Because (Seven Year Itch #4) (6 page)

Brandon doesn’t stick around while I contemplate what to say next. He goes into the bedroom and shuts the door behind him, only opening it to toss me an extra blanket and my pillows. I don’t make it into the living room with my things. I collapse onto the floor in the hallway and sob.

My marriage is over. I’ve provoked it. Even if he was having an affair, I don’t think I want to lose him. How pathetic, right? I’d rather live with a cheater than know he was free of me forever.

This was not the way to fix our problems. It was how to escalate them to be irreparable.

Chapter 7

It was the last straw; the nail in the coffin. I’m not even going to mention how I’d gotten pulled over by a cop not even a mile from my house for swaying. Luckily, I’d only had two beers, so I didn’t blow over the legal limit to get locked up. It was enough to scare the shit out of me, of course only making me more frustrated when I walked in my house and got the third degree. I suppose I should expect it now. I can’t recall the last time she didn’t give me hell after coming home late.

As I sit up in our bed I hear her crying on the other side of the door. I’ve given her a pillow and blanket, but she remains. Does she want me to hear her? Is this on purpose?

It’s killing me.

She thinks I don’t love her anymore.

She’s wrong.

My love for her is different than when we were teenagers. It’s changed, grown even, but at the same time it’s damaged. We’re damaged.

I try to tune her out. I don’t want to give in. If anything she needs to learn a lesson. I want to scare her so she stops with the madness, though I fear it won’t help. She’s adamant. Shayla doesn’t approach change well. I suppose we’re both the same in that category.

Tonight’s accusations were uncalled for. I know who answered my phone, but she never said a word to me about my wife calling. I want to be able to tell Shayla who it was, but I know it will only cause another fight. I’ve kept the truth from her on purpose, because I know what she’ll assume.

Once again I’m stuck with having to push my wife away to dodge a bigger fight.

It’s been fifteen minutes and she’s still there, her sobbing is breaking my heart. I run my hands over my face. I’m annoyed, but sad. I hate the idea of causing her pain. This isn’t how I want to teach her a lesson. I can be a dick, but this goes beyond that. More than anything I want to hold her. I know if I do, she’ll assume things are going to change. I take a few deep breaths before standing and walking toward the locked door. When I unfasten the latch and open it she’s crouched in a ball in the corner, her hands covering her face. Slowly she peers up at me. “Come to bed, babe.” It’s all I say. I don’t want to talk to her. I still can’t look at her without being angry, so it’s the best I can do.

I don’t wait to see if she’ll follow. I know she will. As I climb into bed I hear her making her way to the other side of the mattress. I turn my body so I’m not facing her and pretend to ignore her. This isn’t an apology. I still don’t know where we stand, but for the time being I want to sleep, and it can’t be done if she’s crying outside the room.

For a while she’s quiet. I try my damndest to go to sleep, but I’m burdened. Her constant sniffles only let me know she’s also awake. I adjust in the bed and face in her direction, only to find she has her back to me. I know I should refrain from offering support, though it’s hard to know I caused this. My hand rests on her shoulder. She shifts and faces me, her eyes are swollen from crying. “I’m sorry,” she’s able to get out.

I lift my arm and allow her to cozy up closer to me. Once again we’re right back to where we always end up. This vicious circle is killing us, yet we can’t seem to end the loop. “Just try to get some sleep,” I suggest.

“I don’t want to lose you, Bran, but I know you’re right. That’s why this hurts so much. I know we’re doomed.”

It hurts me too, but I’m too tired to get into it with her. I want to go to sleep so I can rationally think. I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I’m exhausted, so I refrain from saying anything at all.

Shayla falls asleep shortly afterwards. She’s still in my arms, and I’ll keep her there. She fits here, and I wish it’s where she can stay. Pain rips through me when I think of losing her. It’s agonizing to picture our daughter having to suffer from our inability to get along.  

It’s the middle of the night when I wake up because I’m sweating. Her hair is stuck to the side of my face, so I adjust to be able to push it away. She moves but doesn’t wake. It’s dark in the room. My eyes focus and I look at her. She’s peaceful. She’s beautiful like this. It takes me back to the first time we were together and how full of life she’d been. She was what every guy in high school desires. She made me want her, and I don’t regret it. I know my friends were envious I got to hit it. They lived vicariously through my relationship.

I remember when she told me she was pregnant. It was like a kick to my stomach. We’d been careless, but I never expected her to want to keep the baby. I still don’t know how my life would have turned out if it hadn’t happened. Don’t get me wrong, I will never regret having our daughter. She’s my angel and I’m blown away by the love she brings to my life, although there’s always that wonder in the back of my mind. Shayla and I wouldn’t have lasted. There’s no way. Even though she was different back then, I know I would have gotten bored. It’s just the way I’m wired.

