Fractured Affections (The Affections Series Book 1) (22 page)

“I don’t want to talk about it, right now. She’s just been weird lately.”

I let it go for now. “We can talk about it later then.”

I made Dalton’s favorite dinner, homemade baked ziti, with salad, and garlic bread. I wait for the boys to finish washing up and take a seat then I place the meal on the table.

“We are glad to have you home, Daddy.”

Dalton’s smile finally reaches his eyes, and I feel like I can breathe a little easier. He looks around the table at all of us. “You have no idea how much I missed being here.”

We all dig in and talk about their day fishing. Even though it sounds like they didn’t catch much, I can tell they enjoyed themselves. Max caught the biggest fish, which still sounds fairly small, and Dylan had trouble with his line getting caught on something in the pond. Of course, Colt takes that as an opportunity to make fun of Dylan, earning himself a little jab under the table.

“How was your trip, Dad?” Dylan asks to change the subject away from his struggles with fishing today.

“It was okay, bud, a lot of work,” Dalton answers, while pushing his food around on his plate.

Feeling a little concerned that dinner didn’t turn out to his liking I ask, “Is it okay? You haven’t eaten much.”

Dalton looks shocked that I’ve noticed his lack of appetite. “Oh it’s fine, I’m sorry I haven’t eaten much. I guess I’m just tired.”

“Well, how about the boys help me clean up dinner, and we can all relax and watch a movie together?”

“Sounds good, Ma. Can I pick the movie?” Colt asks, as the other boys groan. He picks the same movie every time.

“Let’s let Daddy pick, since it’s his first evening home with us.”

Dalton stands from the table. “Thanks for dinner, baby, it really was delicious. I’ll go look on Netflix and see if I can find anything good.” He retreats into the living room leaving the boys and I to clean the dishes.

Dylan grabs a couple plates and heads to the sink. “Is Dad feeling okay?”

“I don’t know, baby, he looks really tired. I’m sure he overdid it, while he was away, to get back to us.”I grab a dishrag and start wiping the stove down. “You know what? How about we leave the dishes for tomorrow and just spend some time with Dad. All this can wait.”

All three boys happily abandon their tasks and hurry out of the kitchen. I make quick work of cleaning the counters and table before turning out the lights. It’s still early, but sometimes you need to shut down and just be. Dalton looks like he could use a week’s worth of sleep. I know that if we get into too much around the house, he will feel obligated to help. He’s never been one to sit still.

As I make my way around the back of the couch, I catch a glimpse of a brown tail wagging away. I guess the dogs are glad he’s back too. While one is lying in front of him the other is curled up by his feet. I hate to bother them, but I just feel the need to sit with him. “Here lift up, you can rest your head on my lap.”

Without protest, Dalton rises up just enough for me to slide in under his head. Once we are settled and everyone is comfortable, Dalton starts the movie. I have trouble paying attention to what’s playing because my eyes are focused on the man in my lap. My fingers slowly stroke through his short hair. My heart swells knowing that he’s here to stay. I’ve missed him more than I thought. I guess, Striker kept my mind busy so I wasn’t dwelling on it.

It’s not long before Dalton drifts off to sleep. I don’t move, just keep running my fingers through his hair while staring down at him. I get lost in thoughts about our past: how we got here, the family we built together, and how he might respond to what I need to tell him. I’m afraid to have that conversation. Not because I fear he’ll leave me, I know he will only offer me forgiveness. I hate that this will hurt him. He’s such a kind loving person, who always puts others before himself. He doesn’t deserve to hear his wife say that she tried to sleep with another man.

A small whisper pulls me from my thoughts. “Ma?” I look up to see Dylan standing over me with his hand on my shoulder. “It’s late. Do you want me to make sure Max and Colt put on PJs and brush their teeth before getting in bed? You can stay down here with Dad.”

I cover Dylan’s hand with mine, turning to look up at him. “Thanks, baby, that would be great. I don’t want to disturb Dad, he looks so tired.”

Leaning down Dylan places a kiss to my cheek. “Night, Ma.”

