Chapter 3
Simone
The bed dipped down as Brad climbed in, rousing me from my sleep. I glanced briefly at the clock where the huge red numbers informed me that it was two in the morning. Since that night a couple weeks ago, Brad had been spending even less time at home, often not coming home at all. The first few times, I’d texted him, worried that something bad had happened to him. He took that opportunity to accuse me of trying to control him. He reminded me that he was an adult and didn’t answer to anyone. So even though I had been genuinely concerned, I stopped texting him after that. I really didn’t mind when he wasn’t home because it meant I was able to relax and not worry that I would inadvertently piss him off.
“Hey, are you just getting in?” I asked sleepily.
Brad huffed in irritation. “Yeah, I went out with some friends after work. Is there a problem?” he asked, while arranging his pillows.
Why he continually sounded angry when I asked him anything had always been baffling but now it was starting to grate on me. I constantly felt on edge around him and I was wondering why I even bothered anymore. A thought I had been having a lot lately.
A couple weeks ago, he’d told me that I had no right asking him where he was or who he was hanging out with. When I’d reminded him that I was his wife and that most married couples shared basic information with each other, he’d laughed and then left the apartment and didn’t come back for two days.
Brad treated his parents the same way. If they said anything to him that he perceived as negative he would stop talking to them. Even though he treated them poorly, they continued to do everything in their power to help us out. And while I didn’t know for sure, I suspected they had recently started giving Brad money since ours seemed to never last as long as it should. I hoped he wasn’t wasting his paycheck on going out with the boys instead of paying for his part of the bills.
I rolled away from him, wanting to go back to sleep. “I don’t have a problem, I was just asking,” I said, tiredly. It was obvious he was wound up and I didn’t have the energy or desire to engage with him.
“Well, why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use instead of asking me questions,” he taunted.
The idea of sex with him held no appeal whatsoever. The thought of Brad ever touching me again made me want to run away from this room, from him.
I thought about the two reasons Brad had stayed in this marriage. First, he didn’t want to look like a deadbeat dad, even though he wasn’t very involved with Stella. And second, he had easy access to sex. Not that we had sex often anymore, not like before when we both got something out of it and it’d been fun. After having Stella, my body had changed and I was curvier than I used to be when we’d first met. Brad commented on those changes often and could be rather critical of my appearance. I couldn’t deny it’d slowly eaten away at my self-confidence. I tried to ignore his negative comments and I did my best to look good for him, but my priority was our daughter, not making sure I looked like a model at all times.
All pretenses of being romantic had disappeared even before we’d gotten married. For the past year or so, he would simply tell me what he expected, and he was either happy when I complied or angry if I wasn’t in the mood.
“Not tonight, Brad,” I said when he prompted me again. I was already worn out by this conversation. “Stella had a rough day and I’m exhausted. I had just fallen asleep when you came in here.”
“Why do you always have to be such a bitch, Simone? When I first met you, we had sex all the time. You were a lot more fun and adventurous. Now it’s a huge production just to get a fucking blowjob,” he accused, the agitation in his voice clear.
I was ready to bring up the last time we had sex and remind him how he had treated me, but honestly, I was tired. Not just in a physical sense, but mentally as well. I didn’t know how much longer I could pretend to be okay with our relationship. Not that I could even call it a relationship. “I’m sorry you’re not happy,” I said instead.
“Yeah, well, you’re always sorry. Don’t know why I bother to come home some nights,” he responded missing the hint of sarcasm in my voice.
I didn’t want to continue this conversation with him. Especially since I knew it would just lead to a fight and nothing would be resolved.
“Hey, let’s both get some sleep, we have your dad’s birthday party tomorrow,” I said, hoping to end on that.
“I’m not going tomorrow,” he stated flatly.
I rolled back over and looked at him with surprise, now wide-awake. “Why not?”
“Because Trent’s going to be there,” he answered, rolling his eyes as though I should have already known that.
“But… it’s your dad’s birthday,” I said slowly, not hiding the disapproval from my voice or face. I wanted to add that tomorrow wasn’t about him and his issues with anybody, but I knew that would piss him off. “Don’t you think you can make peace with your brother for one day?”
“Fuck, Simone!” he shouted. “Just leave it alone, okay? I don’t want to go, end of story.”
I rolled back over, facing the wall, hoping his shouting hadn’t woken up our daughter.
I really wanted to go to Jim’s party as a family, for Jim and Marla’s sake, but I knew it wasn’t likely I’d be able to convince Brad once his mind was set on something. I was going with Stella, no matter what his final decision was because unlike him, I cared about his—my—family.
