I woke up in a man's arms this morning, and I'm still in them. This isn't my husband, not my bed, not my home. This isn't where I belong, so why do I want to stay here? Because this is safe. This is affection. This is Tommy.
His beard feels strange against my shoulder while my back is pressed against his front. I don't know when I fell asleep, but I do know we weren't this close. I lay awake memorizing the way his arms feel around me and I don't want to move because he'll wake up. He'll probably wake up and realize he's in bed with a married woman who lets herself get beaten, because I know Tommy and I know he'll never understand why I don't just walk away.
My phone chimes with a text and I startle so abruptly it wakes him. He makes a noise and the lock he has around me loosens so I quickly grab my phone. Opening the text from Corey, I quickly find a picture I took months ago and send it to him. It's only of a coffee cup at a Starbucks, but I send it so he thinks I'm up and moving, not wrapped in my old best friend's arms.
I roll to face him and I'm not sure what to say so I just stare at him. He blinks a few times, wiping at his eyes.
“That was the best night’s sleep I've had in years,” he mutters, sleep still making his voice groggy. His hand moves and rests on my hip, so naturally it's like there hasn’t been so many years between us.
“Yeah, me too.” As my hand moves upward, I'm telling myself to stop, but I don't, and I smooth his beard down, letting my fingers linger on the face of a real man. “I need a shower.”
“Five more minutes,” he says, his eyes pleading. “It's early, Beany. Five more minutes.” He pulls me closer to him and his arm wraps tighter around me as he snuggles closer. He shouldn't be this close, and I shouldn't be letting him.
My heart’s pounding and for so many different reasons. Corey will never find out I was in this bed. He may find out other things, but not this and I'm already here. I slide my fingers to his hair and stare at his face. It's so much different from when we were kids. It’s still his eyes and gorgeous lashes, but the beard makes him sexier, more mature. The messy hair makes him more desirable. The man he grew into is the man I should have settled for. Not that being with Tommy is settling, but I would have been happy settling in this atmosphere.
He's staring me in the eyes and my sight flicks down to his lips. I move just a little closer and my phone starts to ring, making me gasp and jump. The noise I just made sounds like a whimper, but it's an apology. I try to roll away but he doesn't let me, and I can't not take this call. Grabbing my phone, I stay locked in his arms and our eyes connect. I don’t want to have this conversation with him staring at me, but I can’t look away. He’s got me trapped physically and mentally.
“Good morning,” I chirp, trying to sound like I've been up awhile. I try to decipher Tommy’s emotions through his eyes but I’m not sure what I’m seeing. “I'm expecting him in thirty minutes.” The guilt inside me is tearing me apart. It's guilt for Tommy, not Corey. How am I in this situation right now? “Yes, I will.” Corey goes on about how he misses me, which isn't unusual; he's a manipulative man. “I love you too. Talk soon.” I disconnect the call and before I can even lower my hands Tommy's slamming his lips to mine, claiming me in a way I haven't been claimed since him.
His hands are gentle, cupping the back of my head. His lips strangely soft under the roughness of his beard. His tongue swipes at my lips and I part them without thinking. He kisses me like he's been dying to do it for years before he pulls back, his eyes locked on mine again.
“You don't love him, Affton,” he whispers, his thumb gently swiping over my jaw before he rolls out of bed and walks out the door.
I stare stupidly after him, not moving from this bed because my body is reeling from what he just did and I don't know how far I would have let him take that.
I don't love Corey, I know that, but what I don't know is can the feelings I had for my best friend before I left come back like they never went away? That asshole made me fall in love with him when we were kids, and what I'm feeling right now...
Avoiding him, I take a shower then spend over an hour on my makeup and hair before pulling out a Beany Designs original blouse. I never fit in with the fashion around here, I won't start now.
I sit at his kitchen table with shaking hands. I loaded my luggage into my trunk and I closed that bedroom door in hopes he won't open it and find out I plan on leaving. I'm sure he expects me to stay, but I'm not. I can't.
My eyes jerk up from the coffee cup in my hands when he walks into the kitchen shirtless and pajama pants low on his hips. He's not dressed and we have a funeral to be at!
“Tommy, what the hell have you been doing?” I look at the clock.
