Chapter 4
Secrets are the devil.
Miranda
It’s the middle of the night and Ty is snoring in the bed next to me, but I can’t seem to fall asleep, not when the couple in the room next to me could be having problems. Van wasn’t forthcoming, but I can tell she’s worried about Colt. The signs are all there. He spends more time in his office than watching television with her in the evenings like they’re used to. When she invites him in the shower or bath, he’s always too tired. She says she feels like he doesn’t want her the way he used to. It breaks my heart, because if I know anything about him it’s that he’s crazy in love with his wife. There’s obviously something going on, and if anyone knows the truth, it’s my sleeping husband.
I tap on his face.
Nothing.
I pinch his nose closed. He gasps for air, but doesn’t wake.
I slap his cheek, he rolls over.
Finally, I grab ahold of his shoulders and give him a good shake. Ty springs up so quickly that he head butts me right between the eyes. Covering my injured face, I fall back down on the bed in tears. “What the hell?”
“What the hell is right? Is there a fire?”
“No, Ty. I wanted to talk to you.”
He picks up his phone off the nightstand and checks the time. “It’s two in the morning. What gives?”
“I know you need your beauty sleep, but I have something important to ask you. I want you to tell me the truth.”
He tries to comfort me by removing my hand and assessing the damage. The bright lamp is turned on causing us both to squint. “Oh that’s terrible,” I complain.
“The bridge of your nose is bruising. I can tell Colt I dick slapped you and gave you matching black eyes.”
Annoyed, I shove him down on the bed and straddle him to capture his full attention. “Ignore the fact that we’re still naked for one second so we can talk, okay?”
He nods, as if it will get him more sex. This man is relentless. You’d think he’d grow of out this, but no, not Ty. He still needs sex five times a week. If he doesn’t get it, he’s like a toddler.
“Is something going on with Colt?”
Ty has been known to keep secrets for both Colt and Conner. It’s never anything that would harm their marriages, but usually more about big purchases they’ve made without consulting their spouses.
Ty won’t look at me. That’s the first sign he’s keeping whatever he knows from me.
“You know something. Spill.”
He covers my mouth with his hand. “Shh. Don’t be so loud.”
I’m whispering. “Just tell me. Van can tell he’s been off.”
“I can’t say.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
He shrugs.
We have a staring fit where neither of us will give in, and then when I realize he’s trying to weasel his way out of talking about it, I take matters into my own hands, literally.
Grabbing his balls, I twist them with the jerk of my wrist. “Tell me.”
Using his strength, Ty flips us over, while screaming in the most silent of tones. It’s almost comical to see him struggle. “I can’t, baby.”
I let go and back away from him. “Is their marriage in trouble?”
“No.” He scratches his head. “I don’t know anything.”
“Liar!” I poke him. “Van is concerned.”
“I told him she’d be able to tell something was up. It’s his problem to tell.”
His eyes widen as I try to decipher what that means. His problem.
“Miranda, leave it be. Please. It’s not something we need to help them with.”
“So it’s personal? Why doesn’t he want to spend time with her anymore.”
“He does.” He’s wiping his face again. “Jesus, please let me go back to bed. I was dreaming you were one of a set of quintuplets who wanted to share me. Do you have any idea what I can do with that many sets of tits?”
“What the..” Lightly slapping him on the cheek, I bring him back to reality. “Can you be serious? Now you’re worrying me. What could be personal that Colt can’t talk to Van?”
“I’m not a snitch,” he defends.
“Is it someone else?”
“No. Are you kidding? Who would want his old ass?”
“His wife, that’s who.” This time I knee him in the side.
“Ouch! As much as I like it rough, you’re skimming a thin line between pain and pleasure. How about we settle down and talk about this in the morning?” He yawns and gets comfortable on his pillow, using his arm to pull me down beside him. “Everything is going to be fine. He’ll tell Van about his problem when he’s ready. It’s sensitive. He needs time to prepare.”
I’m staring at my husband who left the light on. He opens one eye to see if I’m still awake. “That’s creepy.”
“Turn out the light and you won’t notice.”
“Don’t be mad, baby. It’s nothing.”
The light goes out, and while Ty gets comfortable again, I think about all the clues I have in front of me. It takes me a several minutes to consider the possibilities, but then I also factor in what could be so personal that even Ty wouldn’t want to tell me.
“Oh my God. Is he impotent?”
The light goes back on and his hand comes up over my mouth to prevent me from saying anything else. “The walls are like cardboard. Simmer down, woman. You can’t say that word out loud, not ever.”
I’m stricken with worry. “Why hasn’t he talked to Van? This could be serious. He needs to see a doctor.”
“He has. He said he doesn’t want to burden Van with it. It could be due to stress. You know how anal Colt is about the ranch. He’s working on figuring it out. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, so you need to keep this information to yourself. It’s not our business.”
“He’s our cousin.”
“Exactly. Cousin, not husband or wife. It’s a private matter.”
“How do you know?” I’m suddenly wondering why Colt would want to confide in Ty. He’s the last person I’d go to about dick problems. I can’t even imagine the things Ty wanted to say to him once he found out.
“I guessed that shit. He’s miserable. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out.”
“Please tell me you didn’t joke.”
“Colt is fine. I may have said a couple funny things, but it was only to break up the awkward silence.”
“Poor Colt.”
“Poor Van,” he mocks.
I look over at him, thankful we haven’t had to go through this ourselves. “He’s going to need you.”
“I need you,” Ty taunts while pulling me closer. Since we’re both up, let’s go another round.
Shoving him off, I bury my body under the covers. “I can’t. We can’t. Not while they’re in the room next to us having problems. No way.”
Ty doesn’t argue. He rolls over to his side of the bed and succumbs to his exhaustion.
Sleep doesn’t come easy for me. I feel obligated to talk to Van, even though I know I’m going against the promise I made to Ty. If I were Van, I’d want to know. She’ll be upset if she discovers we knew before her, no matter how we came to learn the news. Colt has a medical issue that requires attention and support. He must be so upset to think that part of him isn’t working. For a man, I can’t begin to imagine how awful that is. What I don’t understand is why he won’t tell his wife. She’s the most supportive woman I know. She’d see him through this, and if things couldn’t be treated, she’d figure out other ways for them to still have an intimate and fulfilling relationship.
I roll over and whisper in Ty’s ear. “Even if your dick stops working, I’ll still love you.”
He mumbles a reply that I know he won’t remember. “I’ll fight through cobwebs when we’re ninety to still hit it.”
The following morning we wake to the smell of breakfast cooking and coffee brewing. It’s like the commercials on television where the long lost family member is waiting downstairs with a mug of piping hot goodness in hand.
I find Van in long terry cloth robe. She’s humming as she mixes pancake batter in a bowl. “Morning,” she sings.
“Hey. You look cheerful.”
Van shrugs. “It’s better than being worried.” She checks up the stairs before asking. “Did Ty say anything?”
I have to look away.
“Miranda, just tell me. Do you know what’s going on with my husband?”
I nod, but say nothing. Van drops the bowl on the counter and pulls me into the small bathroom downstairs. When the door is shut, she’s staring me in the eyes, waiting for me to explain.
“He didn’t tell me. I guessed it. Ty did too. He was pushing Colt like he always does and it sort of came out.”
“What? What the hell is going on with my husband? Is he sick? Is it cancer? Do I need to worry? Should we even be here right now?”
I take her hands to settle her. “No. He’s not sick. It’s…” I can’t bring myself to say it.
“It’s what?”
“It’s his dick, Van. It’s not working.”