When Love Is Not Enough

By D. S. Brown

Lawrence Chelton loved hard, but at the same time it was all soft, deep, and lasting, filled with a belief that soul mates really do exist. He would do anything for the woman he loved. He was tender, caring, strong, and protective. He knew how to stand and be the man a good woman would truly wantor so he believed. When the woman he loved left him at the altar, he changed. He lost his belief in love. He lost his respect for women. He lost his ability to be decent, to be a good man. He no longer believed love was enough. He didnt know what was enough, what was life-fulfilling. However, after the altar, he felt it was only right to take advantage of as many women as possible in a depraved attempt to find the truth. To him, they deserved nothing but his contempt.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504973311

D. S. Brown

DS Brown is a native of Atlanta, Georgia and a true Southern Gentleman, with a passion for the written word. He’s written over eight books covering everything from critical thinking and President Obama to super heroes and space operas. It is his sincerest desire that you find something satisfying in the pages he produces. If you find favor with his work, email him at [e-mail]. He would love to hear from you.

Book preview

WHEN LOVE

IS NOT

ENOUGH

BY:

D.S. BROWN

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2016 D. S. Brown. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/16/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7332-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7331-1 (e)

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

PROLOGUE

PART ONE     Unfulfilled

CHAPTER ONE     A Sweet Beginning

CHAPTER TWO     In the Heat Of The Moment

CHAPTER THREE     Recriminations

CHAPTER FOUR     A Chance Meeting On The Yard

CHAPTER FIVE     A Moment At The Wall

CHAPTER SIX     Deeper And Deeper Still

CHAPTER SEVEN     That’s Just the Way It Is

CHAPTER EIGHT     Rationing

CHAPTER NINE     Death In The Family

CHAPTER TEN     All My Life

CHAPTER ELEVEN     Descent

CHAPTER TWELVE     Back From the Precipice

PART TWO     Up From The Abyss

CHAPTER ONE     The Dark Place

CHAPTER TWO     And In the Beginning

CHAPTER THREE     Mr. Ollie’s Opus

CHAPTER FOUR     Anger Comparisons Cookouts

CHAPTER FIVE     Manhood

CHAPTER SIX     Back From the Bottom

CHAPTER SEVEN     Excise

PREVIEW OF …  LOVE IS ENOUGH

CHAPTER ONE     Revisited

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

now what’s left of me

nothing

I... am... nothing

make of me what you will

for quite literally

I no longer count

not even in a child’s eye

                  D.S.Brown

This book is dedicated to the good guys.

To those men who had hard times,

and still managed to do it the right way,

but still lost in the end.

Maintain men, there is light

at the end of the tunnel.

PROLOGUE

The moon glowed alluringly over Clayton County, clear and bright. The strongest of the stars lent their glory to the moon’s symphony, a silent song played by the heavens. It was a summer’s night, one that could conjure up worlds of magic, thoughts of lust and desire. It was the kind of night ripe for lovers.

Lawrence Chelton sat in his sport utility vehicle in the moon-made shadow of the neighborhood’s tallest oak. On a night when many found reason to celebrate love, Lawrence was trying his best not to celebrate rage. He could see it. It was red, a bright red thing, just behind his eyes. He imagined himself with a gun, a knife, a bat, his bare fists. He imagined himself shooting, stabbing, gutting, hitting, killing, all in a vain effort to drown out the hurt. For he knew no matter how much harm he did, none of it would take away the gut wrenching pain he felt inside, and so action remained relegated to the arena of his tortured imagination.

His heart had been torn asunder. His soul was suffering. His joyous love, which was like a raw open thing unabashed and unashamed, had been struck a mortal blow. Lawrence felt soiled, soiled by foul betrayal. His was a love denied … for the second time. The writing had oh-so-strongly been on the wall, a phrase that was a metaphor for what could only have been his blind ambition. It was the only way he could explain it. Deep inside he had known it was coming to this. His friends had intimated as much, but he had not believed, he could not.

When true love is all you want, all you feel you need, a desire that burns as bright as the noonday sun, you can’t be expected to see what’s happening on the sidelines. The object of your affection can blot out any-and-all distractions, even the slightest of contradictions; hers is absolute. When something so strong is betrayed, the sun sets on love. Like the blackest night it descends behind the heaviest of curtains. All is done, love is swallowed in a nimbus, and at the center something red, hard, and terrible begins to stir.