He cocks an eyebrow at me, like I'm the crazy one. “It takes you an hour to get ready. It takes me five minutes.” He pours himself a cup of coffee and leans back against the counter, his eyes trailing the outfit I'm wearing. “I went for a run. Fed Ginnie. Showered.” He shrugs. “You look good, Beany.”
“That's a really...eventful morning,” I mutter. “And thanks,” I quickly add. “I need to get to the cemetery a little early. We should probably drive separately because I plan on going to my brother's afterward,” I lie, unable to look him in the face.
“I thought they said everyone's going back there afterwards anyway for lunch or some shit. But...yeah. Separate. Works.” He takes a long drink of coffee, watching me carefully. “Then tonight back here. We gotta figure out how to get you out of that hellhole, Affton.”
I nod even though I'll be long gone before tonight. He won't understand it and he never will but I refuse to bring my troubles here. I refuse to put him, or anyone else from my life before Corey, in danger. Corey's not stupid, he just never cared to find out where I'm from, but he'd figure it out, and this is the first place he'd show up.
“Can I bury my mom first?” I quietly ask, wanting to forget about one tragedy and focus on another for now.
“Yeah. Sorry,” he mumbles. “You doin' okay with everything? I know it's been a while since you saw her.” He rubs the back of his neck and walks over to the table, pulling a chair out across from me.
“Yeah.” I nod and stare at the table even though I'm not okay.
Losing a parent is hard even if you're not close to them, but I think I'm more upset by the fact that I was such a coward for never telling my mom the things that I promised myself I would tell her. She made my life hard as hell just so she could be entertained. She made my brother's worse, to the point he shut out the entire world, attempting to avoid her and her drama.
“I wish I didn't let my job consume me as much. I found out my brother has a baby through his social media account.” I drop my shaking head, heavy with so much guilt. “I'm a horrible sister.”
He nods, gripping his cup tight and staring into it. ”He did have a baby. You excited to meet your nephew today? I mean, I know you're not excited for today, but you get to meet Bobby so... That's fun.” He cringes. “I'm horrible at small talk, Beany, I'm sorry.”
I smirk. “Just stop. I'm not excited about anything today.” Holding my head high, I look into his face and feel so much hurt that tears start to form but I hold them back. “Thank you for letting me walk into your house and treating me like I'm still...me.”
His eyebrows push together as he watches me stand from the table. ”You're always you, Affton. You just came back with a fuck ton more baggage than you left with, but we'll figure this out.” He stands and he's about to wrap those arms around me again to try to make everything better, but it won't. It'll just keep making it worse.
“I'm not me anymore, Tommy. And my brother knows it. I don't think he'll let me have much of a relationship with his son.” Before he can hug me I walk my cup to the sink, carefully washing it so I don't wash off the makeup that's hiding a bruise on the back of my hand.
There’s a heavy sigh before he leaves the kitchen and I hear his bedroom door close. I look around and try to imagine this is my house. This is the husband I want and deserve. This is the beautiful house he remodeled for us. And right outside those doors is a noisy city that I love to venture into everyday to fall in love more and more with my job. I come home every night to my loving, sexy husband who's been working hard. And our...the sound of Tommy's goat makes me blink my eyes and stop dreaming up stupid fantasies. That goat is a harsh reminder this isn't my life. I don't want a goat in my life. As cute as it is.
At his front door, I grab his hand. “There's going to be a lot going on today. Tons of people, I'm sure.” I roll my eyes. “So, just in case we don’t get to talk today.” I hesitantly move to hug him.
What I was preparing for was an awkward gesture of thanks, but his arms go around me and he hugs me like he used to hug me. Like nothing's changed and I sink into his arms.
“Thanks for everything.”
“I'll always be here for you, Bean.” He mumbles before letting go and stepping back. He's dressed in dark grey slacks, a crisp white shirt and a black belt with a massive belt buckle that made me chuckle when I saw it. “You sure you want to ride separately?”
“Yeah, just in case. I don't want you being trapped if I have to stay longer or go to my dad's or something.” I fix a few hairs standing out of place on his head and smirk.
