Brewing Betrayal

The dark night was sweet and full of love, with peaceful rain drops falling against the rooftop of a rich, contemporary house. A vibrant, red-haired woman rushed out of the rain through the front door, silently locking it behind her.

"Loralie darling," a deep voice called from the shadows. "You've come at last. I thought you had decided not to come."

She chuckled to herself, head shaking ever so slightly. "Now why would I do that?"

Loralie made her way past the man, her high stiletto heels clicking against the marble floor. Her skin tight dress hugged her curves, yet managed not to hinder her in any way.

"I brought drinks," she stated while filling two crystal glasses.

"Oh, what kind of drink," he asked, reaching for a glass. Loralie slapped his hand away.

"Tristan," she shrieked. "You mustn't touch. They aren't ready." Lifting a tiny glass bottle, Loralie winked, "I thought I'd spice them up a bit."

Tristan beamed after receiving his glass, and led his love to the low-seated sofa where they settled in. Soon after, he took a delighted sip from his glass.

The cool beverage covered his taste buds with a sweet coffee flavor, which he savored. A second sip was hastily made. Loralie looked at him, smiling with sad eyes.

"What do you think?"

"It's delightful. Refreshing and —", several coughs interrupted him. Taking another big gulp, Tristan apologized. "Just dry mouth. What drink is this?"

Sweat beaded his forehead as Loralie replied slowly. "It's Tim Hortons new cold brew. I thought you should try something new for your last hour."

Panic began setting in as his throat began to close. Tristan wheezed and coughed, begging his tired lungs to bring in air. A sharp headache swelled so fast that his vision began spinning. Dropping his glass, a muted shatter echoed as it toppled to the ground, staining the grey carpet with its contents.

Loralie glared at him. "Are you trying to leave me a big mess to clean? I already have you to deal with."

Tristan longed to ask the overwhelming questions that tore at his mind, but only an excruciating moan came. Everything in him burned with desire to let go, but he refused to die just yet.

"I don't do this without reason Darling," Loralie insisted, seemingly reading his mind. "My husband was starting to get suspicious of us, and you know what will happen then. As soon as he confirms our affair, nothing will stop him from hunting you. I distinctly remember him torturing the last ones until their bodies gave into death. This is why I've poisoned you."

She paused to gaze at him. A small sob broke through as he began to shake violently. "Please don't hate me My Love. I'm incredibly fond of you. Consider this a mercy."

Betrayal flashed across Tristan's face, and, for what felt like years, his heart slowly gave away.

Sliding his eyes closed, Loralie bowed her head. "Rest well, My Darling."