Stolen Dreams

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “Really? Yeah, sure.”

  He stood. “What would you like to do?”

  “Honestly, I’m glad you like the dress, but all I really want to do is change into something that feels more like me.”

  A half hour later, I was in shorts and a tank top, and we were playing indoor mini-golf. I felt better—comfortable and relaxed—until I heard my name being called. I turned. Standing a few feet away from me was Trevor, one of Josh’s friends. He looked at me, then Jeremy, then back at me, confused.

  “What are you ... ahh ... doing here?” Trevor asked.

  What everyone else was doing there.

  Duh.

  “Playing mini-golf.”

  “Who are you with?”

  It was a nosey, inappropriate question. He didn’t have the right to quiz me. “Nice seeing you, Trevor.”

  And with that, I turned, following Jeremy to the next hole. I didn’t look back, and I didn’t need to—I only needed one guess to figure out what he was doing with the cell phone he’d pulled from his pocket.

  After mini-golf was over, we grabbed a couple of burgers and a six-pack of beer and sat together in my living room, reminiscing about the things we remembered from school. I said something about the time one of the students threw a dart that landed in the principal’s ass, and we both laughed. He reached over and grabbed my hand, rubbing it in between his own. It felt nice and odd at the same time to be touched by someone other than my husband after all this time.

  “You know, I almost asked you out in high school?” he said. “I always wanted to, but you never stayed single long enough for me to do it.”

  I laughed. “Funny. I thought the same thing about you. You always had girls swarming around you.”

  “Would you have gone out with me back then if I’d asked?”

  I nodded. “Truth is, I had a crush on you.”

  His face lit up. He leaned in, kissing me on the lips.

  “Is this okay?” he said. “Is it okay for me to kiss you?”

  I nodded. He wrapped a hand around my waist, scooting me closer until our bodies were aligned, facing each other. He kissed me again, and then again, each kiss longer and more passionate than the one before. I found myself craving the attention I felt I’d been missing for such a long time—things like the soft caress of a man’s touch, the passion in his kiss, the feeling of being wanted and desired—feeling like, even if I was in a room full of women, I’d still be treated like I was the only one he would see.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he lifted me to a standing position, cradling his hands beneath me.

  His lips left mine for a moment, and he said, “Do you want to go—”

  I didn’t think; I just nodded, pointing in the direction of the stairs to my bedroom. His lips found mine again, and our mouths remained locked together as he carried me upstairs. He pushed the door open to the bedroom, sat me on the bed. I leaned all the way back. He stood in front of me, rubbing my legs, and staring into my eyes.

  “Callie, if I’m moving too fast, or if you—”

  “It’s fine. This is fine.”

  “I just don’t want you to think of me as the kind of guy who takes advantage. I’m not. I’d never do that to you.”

  “It’s okay, Jeremy.”

  Even though I’d said it, I wasn’t sure if it really was okay. Inside I was conflicted, savoring each moment, while at the same time feeling uncertain and confused.

  He grabbed his shirt and lifted it over his head, then unbuckled his belt, sliding it through the loops before dropping it to the side. It clanked on the floor. He unzipped his pants, kicked them off, and turned toward me. With one tug of his hand, he peeled my shorts off, then proceeded to do the same with my shirt.

  I felt vulnerable, more vulnerable than I’d been in such a long time.

  Why had it been so easy with Jeremy and so hard with Josh?

  I knew why.

  It was the little things, things we’d both allowed to slip over the years together, like not kissing as passionately as we used to, and treating sex like a mundane chore instead of a loving bond between two people. Josh never really looked at my body—at least not in a long, long time. He never complimented me. Never made me feel needed, or beautiful, or wanted. Years of this behavior had caused me to back away from him, crawl inside myself, too shy and too nervous to ever make a move with my own husband, the one person I should have been more comfortable with than anyone in the world.

  Jeremy leaned over, whispered in my ear. “What do you want, Callie? Tell me what you want.”

  Everything.

  I wanted everything.

  I just didn’t know if I wanted it from him.

  He leaned in to kiss me once more, and the doorbell rang. I turned, looking at the clock on the nightstand. It was after midnight. I walked to the window and peeked out even though I knew what I’d see when I did—Josh’s truck was parked right next to Jeremy’s.

  “Who is it?” Jeremy asked.

  “It’s Josh.”

  Jeremy’s eyes widened. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I don’t know. He’s been avoiding me. I think one of his friends tipped him off earlier today when he saw me.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I ran to the closet, tying a robe around my body. “I’m going to go talk to him. I’m sorry, Jeremy. I have to do it.”

  “What are you doing here, Josh?” I asked.

  Josh paused, staring at my disheveled hair, the robe that wasn’t tied tightly enough around my body, and no doubt, makeup that had probably been smeared all over my face. “What’s Jeremy doing here? Why were you with him today? And what are you ... why are you wearing a robe, and—”

  “What are you doing here Josh?”

  “Are you ... are you and Jeremy dating?”

