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My Skylar by Ward, Penelope (21)


CHAPTER 20
SKYLAR

 

 

I let out a deep breath. “I saw him.”

“You saw Mitch?”

“Yes.”

“That explains the emergency appointment. I don’t normally see you on a Tuesday.” Dr. Rhodes crossed her legs and settled into her upholstered wingback chair. She must have known this session could run long. Since moving back into town, I had only met with her a few times before this.

“Where did you see him?”

“Kevin and I had gone to Target to pick up a few things. I was in the toothpaste aisle, and he was right there. I didn’t notice him at first.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No. I froze.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He said my name, but that was it. He was just as stunned, I think. His eyes…”

“What about his eyes?”

“There was so much emotion in them. He was almost pleading with me without even saying anything. God, he looked so different.”

“How so?”

“Not in a bad way, just…new, I guess. He had tattoos on his hands, and I could see one on his neck. He didn’t have a single one when we were together. And he’s bigger now.”

“How did seeing him make you feel?”

I tried to find the right word. There was really only one way to describe it. “Alive.”

“Alive…why?”

“Feelings that have been buried for years bombarded me all at once. As long as I didn’t have to see him, I could immerse myself into this life I’ve built with Kevin, but when he was right in front of me, it was just overwhelming. It made me realize that I hadn’t really moved forward. I’ve just been in a holding pattern, making believe it all never happened.”

“Name some of those feelings.”

“Guilt.”

“Why?”

“For leaving when things got rough because I couldn’t handle the pain. I knew he was going through hell too because of what that bitch did. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but I just couldn’t be there for him, couldn’t stand by and watch while she…” I shut my eyes.

Dr. Rhodes finished my sentence. “Had his baby.”

I nodded as a teardrop fell. Thinking about it never got easier. Saying it out loud was impossible.

My mother and Mitch’s mom had grown apart after Janis moved from across the street to live with her boyfriend in the next town over. They were also a bit divided because of what happened. So, my only connection to Mitch over the past five years had been Davey. He had explicit instructions not to tell me anything unless I asked, and he respected that because he understood how hard it was for me. I didn’t even have the courage to attend Davey and Zena’s wedding a couple of years ago out of fear that Mitch would be there.

All I knew was that Mitch had dropped out of BU, moved back to New Jersey and that Charisma gave birth to a boy who would now be about four-years-old. When Kevin’s job transferred him here from Maryland, I had to prepare myself for the fact that I’d have to face the things I had been running from. But I wanted to come home. I missed my mother. It was time.

“You did what you felt you had to do to survive, Skylar. There’s no telling that things would have been better off for him if you’d stayed. He would have had to deal with your pain as well as his own. You wouldn’t have been able to change the situation if you had stuck around. You knew what you could handle, and you made the decision that was best at the time.”

I picked the lint off my skirt. “Maybe.”

“Besides guilt, what else did you feel when you saw him?”

This was going to make me sound horrible. “Lust. We always had a strong physical connection. I’ve never felt anything like it with anyone else. I wanted to touch him, but I couldn’t.”

“Guilt, lust…what else?”

“Fear. That might have been the most prominent. I’m afraid of what he’s been through. I’m afraid that he hates me. I’m afraid he’s in love with someone. I’m afraid of the unknown, and I’m not sure I ever want to know everything.”

“What does Kevin know about Mitch?”

“He knows what happened before I left New Jersey, but he doesn’t know about the Target run-in. When I first moved to Maryland and met Kevin, he saw how broken I was. Mitch is not one of his favorite people to put it lightly, and it’s better if I keep this to myself.”

“You think he’d be upset?”

“I’m not very good at hiding my feelings. If I tell him about it, he’ll know.”

“He’ll know what?”

“Just that…”

She adjusted her glasses. “That you’re still in love with Mitch.”

 

***

 

A couple of months after the Target incident, Kevin was preparing for his usual bimonthly business trip to Virginia. He would leave on a Tuesday night and come home on Friday. Kevin worked for a medical device company as a manufacturing manager. The reason for our move home was so that he could manage their new plant in New Jersey. He still had to travel back to his old office from time to time. I didn’t mind this because it gave us some space from each other. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be around him, but he liked everything just so: the house clean, a warm meal every night, and he wanted to have sex more than I did. It was kind of nice to be able to just lounge around after work, eat cereal for dinner and read my book.

“Have you seen my light blue dress shirt with the white lines?”

“No.”

“It’s not in the closet. It’s got to be in the laundry.”

“Then, it’s dirty.”

“You haven’t done any laundry since last week? What have you been doing?”

“I’ve worked just like you, and then I’ve been to the hospital a few times to visit the kids. You know that.”

“Sky, I have no problem with you volunteering with sick children, but when the house starts going to shit, you really need to budget your time better.”

“I can wash it real quick.”

“There’s no time!”

“Alright. I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

Just leave. Please. So, I can breathe.

It wasn’t that I hated living with Kevin. I just preferred it sometimes when he was away. He was difficult to live with, but I respected him. He made me feel safe and had saved me during a time when I wasn’t sure I was going to survive.

Depression had taken over my life when I first moved to Maryland. It was just one month after Mitch discovered Charisma was pregnant. There were still a lot of unknowns, such as whether she could prove he was the father. I couldn’t bear to be anywhere near him, so I took off without a plan, initially moving in with a high school friend who went to college out there.