My hand reaches over and runs over her lips. Her eyes flutter open and she’s staring right at me. Her emotional state makes me weak. There’s only one way I know how to fix this. I need her. I want her.

My face narrows in on hers. She doesn’t pull away, so I kiss her hard. She’s trembling from the start, and a part of me sets out to make it stop. It’s agony knowing this is the way it has to be. I’m sleeping with the love of my life; my enemy, the only person in the world who will destroy me, and I can’t hold back. I want to fuck her until there’s nothing left to fight about. We need to let go. It’s the way it has to be. Nothing good will come from this, but I continue, because I know a part of me will never be able to stop.

I’m struggling to keep it together. This kiss is more emotional than I want to admit. It’s like she’s throwing stones at my heart with every stroke of her magic tongue. Her hands intertwine with mine. I’m blown away by her ability to captivate me when I’ve promised not to allow this type of connection. She’s devoted to me, and I crave it. It’s never the right time to do this, not for us. We’ve been down this dark road, the one that leads to nothing good. Why we keep taking this same route is beyond me. I can’t explain and I don’t want to. I’m hungry for resolution; a temporary fix.

She’s the candy I couldn’t have as a kid. She’s the danger I was told to stay away from. I’m blown away by how I feel when I’m inside of her. As I struggle with my own conscience, she releases one of my hands and shoves hers down my shorts. It’s cold as it grips my cock. A chill strikes me, though her kisses soothe it away. She’s getting in to it. I feel her pushing me so she’s able to climb on top of me. I shove her shirt up until she lifts both hands to free it from her body. She unfastens the back of her bra and I toss it away, silently wondering why she’s kept it on in the first place. I cup both of her supple tits, pinching her nipples until I hear a tiny whimper escape her. She’s rocking her body overtop of me, content on letting this happen between us. These past couple of days are the most we’ve been intimate in months, but it only reminds me why it’s been happening. We only fuck when we fight. This is how we solve things. Intimately, in bed, naked.

I try to force her to let me on top. I need to flip her over and have my way. She grits her teeth and holds her position. “No. Not this time, Bran.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because, I want you to look at me. You need to look into my eyes this time.”

I get off so much easier when I’m behind her. It’s better. It’s tight and I like the way it feels when I use her hips to hold on to, but I’m content with this, at least at first.

I haven’t been inside of her in a while. I watch her stand up over me and take off her pants and underwear. There’s nothing sexy about it. In an instant she’s naked and waiting for me to remove my boxers. I shove them down and let her get them off my ankles. Her cold hands run over my knees and up my thighs. I know where she’s headed, and I’m not going to stop her. I love the way my dick looks when it’s surrounded by her plump lips. She licks from the base, her eyes watching me the entire way. My cock jumps and she moans. She takes one tit and rubs the nipple over the head. I don’t know which one of us likes this more. I groan and stare as she raises her breast to suck between her own teeth. I throw my head back, unable to watch without wanting to cum all over her pretty face. She knows this makes me crazy, so she does it again, finally coming up to kiss my lips. This side of her is rarely seen. She thinks I’m not attracted to her, but it’s dark and she’s more open this way. That’s why I always turn off the light. I know she’ll give me her all if I do.

I can feel her pussy taunting me. She’s wet, because it’s not ripping my skin. Instead, it slides. She’s positioning me without touching it. I use my hands to grab her tits and pull them close. I need to suck on her rock hard nipples until she cries out. I use my teeth and yank back. She licks her lips and leans forward until her tongue is brushing over mine and her nipple. If I was already inside of her she’d come apart, so I don’t waste anymore time. This is enough foreplay. I jerk my groin and wait for her to slowly lower herself onto my cock. We both makes sounds as I fill her walls. She’s tight, yet soaked with anticipation. I keep playing with her tits, pinching her nipples and watching her lick each of them. She’s riding me with precision, but I need more. I lift my ass off the bed and signal I want it rough. I slap on her left ass cheek and feel her pace increasing. She’s riding me like a wild stallion and I love it. Our bodies are slapping together, she’s so wet I can feel it running down my balls. My hands take hold of her hips and I work against her rhythm. The friction sends her over the edge. She falls against my chest and we kiss hard, like she’s hungry for it. Her tongue teases mine. She’s not letting me have it, so I fight harder. When she gives in I feel her walls pushing me out. She’s coming undone and it’s turning me on. I want to fill her with all the animosity I have built up. I hold her as it begins to happen. I need her to stop moving so I can handle it. She moves gently anyway and I explode.

