws. "I mean, it's not like a marriage proposal. You can probably say no to a karate tournament without crushing a man's fragile heart forever."

"Not the way he put it!" I groaned it. "He said all this sweet stuff about me being his partner, and being perfect and strong... and... and I just couldn't! I couldn't disappoint him."