He nods once, shoving his hands in his pockets before stepping off the porch and heading to his motorcycle. After a smirk my way, he pulls his helmet on and I’m in a trance. That should have been my sexy husband. My beautiful house. A breeze makes the trees whisper their reminder that I’m not in the big exciting city I want to be in and that’s why my husband is an awful man. And my house feels like a hell.
“Race ya,” Tommy says then flips his visor up. “That little sporty car's got nothin' on this bike.”
“My car is so fucked from these back-roads,” I complain. “I don't know how you don't wipe out on your motorcycle. You better be a careful driver, Thomas,” I scold, which is comical because I fully expect him to listen to me, as if I have a say in anything.
He doesn't respond, just shakes his head and I'm grateful he's keeping his mouth shut. Last thing I want to do is argue with him before I leave this place with the possibility of never seeing him again. The drive to the funeral home is painfully silent and emotions are ripping each other apart within me.
When I arrive, I greet a few people but for the most part, I stay out of sight. At least I thought I was hidden from everyone in this room until a hand touches my shoulder and I quickly spin around to look up at Little Brandt Kenshaw. He's not little, and he wasn't when I left either. One thing I do miss from here is men. Real, hard working, muscle baring men. Though Brandt's in a button up shirt that hides those defined arms, there's no mistaking he's a dedicated cowboy.
“I heard you were back, but I couldn't believe it till I saw it for myself.” His soft smile is endearing. “Nice to see you, Affton. Sorry it's under these circumstances.”
“You too, Brandt.” I hug him then pull back, grinning up at him. “I heard you got yourself a little wifey and a whole army of kids.”
The smile that beams from him is real. Bright. That’s real happiness.
“Yep.” He nods across the room. “Jo's over there with the baby. The rest of the crew’s at home with grandma, her mom. Didn't want to make today too crazy for y’all.” He lets out a chuckle, watching his wife from across the room like she's the only one that matters. The way a man should look at his wife.
“Please, that'll happen on its own.” I chuckle. “It's so good to see you, Brandt.” I shake my head, still trying to wrap it around all these boys have grown up. “Have you seen my brother?” I nervously clear my throat.
Brandt's head nods slowly. “He's up front. Probably where you should head. It was good seeing you, Affton. Hope to see more of you 'round here. I know Bo would sure like it.”
I keep a smile on my face and nod because telling him there's no chance is pointless. When he walks away, I scan the packed room for Tommy, but can't find him.
It's inevitable so I head to the front and my dad stops me. We don’t have a tearful greeting with hugs and kisses. He turns back to his friends and his arm drapes over my shoulder as his voice gets louder while he starts to ramble a long list of my accomplishments, the ones he knows about. It's all for show and to impress his friends and distant relatives, but my dad's not as proud of me as he pretends to be. He'd rather I stayed here under his thumb, and continued to circulate the family money. As my dad's attention span dwindles, I slip away and walk toward my mom's casket, ready to internally go through the diatribe that's been in my head for years. I'll get it off my chest then maybe I won't feel as much guilt for never telling her to her face it never felt like she loved us.
Someone grips my arm and I withhold my flinch from their fingers digging into my sore muscle. I look up at my little brother, who's another hard working cowboy and I can't help but smile. I throw my arms around him and the hug immediately feels off. He's not happy to see me.
“Hi,” I mumble, just wishing he'd hug me like he cares.
“Glad you came.”
“It's Mom, Bo,” I snicker and step back from him.
“Not sure you know the meaning of family anymore, Affton.” And he turns his back to me. His broad shoulders are a wall that won't be crumbled.
I stand at my mother's open casket, tears pouring down my face and everyone around thinks it's for her, but it's not. Why did I let any of this happen? Why didn’t I call my mom and air our differences like I swore I'd do one day? Why didn't I fight like hell to keep in contact with my brother and find out what's happened in his life? Why didn't I tell my dad we never wanted his money, we just wanted him to love us. Why didn't I tell Tommy I loved him before I left? It's all a simple answer. If I stayed in contact with my family, there's the possibility they'd find out how I've fucked up my life. And Tommy...I didn't have it in me to make him miserable by telling him I loved him because I know that man. He would do as much as he could to make me happy, whether or not he was happy. And I'm not sure he had the same feelings for me back then. He was in love with having fun and staying away from a commitment, and so I adapted the same mindset.
