His car rumbles out of the driveway half an hour later to go get the kids. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. But I call Lola, just to make sure.
“Hey,” she answers. “Jesus, it’s pouring down.”
“I know.” I stare out the kitchen window to the rain blanketing the backyard. “Are you on your way to the school?”
“I’ve just parked. What’s up?”
“Can you check that Leo’s there?” I bite my thumbnail.
“Hmmm, oh, he’s just pulling in now actually. What’s he doing home?”
“Long story,” I mumble.
“Lia, what’s going on?” I look at the time, wondering if I can give her a quick rundown before the kids get out in two minutes. I decide to give it my best shot.
“He found me. He …” I squeeze my eyes shut. “He found me with Jared at The Green in Rayleigh.”
Silence. I hear the rain tapping on the roof of her car as I wait, opening my eyes as a tear escapes.
“You and Jared, you had sex?” she finally asks.
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “No, but we were about to.”
“Holy hell, Lia,” she whispers. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t.” My fingers tug at my hair as anxiety tears its way through my body.
“What happened?”
“He just came in, threw him off me, and then grabbed me and left. I was wearing a sheet, for Christ’s sake. Then he put me in his car … Mine’s still there.”
She exhales loudly into my ear. “How did he find you?”
“He probably hired someone. I didn’t think he cared …”
She laughs. “Well, apparently he does.”
I hear the bell ring in the background. “I’ll let you go. I just wanted to make sure he was picking them up.”
“Okay, call me if you need me, but Lia”—she sighs—“this is what you wanted, you know? I think it’s obvious now that he does still care.”
“But why show it in this way? Why wait until I potentially fuck everything up even worse to show me?” I groan. “Ugh, he’s fucked with my head too much. I have no idea where I even stand anymore.”
“Just … try to talk to him. One step at a time, ‘kay? Call me.”
“Okay, bye.” I hit end call and toss my phone onto the counter. Then stare at it for a minute before picking it back up and quickly sending a message to Jared.
Me: I’m so sorry.
He replies right away.
Jared: You okay?
Me: Fine. I’ll talk to you soon.
I exit the message, take my phone upstairs to charge it, and take a quick shower before the kids get home. Once under the hot water, I finally let it out. The sorrow, the fear, and the absolute horror of having my husband, the love of my life, walk in on me with another man.
After drying off and getting dressed in some pajama pants and a t-shirt, I come downstairs to the sound of the kids arguing.
“Hey.” I walk into the living room to find them playing tug-o-war with the remote. I walk over and gently remove their hands from it. “What’s going on?”
“I want the TV. Charlie always gets it when we get home from school.” Greta pouts.
Sighing, I take the remote with me as I leave the room. “Well, no one is watching anything until their homework is done, so come on, let’s do it.”
They both groan but follow me into the kitchen and get started while I unpack their bags then put their lunch boxes in the dishwasher.
“Where’s your father?” I ask, trying to act indifferent when inside, I feel like all my vital organs are twisting and knotting together.
“He’s gone back out,” Charlie says, chewing on the end of his pencil for a second, then pokes his tongue into his top lip as his eyes narrow intently at his sheet of math homework.
“Oh? Did he say where he was going?” I grab a knife and start cutting up some apples and oranges for them at the island.
Charlie shrugs. “Can’t remember.” He then scribbles something down on his paper while Greta watches me.
“He said he’s going to see his friend Jim.”
I pause mid cut. “Jim?” I frown over at her.
She holds her hands out and shrugs. “I dunno. I’m just the messenger.”
She goes back to doing her homework, and I finish chopping the fruit. Then it clicks. His favorite bourbon—Jim Beam. He’s gone to get drunk? Well, he has enough reason to. But what the hell? He doesn’t even want to try to talk to me? Not that we’d get much of that done with the kids awake. It’s not exactly the kind of fight we can have within earshot of them. But I still thought he’d want to, I don’t know, do something. Why go to all that effort of finding me and hauling me out of there buck ass naked only to ignore me all over again?