*****
I spent Saturday morning getting Stella and myself ready for the party while Brad slept in. It had taken a while for him to settle down and finally fall asleep. But all of his tossing and turning had kept me awake.
After I put Stella in a cute pink jumpsuit, I set her up with a few toys in the living room so I could check on the brownies that my father-in-law had requested I bring to the party. Most people wanted to have a cake on their birthday, but Jim loved my homemade brownies and requested that I bake them for every family get-together. I think he was just being nice, but it always lifted my spirits a little.
“When are you leaving?” Brad asked, causing me to jump at his sudden appearance. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and he was still in his flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. The scruff on his jaw was getting darker and thicker. His bloodshot eyes scanned the kitchen until they landed on the coffee pot. I hadn’t noticed his eyes last night, and he hadn’t appeared drunk when he came home. He looked awful now, like he’d partied all night.
When he gave me a bleary-eyed look, I realized I’d been staring. “In about thirty minutes. Are you sure you don’t want to go?” I finally asked, hoping he had changed his mind since last night. Although, if he didn’t go, I might actually get to enjoy myself instead of waiting for Brad to start an argument with every member of his family.
But, Jim was turning the big 5-0 and I was worried Brad would eventually regret missing his father’s birthday party. It was inconceivable to me that he could so easily pass up spending time with his family, who were nothing short of amazing.
“I told you last night I wasn’t going, so just drop it already,” he snapped, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Well, what should I tell your parents? They know you have the day off.” I was worried I was going to be forced to lie to them and I really didn’t want to do that. Not only did it make me feel bad, but I was also a terrible liar.
“Just tell them I’m not feeling well,” he muttered.
He moved into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and turned on the television. He set his mug down on the coffee table so he could dig into his pocket and pull out his cell phone. For the last month, he was on that damn thing all the time. He gave it more attention than he gave to me and Stella combined. It was just one more thing that was making me revaluate my life—but then I thought about Stella and how our situation could turn bad in an instant. I hated how I talked myself off the ledge, but this wasn’t just about me. It never had been, which is how I got into this mess.
“Fine,” I agreed, even though I hated the idea of being dishonest with his family. I also didn’t need us to get into another fight before I left. When the timer went off, I put on my oven mitts and took the brownies out to cool. I glanced over at Brad. “Can you keep an eye on Stella for a couple minutes while I finish getting ready?”
“I guess,” he responded without moving his eyes away from the TV.
I moved Stella to her playpen so at least she wouldn’t be able to leave the living room. I wasn’t convinced Brad would actually pay attention to her. I desperately wanted him to be an involved father, but she was one-and-a-half years old now and he still didn’t seem interested in taking his fatherly responsibilities seriously. I had thought throughout the pregnancy and birth that he’d bond with her, but he never had. He’d also never really put in any effort. I’d tried to get him to interact with her more, but that seemed to push him further away. I didn’t want to nag so I stopped and hoped he’d come around on his own. But that hadn’t happened yet either. He remained distant and aloof with her, like she wasn’t even there. It hurt that he had no interest in his own daughter. The family I’d wanted—that I had—was in appearance only, and finally accepting that was painful. With Brad mostly gone these last couple weeks, my old fears and insecurities had begun to haunt me. Having seen this same sort of dysfunction all throughout my childhood, I felt that my future and my daughter’s future was barely hanging on by a thread.
I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on getting ready. Seeing my in-laws always made me happy and I was looking forward to getting over there. I rushed to our bedroom to grab my sandals, made sure my dress wasn’t too wrinkled from holding Stella, and touched up my makeup. I tried to finish quickly, not wanting to upset Brad any more by taking too long. I put up my long hair since the weather forecast for today said it could get a little warm.
I went to the kitchen, put a lid on the brownies, then set all the stuff I’d need to take with me on the kitchen counter. I moved to the living room to pick Stella up, who made it very clear she didn’t want to leave her toys, but I got her to cooperate eventually. I tried to balance a grumpy toddler, a container of brownies, and a diaper bag while Brad continued to sit on the couch flipping through the channels with one hand and texting on his phone with the other. I attempted to open the front door, but it was proving to be impossible since my hands were already full.
“Brad, can you come help me get everything out to the car?” I asked.
I was only a few feet away since our apartment wasn’t very big, but Brad continued on like I hadn’t said anything. Realizing he had no intention of helping me, I sighed loudly, and transferred the diaper bag to the same hand that was already balancing the brownies and turned the knob.