Normally she’ll get up and grab a towel or a shirt to put between her legs to sleep, but she doesn’t move. Instead she cries again, except this time I can’t ask her to stop. I feel like I’ve failed. Being intimate hasn’t helped her cope. It’s only made it worse.

Now I feel like shit again, and I know a round two won’t help, so I hold her tight and let her get it out. I imagine this being the last time we’re together and it bothers me. I shouldn’t have told her to leave. It’s not what I want, not entirely.

Forced to be a family, I’ve done my best without losing every part of me I recognize. That’s my wife’s problem. She’s not the same person, not in any way.

The person sleeping next to me is like a stranger who snuck her way into my bed. It hurts me knowing I don’t like who she’s become, because I know the old Shayla would have been someone I could appreciate being around.

She wants to dominate me, but I won’t allow it. I can’t. I refuse to change from the man she fell in love with.

Before I can fall back asleep I head into the kitchen and pull a piece of paper off the grocery list so I can jot down a note for her to find in the morning. She needs to know when I get home tonight we’re going to sit down and figure this out. I’m done waiting for it to magically happen on its own.

Shayla,

I don’t want to fight anymore. We have to talk about this like adults. No more fighting. No more makeup sex. I’m willing to listen.

When I get home from work we’re going to sit down and talk about this. We owe it to Ab, and to ourselves.

Love- Brandon

Chapter 8

I read his letter three times before folding it up and putting it in my purse. While Aberdeen gets ready for school I’ve packed up some of my things. Brandon may have thought we’d made up, but I knew better. We couldn’t solve our problems under the same roof. We were only adding fuel to a fire that should have been extinguished long ago.

I’ve kept a straight face for my daughter’s benefit. I don’t want to tell her what’s going on until it’s the weekend and she has time to recuperate. I wouldn’t want her teacher burdened with the aftermath of that type of news. She is going to need support for sure, but I want for it to be me at least the first couple of days.

I watch her step onto the school bus before gathering my things. It only takes a few seconds for the tears to start pouring out. I’m a mess. Driving is going to be difficult. I haven’t even called my mother to warn her I’m on the way. I’m not sure I want to get into it this early in the morning. She’ll tell me to suck it up and go home. My mom isn’t the best person for advice. My father can do no wrong in her eyes. They’re stuck together like glue and assume every relationship should be as prosperous. Every time I consider telling them my problems I feel like a failure. They expect more from me. Sadly, I’m done being someone’s punching bag.

This isn’t about leaving Brandon and breaking up my family. It’s about finding the person I once was; the person I long to be again.

The first step is separation. I can’t look at him without feeling angry. Even when we’re together I feel deserted in my heart. The sex we’d had the night before only reminds me I need to free myself of his hold. I’m far too comfortable with letting him have his way with me. I crave his attention, even when its in vain.

This time has to be different. I can’t give in to temptation. I have to break free.

My mother isn’t home when I pull into the driveway. I’m still crying. It doesn’t help that I had to drive by the dealership to get to her house. I’m a wreck while carrying my things in the house. My old room is filled with sewing equipment my mom uses for her side job. I move a couple things off my bed and plop down on it. Not much has changed in the ten by twelve space. She’s removed my posters, but the same bedding and curtains remain. I check out every corner to get an idea of where I can put some of Aberdeen’s things. She’s going to want to stay with me on some nights if not all of them. I don’t want this transition to be harder than it needs to be. If she requests to see her father I won’t keep her from him. If we’re good at anything it’s loving her.

I want to believe he’ll be heartbroken when he discovers we’re gone. I have hope that he’ll call me and beg me to come home, but I’m determined I won’t give in. I can’t if I want to have the possibility of a future with him. There’s a good chance this won’t work. I’ll lose my marriage, and he’ll find someone else who can be the person he needs. Right now it’s not me. We’re wrong for each other. If we were two people looking for a relationship at this very moment we wouldn’t be a match. Everyone can see it.

I spend the next hour contemplating going home and forgetting about this stupid plan. It’s easier to deny the truth than to face it. It isn’t until my mother arrives that things get worse.

She doesn’t make a sound until she’s standing in the doorway to my room. Her arms are folded in the front while her eyes focus on my bags I’ve brought inside. “So, this is how it’s going to be?”

“Mom, I just need some time to figure out what I’m doing.”

“A wife belongs at home with her husband if you ask me.”

Her old fashioned opinions are expected. I roll my eyes and pretend it doesn’t bother me. “Yeah, I get that. Just let me stay here for a few days until I can work things out with Bran.”

