Empty Gold

Chapter Two:

Clayton was awake by five am. He couldn't sleep, rolling out of bed. It was hot, he wanted coffee, but Clayton knew that it would just make it worse.

He checked his phone. No calls or texts from anyone.

Clayton decided to go for a run, he needed a new outlet, since he had promised Alice that he would cut down on the drinking, the cigarettes and no more casual sex.....obviously.

He grabbed his shorts and a light shirt, running out the door and down the street.

He got to the local market, his mind was buzzing as Midnight oil sang through the earpieces from Danny's iPod, that Clayton gracefully borrowed before he left the United States.

Clayton continued to run, hoping his mind would clear.

By six am, the smell of spices and fresh bread made his stomach rumble, then all he could think about was food as he was covered in sweat, the humidity annoying him.

He stopped, using his poor Portuguese to order piri piri chicken with hand cut potatoes fries and a cold brew coffee.

As he sat in the sun, eating his lunch. Clayton heard the large church bells ring in the distance. He found it soothing, almost peaceful - but not enough for him to attend.

Taking in more of his surroundings, he noticed the families' around him and since he met Alice, he was actually seeing himself becoming a father, hopefully soon after the wedding.

Then his mind drifted to his ex-wives: Erika and Brianna.

How it would have been different if he wasn't on deployment for most of the two marriages. Instead he was actually there for them, having a family and being the perfect husband, maybe even a faithful one.

Clayton loved shallow women, he enjoyed sex, the brainless chase. The looser the women, the better. He loved that women, no matter who they were or where they came from, - they always were drawn to him like moths to a flame.

His mind turned to Alaia and Queenie, the "waitresses" from New York, Starr, the brief fling from Edgartown, Olivia, Kennedy and the three Madisons from the bars, Abby, the talkative coffee girl, Lauren, the snobby journalist from Belmont and then finally Martha, the married housewife who kept his bed warm before his sweet Alice

They all still called him from time to time, send him provocative photos, but to void Alice's jealous nature, he lets them go to voicemail and deletes the pictures.

What a fucking man-whore, Clayton thought to himself, trying to ignore the list of women he'd slept with in just the last year alone.

He is changing. No more strippers. No more whores. The green-eyed, brunette nymph has eclipsed all others...this is new territory his subconscious murmured, looking up from his Relationships for Dummies manual.

A dark smog of a cloud came over him, he popped the last bit of the fries into his mouth and finished off his bitter coffee, now dripping with condensation.

He headed off towards home, trying to run off those really bad thoughts.

When he arrived, sweat consumed him as he walked up the stairs. Clayton saw Samuel, sitting in the door way. He looked very hungover and by the state of him, he had a long night, possibly was in a fight or two,

"How's it Sam?" Clayton said, opening the door, welcoming the cool air from the house.

"Had a big night. Jack is in town. I saw Vanessa last night....they have been asking for you."