“Excuse me,” I say bumping into someone, needing to leave this room before I suffocate.
I fight my way for an exit and my eyes spot Tommy. Why it feels like he'll be my only comfort right now is a confusing thought, but I need him, and only him. I turn and fight to get to him as he talks with people I don't know and right now my mind is only on one track and that's Tommy's comfort and protection. I can't even fake a smile for the people I pull him away from.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper, clasping his hand. “I need you. Right now. I need you,” I insist and start pulling him away.
Everywhere I turn, someone's blocking me and I'm starting to get smaller and smaller, on the brink of a breakdown. Tommy takes over and pulls me close, getting us through the crowd and out a back door. The thick air fills my lungs as I inhale the familiar scent of home. God, I always wanted away from home, but right now as the smell of the country soothes me, I don't want to leave. And that's more dangerous than leaving.
“I'm so sorry,” I break down into sobs.
His arms wrap tight around me and he buries his face in my neck. “Stop apologizing, Affton,” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to smooth down my hair. “You have to stop apologizing.” He takes a deep breath, holding me tighter against him. He feels so safe standing here.
“I don't want to be here,” I cry in his arms. “My dad...my dad...” I almost let it spill, how my dad and Corey are so similar it's sickening. “And my brother.” I sob harder. “Oh god, I fucked up, Tommy, so bad.”
“Shh.” He lets out a puff of air and steps back, cupping my face in his hands. Hands that have seen a few hard days of work and nothing as delicate and manicured as Corey’s. “It's not too late to fix this, Affton. Your brother's a stubborn, bull headed man but he loves you. Your dad's always been a jerk,” he says, smirking. “And somewhere in here.” His fingers tap my chest lightly. “Somewhere in there is the badass girl who didn't give a fuck. We'll find her again.”
He's not lying, but that's because I had him. I didn't give a fuck, and I was a badass because I had him backing me through everything I did and said. I don't have him anymore. I have...no one.
I nod my head, carefully wiping at my tears and step closer to him. I have a few hours to pretend this is my life. This is the man that wants to be with me. This is the man that treats me right and loves me. Maybe not in the way I need from a companion, but I know he has love for me. Pretend he’s the man that came with me to California because I'm too stubborn to stay in this town. I reach out and put my hand to his side while his gently slides over my jaw.
This was my best friend, I used to be able to tell him anything. I can tell him my regrets, even though there's no point, but at least I can get them off my chest.
“I wish he was you,” I whisper.
His eyes close and he takes a sharp breath. ”God, Beany,” he whispers, his pained eyes finally opening to find mine. His head shakes. “Me too,” he finally mutters, almost so quiet I can't hear it. His eyes search mine then flick down to my lips before he dips his head and gently brushes his against mine.
“I want you—” I jump and a squeak when a child bounces off my legs, laughing hard enough that when I realize it's a little kid, I start to laugh at his happiness.
He's in a little suit and his blond hair is falling into his blue eyes while he rolls in the dirt, laughing hysterically. I look up at the woman that comes bursting out the door after him and it's Kinlee Jones...or Hart now.
“Bobby, no!” She huffs, plucking him out of the dirt and cringing, trying to keep him at a distance so the dirt doesn't get on her dress. “Your daddy's gonna be livid, little man.” She tries brushing him off. “Sorry, you two.” I don’t think she realizes it's me standing here. Probably because it's been forever since she saw me. God, my own sister-in-law doesn't even recognize me.
“He's fine, Kinlee,” Tommy says. “Looks just like you more and more each time I see the little guy.” He smiles at her and her head snaps to Tommy, then to me.
“Affton?” she whispers.
I can't take my eyes off the little boy that's acting just like my brother but looks just like his mom.
“Hi.” I glance at her then squat. “I'm sorry,” I quickly tell her because I just want to see him. “Hey.” I softly take his hand and pull him a little closer. This is the first time I'm laying eyes on my nephew outside of a picture. Tommy knows my family better than I do and it’s maddening I've done this to myself. This little boy has no clue who I am but he's being respectful and letting his creepy aunt stare at him. “I'm...” I look at Kinlee, not sure what I am. “Affton,” I mutter.
“Affton's your daddy's big sister, Bobby. She's your aunt.” She smiles brightly, then cringes again. “I'm sorry he's so dirty. He can't seem to stay away from mud.”