Max and Colt say goodnight, giving me a kiss. They each place one on Dalton’s forehead on the way to their rooms. I sit and allow the quiet to blanket over me. Once the boys are settled upstairs, the only sound I hear is the soft whispering breathes coming from Dalton. Resting my head back on the couch, I close my eyes and let the rhythm lull me into a light sleep. It’s as if my body has given in to my fatigue, but my mind in still flooded with thoughts that won’t slow down and play through my mind as a dream.

Who knows how long we stay on the couch like this? By the time I wake up, I feel like I’ve told Dalton about my actions with Striker at least a dozen times, receiving an array of responses from him. I can’t help but wonder if I have my husband pegged all wrong. What if he does decide to leave me? What kind of person wants to be married to someone when they have to question the love they share? I can feel my breathing pick up and my throat constricts. As my pulse escalates, I can hear the swooshing sound of blood pulsing in my ears.

“Rea. Baby, what’s wrong?” Dalton’s hand squeezes my thigh and he pushes himself up from my lap.

I try to focus on calming my breathing down. Breathe in. Breathe out. I’m having trouble taking in a full breath, but I don’t want to fall down that dark hole. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. The next breath I focus on taking in, comes a little easier, but the pressure in my chest is not lessening. Then, he’s there, my light pulling me out of the dark tunnel.

His forehead presses to mine and his fingers stroke through my hair causing a stillness to settle around me. My thoughts calm. My breathing begins to even out. The tightness in my throat and pressure in my chest abates. This hasn’t happened to us in a while. He hasn’t seen a panic attack from me in at least seven years. He has to know where they are stemming from. Does he feel guilty for bringing Striker back into my life? I don’t want him to blame himself.

“My sweet Rea, you back with me now?” His voice is calm, just as it always was during one of my episodes.

Opening my eyes, I meet his beautiful blues staring back at me. Nodding my head yes in response, I swallow down the lump in my throat so that I’m able to speak. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you apologizing for something you can’t control?” he says as he wipes the tears from my cheeks.

“I just haven’t had one around you, in a while, and don’t want to scare you. I just have some things on my mind. I know it’s late, but I really need to talk to you.” I look at him with sorrowful eyes.

Pulling away, Dalton takes hold of my hand. “Okay, baby, but how about we head upstairs and climb in bed together, so we can get some rest? Then after we get the boys off to school, we can talk, just me and you.”

“There are some things that I need to tell you, and I don’t think they can wait past tomorrow. Like first thing tomorrow.” I draw in a deep breath, trying to bring my pulse back to a normal state.

“I promise, as soon as it’s just you and me, we’ll talk about everything. I have a few things to tell you about from my trip, but I’m wiped from today, and I want to be able to give you my full attention.” He presses his lips to mine for a short kiss, and then stands from the couch pulling me with him. “Let’s go cuddle, baby, I need a good night sleep.”

I smile; following behind him, hoping that I can get the rest I need too. I will be in a much better condition if I’m rested. As he pulls me along, I savor the grip of his hand around mine. Since meeting eighteen years ago, he would thread his fingers through mine, gripping my hand firmly, letting me know he was there for me. I have never been alone since meeting Dalton. Now, I just hope that he can forgive me because I’m not sure I know how to live without him.
 

Chapter Nineteen

Reagan

“Reagan, I’m back. Where are you?”

Dalton’s voice carries through the house. I feel a little edgy, knowing that it’s time we talk. Anxiety is pulsing through my veins, adding another level of worry. I hope I don’t have another panic attack. I try focusing on all the good things about today instead, like the fact that Dalton is here and we can work on moving forward.

“Up here in Colt’s room,” I holler back.

I hear Dalton’s footsteps coming down the hall. “Hey, wanna take a break from the joys of housework and have that talk now?”

I continue making Colt’s bed. “Yeah, I’m almost done here. Give me just a minute and I’ll be down.”

“Okay, want some coffee?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of him turning and leaving the room. After I finish, I take a seat on the bed and look around at all of the fun drawings hanging on Colt’s wall. He’s so creative and full of joy. I just hope that after today, we can return to providing our children with a solid happy home to grow up in. How could I ever put that at risk?