  “Even if we are, it doesn’t matter, does it? He’s my friend. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

  “What kind of friend hangs out after midnight?” He poked his head through the door. “Where is he?”

  “Leave it alone, Josh. Please.”

  “Is he ... in your room? In our room?”

  “You left me. There is no our room anymore. What I do now and whom I do it with isn’t up to you. You lost the right to be involved in my life, so don’t come here thinking you can step back in now just because you feel like it. I’m living my life just like you’re living yours. I’m not stalking you and what you’re doing.”

  He wasn’t listening.

  He was fuming, breathing hard, like a wolf hunting a scent.

  His voice boomed, carrying through the house. “Where is he? Jeremy!”

  Jeremy descended the stairs, making it obvious he’d just come from my bedroom. Josh pushed past me, stepped inside the house, and faced him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Josh asked.

  “What business is it of yours?” Jeremy replied.

  “Do you think because you caught your wife kissing me that you can come to my house and take advantage of mine?”

  “It’s hardly the same thing, Josh. I like Callie, and the two of you aren’t together anymore. She’s capable of making her own decisions.”

  Josh thrust his hands onto Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy slammed against the wall.

  “Josh,” I said. “You need to leave. Now!”

  Josh shook his head. “Not until he leaves first.”

  “I’m not leaving unless Callie wants me to go,” Jeremy said.

  “Get out,” Josh said. “Now.”

  Jeremy turned toward me. “Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go?”

  I looked at Jeremy. “You’re staying.” I looked at Josh. “You’re leaving.”

  Josh fisted a hand, driving it into the side of Jeremy’s face. Seconds later they tackled each other and were rolling around on the ground like a couple of kids in a schoolyard. I pressed myself between them, using my hands to try to pry them apart, doing what I could to break up their fight. T
hen Josh’s misguided fist missed Jeremy’s face, thrusting into the side of my chin instead. He immediately let Jeremy go and wrapped his arms around me. I shrugged him off.

  “Callie, I’m so sorry,” Josh said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  I didn’t say a word. I walked to the front door and opened it. Josh walked past me, hesitating a moment to kiss my cheek before walking outside. He leaned in, whispered, “It doesn’t look too bad, the chin. I hope it’s not, at least. Put some ice on it right now, okay?”

  “Goodbye, Josh.”

  “I’m sorry, Callie. About all of this. About everything. I’m an idiot. You deserve so much better than me.”

  Watching him walk back to his truck, his head down and shoulders sagging, tears swelled in my eyes, then ran down my face. I wiped them away, but they wouldn’t stop. The faucet had been turned on. There was no stopping it now.

  Jeremy placed a hand on shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Not really, but I think you should go, too, Jeremy. I think I need to be alone.”

  I walked into Kenna’s house, plopped down on a chair, and outlined the events that had occurred the night before. “I don’t know what to do, Kenna. He’s treated me like he doesn’t care if I exist, and then the minute he knows I’m spending time with someone else, he pops back up again.”

  Kenna sat across from me, combed her fingers through her short, blond pixie cut. “I don’t know what to think either. Maybe Jeremy set him off. He’s not just some random guy. He’s the guy who caught your husband kissing his wife. Think about it. I’m sure he questions Jeremy’s motives, even if you don’t. I don’t blame Josh for coming over. It means he still cares about you.”

  “He has no right. He can’t just ignore me, then swoop in and act interested just because another man has entered his domain. I’m not his property. I don’t even know if I’m his wife anymore. I don’t know what the hell I am.”

  Kenna leaned back, crossed her arms in front of her. “I know this is just my two cents, and obviously I wasn’t there when it happened, but I really think you’re going about it all wrong. Have you ever considered why Jeremy asked you out?”

  “If you think he asked me out to get back at Josh, or get back at his wife, he didn’t. He isn’t like that.”

  “Yes, but think about how Josh sees it.”

  “Why do I have to think about Josh at all?”

  “It goes back to what we all talked about at the very beginning. There are so many unanswered questions. Doesn’t it bother you? You still don’t really know what happened that day, or why he left, or why he walked out on your marriage.”

  She was right.

  I didn’t know.

  I didn’t know because I hadn’t asked.

  And I hadn’t asked because I was afraid.

  Afraid of the answer. Afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear it, or accept it, or ... handle it. But no matter how afraid I was, I’d never be able to move on until I knew the truth—all of it—

  the whys, and hows, and what’s leading to the end of our relationship.

  “Callie,” Kenna said. “You still love him, and until you don’t, this will always be unresolved inside you.”

  A weight rose within me, so deep and heavy, the only thing I managed to squeak out was, “I think I’ll always love him.”

  Kenna leaned forward, smiled, and looked me in the eye. “Then you know what you need to do. You need to go. You need to go right now and find him.”

  I sat next to Josh on the sofa in our house. He’d arrived a few minutes earlier. We’d gotten the usual pleasantries out of the way, and now here we were, two introverts trying to have a meaningful conversation with each other.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  “Fine. You?”