I laugh when he touches my hair. “This is a mess, dude.” I unbutton his suit coat and pull it off. His white shirt and suspenders make me laugh and I glance up at Tommy. “You're too cute.” I grin at the little boy until the door opens again and I look up at my brother. I stand and he approaches, picking up his son before limping a few steps back. I noticed that limp before but just figured I was making it up, but he's definitely got a limp. “Did you hurt yourself again?” I ask then glance from Bo to Tommy, then finally Kinlee because no one's saying anything.
“Where's his jacket?” Bo snaps and I quickly hold it out. Kinlee gently takes it. “I don't know if you're going to the cemetery, but we need to get ready for the procession.” He glares at me for a moment before taking Kinlee's hand then turning for the door.
I can't even respond before he's inside, keeping his family away from me. I bite my lip and hold my breath thinking it'll stop the tears but it doesn't and I turn to Tommy, mentally begging him to save me from this hell.
“Your brother was in an accident five years ago,” he says, sighing. “It was bad. Tore him up, broke them apart. He spent some time in California...couldn't walk for the longest time. It was pretty bad.” He's nodding, hands shoved in his pockets. “I'm sorry, Affton.”
I shake my head, not sure what he's apologizing to me for. I did this. This is my fault.
“I need to go.” I almost ask him to drive with me because I need him right now, but I can't because I'm leaving from the burial. “I'll see you there?”
“Yeah,” he says, watching me carefully. “You okay to drive?”
“I'll be fine.” I try to smile but when it doesn't come, I drop my head and move for the door. I push the fake smile I always wear on my face and make my way through the funeral home to find my father. “Dad, I'm going to drive myself in the procession.”
“I'd like you third. Me first. Then Bo. Then you.”
I nod and walk away. On my way out the door, a hand grabs my shoulder and I wince because it landed on a bruise. I look up at Chase's smile then my eyes flash to the redhead next to him.
“Hi!” I act excited and move in for a quick hug.
“Hey,” he says, pulling back from the hug and glancing at the redhead. “This is my wife Kaydence.” This cowboy’s beaming too. All these men and the love they have for their wives makes me sad.
She moves in quickly for a hug and I laugh. “You are gorgeous.” I grin at her and look her outfit over. She could be a model. I could take all these girls and put them in Beany designs and make a killing...
“You are too! I'm so excited to meet Bo's sister!” She bounces happily and I chuckle, glancing at Chase.
“It's great coming back and seeing all you guys grown up,” I say to Chase.
“Been too long.” He nods. “You seen all the boys yet? I think Grant's around here somewhere. Tommy should be here too I think.” He smirks at me briefly. “You probably know that already, don't you?”
“Um.” I keep a smile on my face, wondering what he means by that. “Yeah, I saw Tommy. I haven't seen Grant. But I was just heading out for the cemetery. See you guys there?” I don’t know why I keeping asking people that. I plan on watching my mother's casket enter the ground, then getting the hell out of here and back to my life before I don't have one anymore.
“Yep. We're heading there shortly. Good seeing you, Affton.” His smile is bright and his hand is tight in his wife's as they walk toward the parking lot.
The feeling of jealousy inside me makes me want to scream. I wasn't supposed to have anything to be jealous of when it came to other people. But they're all so perfect. They seem so happy and in love. And here I am, wondering what my money will do for me when I'm in my own casket. Sure I've traveled and I've seen a lot, but I'm a prisoner in this life now. I can't even tweak it to how I want it to go.
As I head for my car, someone jumps in front of me and I scream, flinching back and my ankle twists, sending me to the ground.
“Whoa, fuck!” He laughs. “Sorry 'bout that, you okay?” Grant Matthews is laughing as he offers his hand out to help me up. “Heels on rocks are a no-go, Affton. Do they not have rocks where you're from?”
I grit my teeth. Grant's always been a huge pain in my huge ass. “Scaring women walking alone in a parking lot is a no-go, Grant. You're lucky I didn't swing.” I straighten my pants then run my hands through my hair. “I'd ask how you've been but I see you're still a jackass.”