Somehow, we made it out to the car in one trip and I was able to get everything loaded in the trunk, then I buckled up Stella in her car seat.
“Go bye bye?” Stella asked as I started to back out.
“We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house; it’s Grandpa’s birthday today,” I explained, while looking at her in the rearview mirror.
Stella absolutely adored her grandparents and the feeling was definitely mutual. Where Brad was often absent, Jim and Marla Thompson made their granddaughter a priority in their life. To be honest, I don’t know how I would have made it through the first few months of Stella’s life if it hadn’t been for my in-laws. They were such kind people and I thanked my lucky stars every day that they were there for the two of us.
“Unky Twent?” Stella asked, in her cute baby talk.
Trent was another person that I was thankful for. He would often take his niece out for his famous “Trent and Stella Dates,” giving me an occasional break. He was the complete opposite of his brother. He never acted like Stella was an inconvenience or burden and seemed truly happy to spend time with her. The thought of them playing together made me smile.
“Yes, Uncle Trent will be there too, baby,” I told her.
For the rest of the car ride she chattered on and on about all the things she was going to do with Trent. Even though I couldn’t make out everything she said, it sounded like he was going to have a busy day keeping up with his niece.
I arrived at the house about an hour early since I’d promised Marla I would help set everything up for the party. I noticed that Trent’s truck was already parked in the driveway along with a fancy BMW that looked vaguely familiar. The Thompsons’ ranch-style house was more inland but still a short drive to the ocean. I wondered if we’d spend some time in their backyard pool, which Stella loved to play in. I had packed our suits in her diaper bag, just in case.
I walked in through the front door, having been told early on in my relationship with my in-laws that family and friends don’t have to knock at the Thompsons’ door. From stories I’d heard, all of their sons’ friends treated their home as their own. Kids had been constantly been coming and going and Marla had absolutely loved it. Many of their friends still called Marla and Jim ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. I had a hard time calling them that and usually used their first names. I could tell that they wished I would call them mom and dad, but they never pushed.
“Hello?” I called out as I entered the house with Stella on my hip.
The living room was large and inviting but currently empty. There were leather couches in a U-shape around a square glass coffee table, pictures on the wall, and knickknacks from their travels lined the built-in shelves. Walking in I could feel my whole being just… relax. This was how a home was supposed to feel. Stella’s eyes took in everything, even though she knew this place well.
A gust of wind blew the door shut behind me. The loud bang caused me to jump a little.
“Is that my favorite daughter-in-law and granddaughter I hear?” Marla’s sweet voice called as I walked toward the kitchen.
As soon as Stella heard her grandmother she wiggled to free herself from my arms. I set her down and she started running toward her Grandma the moment her feet touched the ground.
“Gramma!” I heard her shout as she went.
As I rounded the corner to the large, open kitchen, I saw Marla, in a navy blue A-line skirt and off-white blouse. Her short, blonde hair framed her pretty and still youthful face. She always looked put together yet still approachable. Her eyes lit up when she spotted me. She had Stella in her arms giving her a giant hug while Jim leaned over and peppered the side of Stella’s face with kisses. Jim was in tan slacks, and a golf shirt, his robust, tall frame almost overpowering Marla’s more petite stature. I took a second, enjoying the three of them together.
“The only birthday gift I need,” Jim stated, grinning at me. “And my brownies, of course.” He winked, and then gave both Stella and Marla a bear hug. I smiled fondly at Stella, who was grinning from ear to ear, and I was really glad I’d decided to come. Even though they babysat Stella several days a week they always acted like the last time they saw her had been ages ago. I loved that about them. They were the image of happiness as they held Stella, who was giggling and happy with all attention. Then my eyes took in the rest of the kitchen and my stomach dropped.
Sitting at the island was Trent, his friends Kyle and Erik, and someone I hadn’t seen in two years—Kyle’s younger sister, Addison. There were a lot of windows, all of them open, but all the light from the late morning sun seemed to shine directly on her.
The only interaction I’d ever had with her was when I had showed up at her house looking for Brad so I could inform him that I was pregnant. Seeing her staring back at me with her own frozen, tense expression made me re-live that day. And I knew she was going through the same thing. I felt clammy all over, my stomach rolled with tension, and I felt a little nauseous. I figured, at some point, our paths would cross. How could they not, considering the complicated relationships of everyone involved? And if anyone had told me she’d be here, I probably would have used Brad’s excuse and avoided this moment. But we were both here now and I reminded myself that Addison had a longer history with this family than I did and she’d been the one hurt. If she had things to say to me, I’d take it, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn ugly.