“Does he know you’re here, or did you do all this behind his back?” She knows me too well. I’m a coward. I can’t look in his eyes and tell him I’m leaving. I snuck away in a sense, to avoid the inevitable. To avoid the look on my husband’s face when I tell him I’m walking out the door and I don’t know if I’ll be returning.

“Yes,” I lie. It’s better than admitting I’m at fault.

“And he agrees with this move?” She giving me that look where she doesn’t believe me. I know it’s only a matter of time before she’s on the phone with his mom trying to come up with a way to bring us back together. Our meddling mothers are so similar they could be the same person. They’ve been close since before we were married, and I’m sure it’s part of the reason Brandon asked for my hand in the first place.

“We’re going to work it out. It’s best if we put some distance between us. Mom, I know you care, but I don’t need the third degree. I could use your support right now. This isn’t easy for me.” I start to feel a burning in my throat while my eyes gloss over. I can barely continue the conversation. “I don’t know what else to do anymore.”

She steps in the room and pulls me into her arms. This makes me more emotional. As much as I need this, I can’t stand that it’s happening. I back away and clear the tears from my eyes. “I won’t be in your way. Aberdeen and I have busy schedules. You’ll hardly know we’re here.”

“I’m not worried about that, honey. I just want to know you’re not making your problems worse.”

“I’m not. I want to be happy. I’m doing this for me. I hope you can respect that.”

She smiles; one of her ways of pretending she is okay with my decisions. I’ve seen it a hundred times before so I know it’s important to let it go. My mom will always be on my side, but she adores Brandon, so it makes it difficult to convince her he’s done something wrong. I don’t want to mention a female answered his phone, because it would imply he cheated. Though I think it’s a possibility, I’m not ready to admit it to anyone else. She’ll just misconstrue it as me not giving my husband what he needs. I know this because my father cheated on my mother when they were first married. I don’t know how she was able to forgive him and learn to trust again, but somehow they say it made them stronger. I’m not built like my mom. I’m not strong, and I certainly don’t know the first thing about forgiveness, especially when the crime was still fresh on my mind, if there is a crime at all. I pray my imagination is playing tricks on me.

After my mother leaves the room, I crawl into the bed and take a nap. I need to rest my mind and my heart. Since it’s important to get Aberdeen from school instead of letting her ride the bus to our house, I’m aware of having to leave early.

The school secretary doesn’t question me when I ask to check her out of school twenty minutes before the final class ends. Aberdeen follows me to the car, but waits until I pull away to ask what is going on.

“Do you have a doctor’s appointment, Mom?”

“No. You and I are going to be staying at Grandma Kay’s for a little while.”

“What about Daddy?”

“He’ll be home taking care of the house. It’s going to be fun,” I add quickly in order to get her excited. “It’s like a trip. You like going to visit Grandma and Grandpa, right?”

“Why are we staying there?” She’s quiet for a second. “Are you and Daddy breaking up?”

My seven year old is once again proving how smart she is. “No. We’re just taking a break.”

“Because you don’t love him anymore?” She asks.

“I love your father very much. It’s not that at all.”

She begins to sniffle, and I feel obligated to pull the car over and comfort her. I wrap my arms around her as soon as I’m able to. “Sweetie, it’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to go to Grandma’s house. I want to go home.”

It hurts me to hear she doesn’t want to be with me, but I understand. Brandon isn’t the one who abandoned me. I left him. Her heart is with her father and I can’t argue about it. She’s fragile, and I respect her innocence. I run my hands over her cheeks and look into her eyes. “As soon as I talk to Daddy we’ll see if you can go home with him tonight. Okay?”

She nods, but still sobs quietly as she turns and peers out the window. I broke her heart and I hate myself. It’s another reason why I feel as if this decision will be the biggest mistake of my life.

“Will you come too?”

This is gut-wrenching for me. I hate having to hurt my child, but I knew to expect this from her. It’s going to get worse before it can get better. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I’m not going to be able to do that. Are you still wanting to spend the night with just Dad?”

She takes a couple seconds to respond. “Yes. I want to go home.”

I can hear her sniffling in the seat next to me, but I don’t dare look in her direction. I know if I do, I’ll lose my shit immediately.

At any minute I’m going to get the call I’ve been waiting all day for. Brandon will arrive home and read my letter. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, or how he’ll take it. All I can hope is that Aberdeen wanting to go home will calm him enough for me be able to continue on with the disastrous plan of mine.

I have no idea what the future holds, but I’m determined I’m not going to fail. What’s meant to be will find a way. That’s the saying. I hope it’s right, or else everything I’m doing will ensure a failed marriage.