“And I see you're still a bitch.” With a grin, he nudges my shoulder and I brace myself because anywhere people touch is going to hit a mark. “Pretty hot bitch though. City life's been treatin' ya well.”
“God,” I groan before I start to laugh. He's always been a pain, but always made me laugh. “I treat myself well,” I lie. “It's not the city. I could be this hot in the country too.” I cringe then point. “I need to get my car.”
“Want me to ride with you? Need an escort?” He's grinning at me and I roll my eyes.
“No. Definitely not. Hey, where's your date?” I glance around. “Didn't you bring a first date to your grandma's funeral when we were kids?” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh at the jackass. Love him, but he's so dense.
“Hell yes I did! Funerals are the best way to get sympathy ass! Shit, why didn't I think of that this time?” He slaps my back. “You'd be a good wingman, Hart. Wing-girl. I need a good wingman. Everyone else around here got lame, acting like grownups.”
I groan and shake my head. “You still have Tommy. He's single.” I start walking toward my car, hoping he doesn't follow, but no such luck.
“Tommy hasn't been out with me in so fucking long. Workaholic, if ya ask me. I thought once the girlfriend broke up with him he'd be out searching for more pussy, but he's old and boring now. And that goat.” He cringes. “I've come to accept my best friend's lost to adulthood.” He shakes his head, still following me.
I stop at my car and face him. “Having a goat makes you an adult,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Got it. And you, Grant Matthews.” I fix the collar of his shirt. “Have remained the super cool, popular playboy. Collecting every disease the south has to offer.” I smooth my hand down his chest. “Stay classy, Grant.” I pull my car door open.
“Always good seein' you, Affy.” He ruffles my hair like he used to do when we were teens, just to piss me off, then jogs away before I can slug him like I used to.
I should get in my car and drive home, but I hate the thought of my brother despising me. He already hates me, I'm a disappointment to him, I'd rather not add fuel to the fire. I'll show up to put our mother into the earth. We'll stand tall as a family and continue to fool everyone who thinks the Harts are a loving group.
When I arrive there's so much commotion I hang back for as long as I can. I'm hoping to go unnoticed and maybe I won't have to stand side by side with more men that hate me. Of course that doesn’t last long. Someone grabs my hand and I quickly look over at Tommy.
“How ya holding up?” he whispers after leaning in, letting his fingers lace with mine.
“I'm fine,” I respond in a matched whisper. “I'm hoping my dad doesn't notice I'm hiding behind everyone because I really don't want to—”
“Affton.” I jerk my head toward my brother's voice. He looks toward the front then gestures his hand for me to march my compliant ass up there, and I do. Dragging Tommy with me.
“I need your support,” I quickly tell him, hoping he won't abandon me.
“I’m here,” is all he says, standing right next to me and not letting go of my hand.
I lean a little closer to him because my brother has shifted so I'm practically to his back. After a long sermon from the priest, they begin to lower the casket and something brushes my other hand. I look down and see Bo's trying to grab my hand with his right, but...he can't seem to grasp mine, so I help. When his fingers don't take hold of mine and his hand is incredibly cold, I realize there's something wrong with his arm. I burst into tears because I'm so far removed from everything here, I have no idea what's going on anymore. Bo hugs me to his side briefly, thinking I'm crying for our mother and when he lets go, the guilt that I'm not makes me push into Tommy's arms.
Tommy holds me while I cry, not for my mother, but for everything here that I left. He's the strength I need today, but not just today. He's been the strength I've needed all these years but I chose to forget about everyone in this town. Look where that got me.
As people start walking toward us, offer their condolences, I quickly turn to Bo.
“I love you,” I tell him firmly and he nods. “I'm still your sister.”
He stares at me a minute before sighing and pulling me into a hug. “I love you too, Affton.”
“Dad,” I grab his arm after Bo walks away with Kinlee. “Love you.” I kiss his cheek and don't even let him reply before I walk away. I grab Tommy's hand and walk him to the back of the crowd. “Hey, I'm going to head to my dad's and...” I glance around the ground. “See what needs to be donated and whatnot.” I look up at him. “I can't be in this crowd anymore.”
“Do you want me to meet you there?” His hand's tight in mine and he looks at where our bodies are connected like he's got a million more things on his mind than helping me get the hell out of this funeral.