“Hi there,” I managed to squeak out at all four of them. I stood by the doorway, not willing to venture in any further.
“Hey,” Trent answered, getting up to give me a hug. I returned it hesitantly while stepping back a little. Marla and Jim usually let me initiate physical contact. They figured out early on that it made me uncomfortable at times. Especially during tense or stressful moments, which was pretty much all the time being married to Brad. Trent had never really noticed or he figured I would say something if it bothered me. With an encouraging smile, he moved over to grab his niece out of his mother’s arms. Jim had his arm casually around his wife; their need to always be close was evident. He gave me a fatherly smile while Marla looked between everyone.
Erik gave a small wave and a close-lipped smile and then retreated toward the back of the kitchen in an attempt to avoid getting caught in the middle of a potential showdown.
“Hi, Simone,” Kyle said, his deep voice was kind… and sexy.
His voice drew my gaze to his and his stare made me feel like he was looking at me, like he really saw me—it always did. I wasn’t used to that from a man, especially one as attractive as Kyle. I’d only been in the same room as him a few times over the past two years, and we rarely talked to each other. The longest conversation we’d had was when he had been seated in my section at the restaurant, and that was only because I had a job to do. It was the only reason I hadn’t been as rattled since I knew I couldn’t screw up at work. But here, without my job as my shield, I felt a little exposed.
“Um… hi there,” I muttered, my throat dry. God, I was an idiot, I’d already said hi. I clammed up, not sure what else to say since every single person was watching me. It made me feel a little vulnerable, like it was me versus all these other people. I was nervous all over again but for different reasons this time. The heaviness in my stomach was gone, but the kitchen suddenly felt a little too warm.
“Did you have a nice drive here?” Kyle continued. It was obvious he was trying to lessen the tension in the room and I was grateful for that.
“Yeah… it was nice,” I said, slowly. I felt my cheeks burn, wishing I wasn’t so nervous.
Seeing Kyle though always reminded me of the day he’d opened the door. So tall and lean, his eyes peering down at me curiously and his light brown hair a bit tousled. He’d looked handsome in his gray slacks and an aqua-blue shirt. The entirety of his focus had been on me, and I’d almost forgotten why I was there. Or that maybe I’d rung the wrong house, but glad if I had. I’d always thought Brad was the best looking guy in San Diego, but the minute my eyes had landed on Kyle… it’d all gone to hell.
Today, he was in a plain green shirt; the color nearly matched his eyes, and dark fitted jeans. He looked like someone who had his act together and there was a quiet confidence to him that was almost intimidating. I was always tongue-tied around him and didn’t know how to be easy-going when he talked to me, or any of Trent’s friends, really. I was the ‘other woman’. They never made me feel like that, but I had a difficult time not feeling it when other people were around that knew all the sordid details.
I licked my lips and darted my eyes away, looking around the kitchen, taking a moment to collect myself. I concentrated on not saying something stupid or making a fool out of myself. Without Brad here I couldn’t just fade into the background. Brad usually made a scene right away so I was used to not being the center of attention. Not today, though. I felt everyone’s eyes on me.
Hi,” Addison finally said, somewhat forcefully. She sounded just as nervous as I was feeling and it was almost a relief since she didn’t look angry or like she was about to yell at me.
“Where’s my other son?” Jim asked, breaking the silence after our awkward hellos. Another uncomfortable silence fell as everyone turned toward me. Jim even looked behind me, as though Brad would walk in any minute.
Flustered, I tried to come up with an excuse more plausible than the one Brad had given, but I couldn’t. “Brad isn’t feeling well,” I lied, feeling absolutely terrible for doing so. Everyone just stared at me for a moment and I knew that none of them believed me.
“That’s bullshit!” I heard Trent mumble from beside me. “What’s the real reason he isn’t here?”
“Watch your language in front of Stella,” Marla reprimanded, glaring at Trent.
Trent looked appropriately chastised, giving his mother an apologetic look. I glanced over at my brother-in-law mutely. He and Brad had similar facial features but their looks were otherwise very different. So were their manners. But I could feel Trent’s anger radiating off of him, which felt the same as when Brad was mad at me. I almost shrank back from it. I knew he wasn’t mad at me, but his fury still made me uncomfortable. I just stood there frozen in place, not knowing what to say. I didn’t want to hurt his parents’ feelings or make things worse.
Trent then turned back to me calmer than a moment before. “It’s because I’m here, isn’t it?” he asked, still angry but keeping his voice milder.