Lawrence gripped the steering wheel of his Mitsubishi Montero. The muscles around his brown knuckles flexed. The skin of his fist faded to white under the sheer pressure. His anger was a palpable thing, consuming the air inside his SUV. Yet, he still hadn’t uttered a word. It was long in coming.

Damn, he whispered through clenched teeth, stirring, struggling to hold back his tears.

Damn.

It was the only thing he could say, the only thing he dared say. He truly feared the possibility of stronger, harsher words driving the growing Red within him, pushing him to action, and unleashing the images in his mind. He frowned ominously, slowly shaking his head from side to side. He knew if he stepped one foot outside his truck, he would disgorge chaos on Brightling Lane. He felt his anger was strong enough to topple the house at which he now stared. He didn’t want to even begin to contemplate what he would do to the people inside.

She had told him she would be home alone studying. She had said she would be there for at least an hour or so, alone. Then later, she was going to meet up with her study group. Lawrence knew the people who comprised her study group, two boys, and two girls. One of the boys was Torrance. Adina said they were good friends. He had helped her through some rough times in their pre-med curriculum. However, over the past year Lawrence had become more suspicious of their relationship.

As of late it seemed as though she was spending more time with her study group than she was with him. It was either school, or something school related, like her steadily escalating duties in the Delta Xi sorority. He never questioned her or her priorities. Trust was implicit. Everything they did was supposed to strengthen their future together. Some things were social—the more educational tasks would benefit the financial. Lawrence could be a patient man, especially when the future seemed so bright.

But brightness had given way to darkness.

Whispers among his friends and echoing images of things he had seen, and heard, when he supposedly wasn’t paying attention, had pushed him to do this. His home was off Cascade Road in Southwest Atlanta. To visit his fiancé he had to drive almost thirty miles. It was a voyage he undertook almost everyday. He was proud to do it. Admittedly, things were easier when he was living in the house with her, but her recent request that he move back home, provide her with a little space before they make it permanent was not unreasonable, not when they intended to spend the rest of their lives together.

So here he was in Clayton County, Rex Georgia, thirty miles outside the metro area, thirty miles from home. He had tried to convince himself he was coming over unannounced to see if she would like to grab a bite to eat before going to her study group. He had tried. Unfortunately, the lie couldn’t drown out the truth. He had wanted to know, to see for himself. He had doubted. He doubted no longer.

Lawrence looked at the Honda Civic parked in the driveway of the house he had called home, parked right behind Adina’s Accord. He looked at the large window in the front of the house. The drapes were drawn, but the lights were on. The shadows of two people played about on the curtains. The two figures had just finished pillow fighting, or that was the way it looked to Lawrence. Now, they were engaged in an embrace. Their shadowy heads were pressed together.

There was no doubt in Lawrence’s mind. His future wife-to-be was passionately, hungrily, voraciously, kissing another man. She was kissing Torrance. He watched, and watched, and watched, as they continued to devour each other. The seconds dragged into minutes. Then, he saw something else. The shadows were groping at each other, pulling at each other. They were removing each other’s clothes.

Lawrence shut his eyes. He leaned his head back against the headrest and tried to keep his bottom lip from quivering. A tear escaped him.

Why? He mouthed the word silently.

He didn’t understand. To him, it simply made no sense. Love wasn’t supposed to be this way. Never in his worst nightmares had he imagined it might come to this.

PART ONE

Unfulfilled

CHAPTER ONE

A Sweet Beginning

It’s been often said that life at the University Of Georgia is one big party. In 1994 this assertion was true for more than just a few of the people Lawrence knew, like Robert, his fraternity brother and childhood friend, who considered the institution of higher learning an experiment in hedonism.

Lawrence Chelton was quite different. He was exceedingly intelligent and had the capability to manage his schoolwork in the face of tremendous distraction, in which the fraternity specialized. He took the time to party, but not too often. There was a time and place for such things. One was allowed to have fun, even on the spur of the moment, like when you’re supposed to be studying but someone comes by and insists you go to the club for just two hours, and two hours only. Lawrence made time to enjoy himself, but realized his fun had to be tempered, balanced with his goal of obtaining a degree.