I chuck the fruit into a bowl and put it between them. I try to distract myself, and we discuss their day while I clean up the counter and the knife before putting it away.
An hour later, Trey is knocking on the front door with the keys to my car and an awkward smile on his face. I glance outside to see my car in the drive, and Lola waving at me from hers. She then motions with her hand for me to call her.
“Uh, thanks,” I mutter, feeling my cheeks heat.
“Hey, I’m not judging. He didn’t tell me what was going on. But he sounded pretty, um … upset.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m supposed to meet him at the bar. Don’t worry. I’ll get him home safe.”
“Thank you, Trey. I’m sorry you two got dragged into this.”
He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, honestly. Shit happens.”
With a wave, he runs off through the rain to climb into Lola’s blue Mazda.
I close the door and stare down at my keys.
Shit happens indeed.
My life has officially become one big clusterfuck.
And I’m one of the main reasons why.
I wake to the sound of the sink running in the bathroom. It keeps going, and I start to get worried that maybe I accidentally left it on when the en suite door flies open, and Leo stumbles over to the bed. Ripping his white dress shirt over his head, he tosses it to the hamper then discards his pants before sitting down on his side. His head falls into his hands, his palms rubbing over his face and through his hair.
I turn over, staring at the smooth ridges of his back as the moon shines in on the shadows of our bedroom through the cracks in the curtains.
“Where’ve you been?” I ask quietly.
I don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he laughs darkly. “You have the audacity to ask me where I’ve been?”
The venom in his voice stings and causes my eyes to glaze over with tears, but I keep trying. “We need to talk … I just want—”
“How many times?” He cuts me off.
“What?” I whisper, but I think I know what he’s talking about.
“I said how many times. How many times did you …” He blows out a loud breath. “Did you fuck him?”
I sit up. “I didn’t … we didn’t.”
He spins around, his blue eyes shooting more venom at me. “Don’t lie to me, Lia. I fucking saw you.”
“I didn’t.” I shake my head frantically. “That was the first time we were going to. We hadn’t before then, but we’ve done …” Like a coward, I can’t even bring myself to say it. To own up to what I have done.
He laughs, the sound breaking off abruptly into a drawn-out groan as he curses and stands. “You know … I thought you were joking when you said you were having an affair. I never thought you’d actually go and do it,” he says roughly.
I stare up at him, pleading with my eyes for a little understanding even if I don’t deserve it. “You shut me out. I felt like—”
“Like what?” He snarls at me. “You felt like you needed to get fucked, and I wasn’t giving it to you, is that it?”
“No, well, kind of, but it wasn’t just that … not at first,” I admit with a whisper. “When I said that to you, I never thought I’d actually do it either.”
He shoves his hands into his hair, and even with the lack of light, I see his features contort with pain. Pain that I put there.
“Leo, please.” Tears start to run down my cheeks. “I didn’t know what was happening. You wouldn’t talk to me, touch me … It’s been months since we felt like us. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“So you do this?” His voice cracks with emotion.
“I’ve needed you—for so long—and you just …” I sniff and swipe at my nose with my hand, “you just left me.”
He stares at me for a heartbeat, and I see the way his eyes flash with something. “But I’ve still been here. I haven’t fucking left you. I’d never leave you.” He growls the words at me, and my heart crumples in my chest.
“You were here, but you haven’t truly been here at all.” Why can’t he see that? Or is he buried too far beneath whatever has changed him that he just can’t?
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t … I can barely stomach being near you right now.”
“No.” I scramble across the bed. “I still love you, Leo. But you’ve been breaking my heart for too damn long.”
He sniffs. “Yeah?” He rounds the bed to grab his pillow before walking toward the bedroom door. “Well, now you’ve gone and broken mine, too. Fuck you, Lia.”
I flinch. He opens the door then closes it behind him with a quietness that would only have been for the sake of keeping the kids asleep.
But he may as well have slammed it.
I fall back onto my pillow, silent tears still streaming down my face. My hand reaches over to touch the cold, empty space where he was sitting just a minute ago.
What have I done?