“No.” I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I won't be long.” I wrap my arms around him.
I told Bo I love him, because I do. And I told my dad I love him, because I have to. I can tell Tommy I love him, because I want him to love me.
“I lo—”
His fingers push to my lips, stopping me. His eyes stern on mine. ”Don't.” He shakes his head, his jaw tight. Out of all my years of knowing Tommy, I never thought he'd shut me down and not let me tell him how I feel. “You better mean those words fully before you say them to me, Affton.”
My mouth hangs open. That's not what I expected. I mean those words, but not in the way he needs me to, because I'm not staying. I close my lips and look away from him.
“That's what I thought.” He takes a step back. “Will you call me when you're on your way back to my place? Or are you coming to your brother’s after you're done at your dad’s?”
“I don't really think I'm welcome at Bo's.” I chuckle to hide the hurt. “I've had enough today. I'm not going to go there.”
“Then call me when you leave your dad's. I'll meet you back at my place.” He gives my hand a squeeze before pulling me in for a hug. “I love you, Beany.”
I gasp at his words, but he's already walking away. He just told me not to say it unless I mean it. Does he...
I open my mouth to call his name, but what's the point? I'm leaving.
As I speed away from town, I look in my rearview mirror and the tears start yet again. I push dial and nervously tap my fingers on the steering wheel.
“Hey,” Diamond answers.
“Did your friend check in and out of the hotel?” I immediately ask. That was my alibi. I paid for a vacation for a friend of Diamond’s so if Corey tracks anything, there will be evidence.
“Yep. Everything was fine. You okay? How was the funeral?”
I huff. “I came home to a lot more than I bargained for.”
“Like a damn fine southern man?” she asks with a grin to her tone.
“How—”
“I stalked that guy. And I also stalked your brother. Mm-mm,” she moans and I can't help but laugh. “Too bad he's got a pretty little southern belle. I've never been with a southern guy. They all man? Muscles and country twang?”
“Diamond, stop.” I laugh.
“Why does everyone think you're from the east coast?”
“Please, please stop digging into my life,” I say with worry.
“It's all safe with me, Af. You okay though? Headed back?”
“Yes. Is Corey in the office?”
“Probably,” she mumbles sounding bored. She respects his presence but I picked up on Diamond not liking Corey soon after she started.
“I need you to disable messaging from all my social media accounts. If you can't disable it, delete them.”
“Uh, Affton, that's a really bad idea.”
“Do it. I don't want anyone able to contact me on social media,” I insist.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Corey's beeping in, Diamond. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Drive safe and yeehaw.”
“Diamond!” I shriek but she hangs up. “Hi,” I answer his call.
“What the fuck are you trying to pull?” his voice growls over the line and my stomach somersaults. “Five fucking years, Af. Five fucking years.”
Five years what? We've been married five years? We miscarried five years ago. Five years what?
“What's wrong, Corey? Talk to me. I'm driving home right now. Talk to me.”
“For five fucking years you've been my cunt of a wife and you never changed your fucking name on your accounts!”
Oh shit. My name was never changed to Affton Bower anywhere but legally.
“I don't manage them, Corey. You know this. It was an oversight! But you can't change my last name. People know me as Affton Hart. If you change it to Bower, it'll cause so much confusion. I can hyphen it,” I quickly offer.
“People wouldn't know who the fuck you are if it weren't for me, you bitch!”
People wouldn't know who I was, including you, if it weren't for Eamonn Piaget.
“I'll have Diamond change it right now. Affton Hart-Bower.” I can't budge on this and I know there will be consequences, but I absolutely can't. I’m a Hart and I always will be.
“We'll discuss this when you're home.” The line goes dead and I know what that means.
Every mile I get closer to my house, I regret leaving Tommy. When I walk through the door, Corey's headed straight for me and I quickly step out onto the porch, hoping he won't strike me while outside.
“Come in the house, Af,” he says with warning in his tone.
“N-no,” I stutter in fear.
“What?” He laughs menacingly. “Come into the house.”
“I can't. You're going to hurt me.”
“Walk into this house right now before I get angrier.”
“Promise you won't hit me,” I demand, trying to stand up for myself.
We're in a stare down and it's the middle of the night so none of our neighbors would probably catch anything he'd do to me right now anyway.