There was a saying in his frat, man must learn the means of balance, for only by balance do we achieve our goals, and at the same time enjoy the varied and bountiful spices of life. Unfortunately, this wasn’t said often enough.

It was an ordinary school morning, the same as any other. Lawrence was sitting at a table beside the snack counter inside the Tate Student Center. People gathered there daily to relax, protest this or that, support their organization, or just see and be seen. He had his chemistry book open and was going over a few notes before class. He was the only one studying among the people that surrounded him, all of whom were African-American. At the predominately White university Lawrence always thought it funny how a small group of black kids took over a particular corner of the Center almost daily, as though they had staked a claim.

He took a break from studying to look at the people as they passed. They were white, black, yellow, red, and olive, all in various tones and shades. Their minor separation in color seemed to be less than an afterthought. No one really noticed. They were mixing and mingling color among color, but in his particular corner they were mostly the same, black.

Lawrence yawned, rubbing his eyes. He had been up studying most of the night. He leaned back in his chair and looked at all the people sitting at the tables around him. Most of them were members of fraternities or sororities. And those who weren’t members were probably interested in joining. They were called wannabees by the Greek community. Lawrence shook his head and smiled. His thoughts had shifted. He was supposed to be concentrating on covalent bonds instead of people-watching. He took a deep breath and was just about to get back to studying when someone caught his eye.

He looked up.

He wondered how he had missed her coming in. She was sitting at a table not too far from him. She wore a signature red and cream jacket, which meant she was a Kappa. And she was beautiful. At first he thought he had seen her before. Then, he wasn’t so sure.

No, he didn’t know her. He thought he knew all the Kappas. If he did know her, he certainly couldn’t remember her name. Just then a group of them, who had been sitting nearby, got up and walked over to her table. They all hugged, laughing, smiling, talking about this and that. Lawrence could just barely make out what they were saying.

Girl, why are you sitting way over here by yourself? Asked one of her friends.

She shook her head. I can’t be over there messin’ around with all y’all. I have to study.

Another girl chuckled. Diana, if you have to study don’t you think you should go to the lounge?

Diana smiled, sheepishly. Well, I still want to be close, in the mix. Somebody has to keep an eye on things.

They all laughed. Part of the social interaction at the tables was women checking out men, and most especially men checking out women, close up, from afar, or in mixed company. Just then, two guys began walking over to her table. Lawrence continued to watch, wondering which girls they were going to try to talk to.

What the hell are you staring at? Asked a voice next to him.

Lawrence sighed as he slowly turned, recognizing the face staring back at him with a crooked grin. It was Robert. The smell of marijuana was all over him and it wasn’t even ten-thirty.

Robert pushed his face close. I said, what the hell are you starin’ at … nigga?

Lawrence pushed him back. Man, get the hell out of my face. You reek.

Like hell, Robert laughed. That’s the sweet smell of nature.

That’s the stank smell of dank, Lawrence said.

Dank makes me high, that’s how I fly, it’s my reason, my why, and it keeps the teacher’s words in my eye. Robert grinned. You see that? It rhymed. I’m a rapper, dog.

Lawrence shook his head. No, you’re stupid.

Robert waved him off. Anyway. For real, bruh, I see you lookin’ over at the Dirty-Reds.

Just one, bruh. Just one.

Shorty that’s in the middle, right?

How’d you know?

Robert laughed. Just guessed. Besides, I know you.

Whatever. Anyway, she is the one I’m looking at. What’s her name?

Robert looked at Lawrence and shook his head, frowning. You don’t get out enough. You don’t know the Reds?

I know most of them.

But you don’t know that one.

Whatever. Look, what’s her name?

It’s Diana.

Diana, Lawrence said. He still couldn’t remember for sure if he had met her. And did it matter? No, it didn’t. I’m out as much as I need to be, Robert.

But if you hung out more you’d already know who she is. You should have come to the last social. She was there. That shit was live!

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. It was like that?

"Not at first, but the later it got the better it got. The Reds wanted to be out, especially the neos. The older girls were trying to keep things cool, you know, but that didn’t last. By the time one o’clock rolled around it started popping off for real.