When I asked Davey about the baby shortly after it was born, he told me that a DNA test confirmed Mitch’s paternity. That was all I needed to hear. At that point, I knew I wasn’t coming home, so I enrolled in design school and got my own place.

I had just started my freshman year at Maryland School of Design and lived in an off-campus apartment when I met Kevin. He was my downstairs neighbor, five years older and established in his career. Spending time with him gave me something to do besides thinking about what I left behind. It started as a casual friendship. Kevin was a foodie and introduced me to eclectic cuisines, like Ethiopian and Moroccan. Over time, our relationship turned into something more. When I finally opened up to him about Mitch, he vowed to help me forget. Sex with Kevin was good—not as great as what I imagined with Mitch—but certainly better than my first time with Chad. In recent years, though, the spark that existed in the early days had significantly waned. It was sad, but lately, touching myself was preferable to intercourse with Kevin.

He was packing his small suitcase, placing travel-sized toiletries into plastic bags. His flight was at 7:00 in the evening. “I left you a list of stuff I need you to do for me this week on a sticky note. It’s hanging on the fridge.”

“Okay.”

He liked to think I was his secretary. He made more money than I did in my job as an interior designer, so I guess he felt I had to earn my place here. Kevin did provide a good life for me. I didn’t want for anything and never had to worry about paying the bills. Even though I resented him sometimes, I felt the good outweighed the bad. No man is perfect, right?

“And Sky, don’t forget we have dinner with one of my supervisors, Ray Michaelson and his wife on Friday night. Buy yourself something nice to wear, not like that red dress you wore last time. That was too low cut in the front.”

Note to self: buy dress with low back to the ass to compensate.

“Got it.”

My anxiety lessened with each second that passed as his suitcase rolled toward the door. “I’ll call you when I get in tonight.” He gave me a peck on the lips.

“Have a safe flight.”

As always, I stood at the window until his car was completely out of sight before I let out a deep breath and plopped on the couch with my kindle.

After an hour or so, I meandered into the kitchen and poured some Lucky Charms into a bowl. Dinner. Done. Leaning against the counter eating my cereal, I noticed the to-do list plastered on the fridge. Pick up dry cleaning. Organize junk drawer. I stuck my middle finger up at the sticky note and took a marker to it.

I remembered that Dancing with the Stars was on and took advantage of the fact that I’d have the television to myself. Kevin wouldn’t be caught dead watching one of my shows. When he was home, I’d usually read in the bedroom while he watched the History Channel or BBC America. Halfway into some football player’s Paso Doble, I got bored, put on my reading glasses and opted to start my new book.

During a pivotal sex scene, my mind drifted, and suddenly, the image in my head of the main male character transformed into Mitch. He was dressed exactly as I remembered him from Target: paint-stained jeans, unruly hair and big, rough, hands with tattooed letters on his fingers. Mitch had gotten even more painstakingly handsome with age and had clearly been working out. His new rough exterior was definitely working for me. It hurt just as much as it brought me pleasure to have these thoughts. Still, I just couldn’t stop. With my eyes closed, I imagined Mitch doing the things to the heroine that the author described—the heroine who happened to be my Doppelganger. I clutched my pink blanket in frustration and continued to read until I fell asleep.

 

***

 

A loud bang woke me up. It sounded like gunfire or an explosion, and I immediately hopped up from the couch. With a palpitating heart, I ran out the front door.

Smoke was billowing from a car across the street. A man in a dark hood stood in front of it with his back facing me as I approached cautiously.

“Is everything okay out here?”

He didn’t say anything. My nerves kicked in because it dawned on me that I could have just interrupted an attempted break-in. He wasn’t moving, and just as I was about to run back inside and call the police, he turned around.

Crystal blue eyes lit up from under the darkness of the hood. “Skylar…it’s me.”

The shock nearly knocked the wind out of me, and I shuffled backwards. My breath was visible in the frigid night air as I tried to catch it. “Mitch?”

We silently stared at each other until headlights from an approaching car forced me to move out of the way and closer to him. His familiar smell invaded my senses, triggering an acute onset of unwanted desire. My body was still frozen as I stood there confused. My teeth chattered.

He broke the silence. “I’m sorry. It’s cold. Go back inside.”

There was that look again, the same pleading look he gave me at Target, like his eyes were screaming a million things at me while he said nothing. Something deep within me was screaming back at him even louder despite my own silence.

“What are you doing here?” I finally managed to ask.

Several seconds later, his voice was hoarse when he said, “I don’t know.” He looked down at the pavement and repeated in a whisper, “I don’t fucking know what I’m doing here.”

“You happened to be outside of my house late at night looking like the Grim Reaper setting off fireworks or some shit, and that’s all you have to say?”

He looked up at the sky and laughed, shaking his head. “You always manage to make me laugh at myself even in the worst situations. How do you do that?”

My tone softened. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“There’s no good answer for that. So, I’d better go. I’ll call a tow truck for my car.”

He started to walk away.

It felt like I was losing control of my bladder. Even though I was afraid to talk to him for fear of having to face things that would shatter me, I just couldn’t let him walk away. “Wait. Don’t go.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, looking surprised as he walked back toward me. “I’m here.” He said it with a level of raw emotion that told me he meant it in more ways than one.

I swallowed, and my heart beat faster with every step he took.

What was I doing?

“Do you want to come in?”

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