Deciding it’s time to face the music, I push to my feet and force one foot in front of the other, until I come face to face with my husband. He’s seated at the bar in the kitchen, staring down into his coffee, deep in thought. He hasn’t noticed my presence yet, so I take a moment to watch him. He looks so sad already, and I wonder if he’s talked to Striker about what happened.

“Why the sad face?”

Turning in my direction, he straightens his features. “Oh, hey, I didn’t hear you come down. Have a seat, coffee’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Dalt.” I place a small kiss on his stubble-covered cheek and climb onto the stool.

“Why don’t you go first, baby. I know something’s bothering you.”

Clearing my throat, I grab his hand and thread my fingers through his. I can’t even look him in the eye, so I stare down at our joined hands.

“I didn’t hurt your hand the other night when I came home, did I? You weren’t wearing your brace. I wasn’t thinking when I gripped it so tight,” he asks.

My eyes finally rise to meet his. I shake my head no, trying to stay focused on what I need to say.

“Dalton I …. I uh.”Clearing my throat again I force myself to continue, “I had a few moments with Striker that were, ah, less than appropriate.”

Dalton chuckles. “Less than appropriate? Could you be a little more specific? That’s pretty vague, baby.”

“Well, you know about my melt down. I had a hard time being around him again. The only time we were able to really find a balance was when the kids were around. He’s really good with the boys, by the way,” I ramble, trying to find the right words.

“Yeah, I know, Rea. I’ve seen them together before, remember?” He’s still smiling at me. Why is he smiling at me? The mention of keeping the boys’ visits with Striker from me, causes the anger I’ve been holding at bay to swell. Deciding to focus on one issue at a time, I continue.

“There’s still this pull I feel towards him, and even though I hate myself for it, it’s still there. We were doing well, after a while. We had found a balance, and decided to treat ourselves to a fun night out.” My hands tremble, and I look away from him again.

“Reagan?” Dalton grabs my hand and pulls me until I’m standing between his legs. “Please just tell me, baby. How bad can it be? I knew it would be tough for you guys.”

My head snaps up at his comment. “Yeah? You did? Then why did you bring him here? I’m still having trouble with that.”

“We’ll get to that, but I need you to finish first?” He reaches up and plays with a strand of my hair, while staring deep into my eyes like he’s trying to figure out my thoughts.

“I had too much to drink. I should have known better.”

“Did you sleep with Striker?” He asks with anger in his eyes.

Dalton finally seems affected. He jumps from his seat, reaching up to grab the back of his neck, and turns his back to me.

“NO!” I yell.

“What then, Rea?” He says, in a frustrated tone.

“We had a moment in the bar, so Striker carried me out, so we wouldn’t make a scene. He never had any intention of touching me, but didn’t want people you know to see me acting the way I was toward him. By the time we made it to the car, I was so confused about things. How can I love two men, Dalton?”

“Reagan, you always have. Why do you think you stayed mad at him for all those years?” He says.

“How can you be okay with your wife loving another man? It’s not right, Dalton. It’s really hard for me to comprehend.” My eyes begin to blur as the tears build, but I try to fight them back.

“I knew from the beginning what I was getting myself into. I’ve always known the kind of love that you and Striker have for one another. I can’t replace him, I was just the substitute.”

“What? You are NOT a substitute! Is that what you think of our marriage? That I was just wasting time with you until Striker came back around? Fuck you, Dalton! That’s never been the case for me.”

The tears finally break through my hold and race down my cheeks. I feel a weight bearing down on my chest. How could he feel that way? My love for him has always been real. He walks over and tries to wrap his arms around me, but I don’t want to feel his touch right now, so I push him away.

“That came out wrong. I used to be the substitute, but then things changed between us. I know you love me, just as much as I love you.”

“I have never thought of you that way.” I wipe my tears away but more continue to fall.

Dalton comes closer again and places his hands on my cheeks. There is an unreadable look in his eyes. “I know, my sweet Rea. We’re ‘til death do us part,’ right?”

I feel frozen, unable to grasp where this conversion took such a turn. “I’ll love you forever, Dalton.”

“And I’ll love you longer than that.” He places his lips to mine. There is nothing forceful about this kiss. It’s soft and tender, full of promise and regret.