“I promise you,” he finally says.
“Corey, if you loved me...”
His eyebrows start to raise. “What?”
“You wouldn't put your hands on me,” I whisper, unable to hold eye contact.
“Come into the house, Af.” He takes a step back and gestures into the house.
“No more, Corey.” I hate the weakness in my voice.
“Please come into the house. I haven't seen you in two days. Greet me properly.”
“I can't.” I shake my head no.
“I promised you I wouldn't hit you.” He's losing his patience. “Come into the house. This is your last chance before I lock you out.” I hesitantly walk toward the house and he steps aside. “Good girl.” The second I cross the threshold he slams the door and shoves me against it so hard, spots blur my vision. “You goddamned cunt.” His hand's around my throat and he’s tearing at my clothing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Every move I make has him gripping my throat tighter and my knees go weak but he holds me up by my neck. Before I even realize what he's doing, sharp pain makes my ears ring as he tries to enter me.
“Stop!” When I try to kick, he punches the back of my head. I continue to beg until my throat is sore. I fight until I'm in too much pain and my front tooth is chipped.
I thought being beaten would be as bad as it got. Never did I expect him to rape me.
“This is rape, Corey,” I sob, making another attempt to get away from him but I'm too weak after uselessly thrashing against his restraint.
“You're my fucking wife,” he grunts, thrusting again. “It's not rape. I'll fuck you when I want.”
I close my eyes and try to think back to when I was happy. I'm not a stuck-up bitch that thinks money is the most important thing in the world. What I am is a devoted woman that likes to work hard for her money. I didn't want my father's money and I swore from a young age I would work damn hard to have more money than my parents, because my dad always held it over mine and Bo's head that we’d need him and his money to survive. I didn't want his old money. Dirty money. That money has been in the family for generations and I don't even want to think about where it all stemmed from. I wanted to make my own money. I wanted to be able to proudly take care of myself. And I love to work my ass off.
Right now I wish I were barely getting by, but so in love, we didn’t need much else. And I don't mean with Corey. I wish Corey didn't exist. There's only one man that will make me feel like nothing's ever changed in our lives. Even after years of drifting apart, my broken heart still fluttered for Tommy like this life I'm living isn't real. Like he's always been the one. Nothing was keeping me in the south though. Not even love, and damn that boy for making me fall in love with him. I just assumed I'd get over my crush, but after seeing him briefly, even after all this time, I have so many regrets, and not just because of the situation I'm in right now. I was never a hopeless romantic. Didn't want to find the boy of my dreams. Dreaming up the perfect wedding and making babies wasn't really my childhood ambition. But now that I've lived half my life, more or less the way I've wanted to, I do have regrets. I'd go back and beg Tommy to come with me, but that’s the problem. We're both too stubborn. I don't want to be in the south, he doesn't want to leave it. What other options did we have other than letting go of what could have been?
It's all long gone and my life's been replaced with a nightmare. As I blink my eyes open, I'm laying on the marble of the foyer and I don't remember why or how I got here until I try to move. I’m in so much pain, mentally and physically, I'm not sure I'll ever recover.
I can't go through this again. He's never done anything like this before. There's always been consent, and though I haven't actually enjoyed sex with him in a while, besides the one time I closed my eyes and thought about Tommy, it wasn't forced. He's never forced it on me like this. I've never begged him to stop. I've never wished I'd rather been dead, and the abuse hasn't gotten to these horrific levels, but add rape to it and I'm done. I'll get out of here before he does it again, because the more and more his mental stability slips, the more endangered my life becomes. I've never blacked out from him beating me before, but I’m waking up cold, alone, bloody, and raped by my own husband.
I'll serve him divorce papers and a meaningless threat that I hope he believes, and I'll leave town until he signs. Here's my chance to go home and let the arms I've needed this whole time protect me, but I'd never bring this hell home. I have to go somewhere Corey won't find me. And in the meantime, I need to find a different job. If I do get away from Corey, I'll need to rely solely on myself again, and I'll need enough money to keep myself protected.
I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I've never given up, I won't start now. I'll slowly regain my life, and maybe one day in the future, everything Tommy told me will be true. I'll deserve something better. And I'll be able to safely visit home...