They all knew that was part of it. Still, I wanted to somehow give a better explanation, one that would not make Brad look like a terrible person. I looked to my daughter making sure the tense conversation wasn’t having an effect on her, but Stella was none the wiser. I felt a slight pang at the way Trent held my daughter close to his chest—the way a dotting, loving uncle would. Even Trent’s friends showered Stella with attention when they were around her. It was a stark contrast to the fact that Brad rarely held Stella, or played with her, or even looked at her. I’d been ignoring that glaring fact but I couldn’t anymore. She was currently playing with the buttons of his light blue, button-down shirt with a content expression on her chubby, cute little face. Here, surrounded by her family, Stella was genuinely happy.
“I don’t know, Trent…” I said, quietly, staring at my daughter, “all he told me was he wasn’t coming.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” Jim said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His fatherly hug felt like he was on my side, but he didn’t hold on for long, much to my relief. At this point, I really just needed some space. “More importantly, where are my brownies?” He winked, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t really work, but I pretended it did.
I smiled back, tightly. “Oh. They’re in the car along with Stella’s things. I’ll be right back.” I quickly exited the kitchen, the smile falling right off my face as soon as I was out of view. I took several deep breaths. I needed a few minutes to myself before I had to face everyone again—for the rest of the day. Not only was I upset with Brad for choosing to not be here, I was still a little shaken from coming face to face with Addison.
“Simone, wait up,” I heard a voice say, just as I reached the door.
I paused with my hand on the knob and waited for Addison to catch up. Panic had me freezing in place and wondering if now was the time she was going to unleash her anger on me. I gulped, terrified but also wanting the confrontation that I had been anticipating to be done already. It was unnerving, knowing that I was going to be alone with the woman my husband betrayed in such a horrible way. I had no idea what she thought of me. Did she know that I was in the dark about their relationship or did she think I was some slut who hooked up with him not caring that he had a fiancée?
I’d heard that she had gone back to San Francisco a couple days after I had interrupted their holiday meal. I had no idea if she was just visiting or was back in town for good now. The various times I’d known she was in San Diego for a visit, I’d always thought about this moment, and apologizing, but now that it was here, I was dreading it.
I turned around when Addison entered the living room. Like her brother, she was tall, lean and the all gray maxi-dress she was wearing made her seem even taller. She was stunning with her green eyes that seemed to pop against her lightly tanned skin; they were slightly lighter in color than her brother’s and I was a little shocked to realize that I could tell the difference. Her light brown hair had streaks of blonde throughout and was up in a chic ponytail that accented her angular cheekbones and oval face. I could see why Brad fell for her.
“You mind if I help?” she asked, grabbing the knob and opening the door for me. “Gotta make sure your famous brownies stay safe from the boys. I hear they’re pretty great.”
I blinked at her slowly. I hadn’t expected this from her. Instead of saying anything, I nodded and we walked silently down the driveway, side by side. The silence, the weight of our history, made us both uneasy. Neither of us uttering another word until we reached the trunk of my car.
She put a hand on my arm. I tensed, but then looked up at her. “Simone, I know we haven’t ever had the chance to talk…” she started, then trailed off and appeared to be thinking of what to say next. “I’ve never blamed you for what happened between Brad and me. Even Brad more or less admitted that you’d had no clue he was engaged…” She paused, swallowing hard. “I thought it was important for you to know that I don’t have any bad feelings toward you. And I’m sorry if you felt like what Brad did to me, to you, was in any way remotely your fault. It wasn’t.”
“Uh… ah, um, well, th-thank you,” I stuttered. Her statement caught me completely off guard. I never expected her to be so nice to me. “That means a lot, Addison. I want you to know that—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” she said, gently cutting me off with a kind smile. “Truthfully, I knew things were off with Brad. Once I had time to really reflect on our relationship, I wasn’t that surprised to find out he had been cheating on me. It hurt but all the anger I had was directed at him not you.” She grabbed the brownies from the trunk while I threw the diaper bag over one shoulder. “And please call me Addie. Only Kyle calls me Addison and that’s just when he wants to annoy me.” She rolled her eyes, and then gestured with her head for us to go back inside.
I looked at her for a moment as she walked back to the house. Having this conversation with her had suddenly relieved a burden I’d been carrying around for two years. To have her understanding, as much as her forgiveness was more than I’d ever expected or even deserved. I decided at that moment that Addie had given me the opportunity to let go of my guilt and I needed to take it. I was not responsible for Brad’s behavior. That was something I was reminding myself of more and more each day.