Lawrence just shook his head, knowing what was implied. The bruhs will be the bruhs, or for those that don’t understand, the brothers will be the brothers. Was Diana in it too? He asked.

Naw. She was too scared.

Scared?

Lemme tell you somethin’. As far as I’m concerned all the ho’s that left the party were scared, and she was one of ’em.

You my brother, are a fool.

Robert laughed. Tell me something I don’t know.

Lawrence turned his attention back to Diana’s table. The two guys who had stopped by were walking away. Her sorority sisters were laughing, apparently at the guys’ expense. They high-fived each other and started to leave. They were still laughing as they walked away, telling Diana they would talk to her later.

Diana remained at the table, alone.

She sat there for a moment, appearing introspective. She smiled, and pulled a book from her backpack, along with some notes. She was situating things on the table when she happened to look up. The moment was quick, but memorable. Their eyes met. She smiled. Lawrence smiled back. She looked back down at her notes, focused as though they were the most important thing in the world.

Lawrence began packing. Look, he said to Robert excitedly. I’m going to go over there and talk at her.

Robert grinned. Do your thang.

Lawrence slung his backpack over his shoulder as he stood up. I most certainly will. He paused and looked down at his friend. Listen, are you going to class today?

Robert let a sanguine smile spread slowly across his face. I don’t think so. I just don’t think I can handle it.

Lawrence shook his head. Robert … forget it.

Robert laughed. Yeah, forget it. I’m a go back to the Mac and smoke this weed. You go to class and get to that learnin’. I’ll catch up to you later.

You know, you need to be doin’ some learnin’ yourself.

Nahh, I got all I need, already. This school shit’ll take care of itself.

Potluck?

Robert nodded. Potluck.

A resigned laugh escaped Lawrence’s lips as he walked away, a bitter laugh of regret that he couldn’t control. He was laughing at his friend, even as he tried to laugh with him. It wasn’t working, and it pained him to feel this way about a brother as close to him as if they shared the same blood.

How could a person graduate on potluck, which for Robert meant going to class high, and letting fate decide what grade he would get on a test? Lawrence knew when Robert and some of the other brothers went back to Macwhorter Hall, affectionately known as the Mac, they would have a smoking fest reminiscent of a Cheech & Chong movie.

There was no question they were smoking away their futures, but they didn’t seem to care. Fate could be precarious and potluck could win out, allowing them some success. But why take the chance? Weed was risk, and risk could mean failure. Tomorrow was too important to stupefy today, at least that’s how Lawrence felt about it.

Lawrence had shared his truth with them before. They thought it was so funny they almost threw up, and he couldn’t tell whether that was how they truly felt or if they were laughing so hard from the weed. Among them potluck prevailed, and convincing them to at least slowdown was like trying to convince carbon steel to bend with friendly words. It was impossible.

In his opinion they were all so immediate, living in the now, burning up scholarship money, grant money, aid money, nothing-to-middlin’ job money on the latest high and a smile. Lawrence had always known true life. In this he felt privileged. His hardships and familial suffering were traumatic, but he survived them. They made him strong, they made him prepared. The world wasn’t going to suddenly one-day slap him in the face.

Still, he could have a good time. He owed himself that much as a college student. Part of the experience was supposed to be fun. Of course, this meant knowing when to indulge, to partake of other things, tasting a portion of life’s more eccentric spices. The spices varied in flavor, some more exotic, some like a vice, harmful if done to excess. His preferred vice was women. Yet, he wasn’t all that much of a criminal. He got his fair share, eschewing study for possible pleasure. This adhered to the fraternity’s ethos on balance. He walked up to Diana and smiled.

How you doin’, sister? Lawrence asked.

She looked up from her notes. Hello, brother.

She got up and gave Lawrence a friendly hug. It was customary for the Kappa sisters to give the Gamma brothers a hug when they met. It had become something of a custom, which was meant to be indicative of the brother/sister relationship the two organizations shared.

My name is Lawrence.

Diana smiled. I know your name.

They both sat down, with Lawrence looking a little perplexed. And I know your name is Diana. I just don’t recall seeing you on the yard.

She shook her head, but continued to smile. You were at my neophyte show. Apparently, you don’t remember.

Lawrence looked perplexed. He definitely remembered being at the show when the current line of Kappas made their first official appearance to