  “Fine.”

  Silence again.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not being honest with you. I haven’t been fine, not since the day I left. I’ve been miserable without you, Callie.”

  “Why did you leave then?”

  He ran a hand down the side of his face. “It’s just, there are things I want to say to you, things I need to say. I just don’t know how to say them without hurting you. I guess that’s the reason I’ve waited so long.”

  “I’m finally in a place where I can’t go another day without knowing what those things are, Josh. Why don’t you just tell me the truth? So what if it’s hard? It can’t be harder than what I’ve already been through.”

  He reached out, took my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  I couldn’t wait any longer. The time had come to rip off the bandage. “Are you with Libby?”

  His eyes widened. “No. I’ve never been with her. There’s nothing between us. There never was anything between us.”

  “Then why did you kiss her?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t kiss her, Callie. She kissed me. And I haven’t been back to work on her job since it happened.”

  “A woman just doesn’t walk up to a guy and kiss him. She must have felt it would be reciprocated.”

  “I don’t know what goes on in her head. She’s crazy. During the time I worked there, she’d come in while I was working, bring me a drink or a sandwich. Sometimes she tried to talk to me about all her personal crap, but I tried to stay quiet and remain focused on the job. I thought I could be nice, just like I would be on any other job, with any other client.”

  “So how did it escalate from talking to kissing?”

  “The day it happened she was crying. She started dumping all this stuff on me about how unhappy she was in her marriage, like I was her damned therapist. I told her she should talk to her friends, or a counselor, or anyone ... just not me.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said ...”

  I squeezed his hand. “C’mon, Josh. Tell me. Let’s be completely honest with each other. Okay?”

  “She said she felt close to me. She thought I understood her. I could tell there were feelings behind her words, and I was thinking about what to say to diffuse it and how to get out of there for the night. I said something about needing to get home. She walked out of the room, and I started to pack up. Next thing I knew, I turned around and she was standing there in a silk nightie, saying she wanted to leave her husband for me. She’d envisioned this life we could have together.”

  “Yes, but, how could she do that? She knew we were married.”

  Even though I’d asked, I knew how she could do it. Libby didn’t care about anyone but herself.

  “All I know is, she seemed to think she could spill her feelings for me and I’d be thrilled about it. I know how it sounds, but I’m telling you, Callie, I did nothing to give her the wrong impression. Not ever. I could never disrespect you like that. I mean it.”

  I stared into his eyes, knowing he was telling me the truth. I struggled to say the words I wanted to say. “But you left me. You left us. If it weren’t over Libby, then why?”

  “I want you to think about our life together over the past couple years.”

  “Okay.”

  “When was the last time you told me you loved me?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I always say it back to you when you say it.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about when you remember to say it first.”

  “I don’t know right now. I’m sure I have, though.”

  “You haven’t. Not for as long as I can remember.”

  I thought about it. It wasn’t true. Was it? I had so many memories of him leaving for work, giving me a kiss goodbye, telling me he loved me, but not a single one of me going to him first. “You know I love you though.”

  “How would I know? You don’t say it unless I say it to you. You don’t kiss me unless I kiss you. You don’t initiate sex unless I make the first move. You don’t touch me unless I touch you first. You hold back, wait for me to do everything, wait for me to say everything. Have you ever thought about how it made
me feel?”

  I’d never thought about it, until now, until this moment, looking at his face. He felt worthless and unloved. No wonder he’d left me.

  “Josh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I really didn’t. I was stupid. It was just something I didn’t take the time to think about, and I should have.”

  “The thing is, Callie, I want to come back to you, but I can’t go back to the way it was before. And I don’t know how to do it. I don’t expect you to change the person you are for me. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair to you. This is why I haven’t said anything. I wanted to be honest. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

  He leaned forward, cupped his hands around both sides of my face, and kissed me. I’d kissed his lips a thousand times, but today was different. Today was like kissing him again for the first time. And I wanted more. So much more. I moved closer, but he pulled back.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “I have to go.”

  “You’re leaving? Why?”

  “I have an appointment. Sorry. I’ve been seeing someone.”

  “What do you mean? You’re dating someone?”

  He shook his head. “I mean I’m talking to a therapist. I’m trying to work through my feelings, trying to figure out what the best thing is for me, and for us.”

  I was in shock.

  He stood. We walked to the door. He opened it, turned, wrapped his arms around me, kissed me on the forehead. “Will you think about what I said?”

  I nodded, feeling the tears brimming. I blinked, keeping them at bay.

  “Can we get together later?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’d like that.”

  I knocked for what seemed like an eternity before the front door opened. Hands on hips, I glared at the woman standing in front of me. “What the hell is your deal? You tried to seduce my husband behind my back when you know full well we we’re married.”

  Libby smiled. “You know then.”

  “Yeah, I know. He told me.”

  She whipped her head back and laughed like she found the whole thing hilarious, which only escalated my fury. “We’re not together. He wasn’t interested. I’m sure he told you that too.” She looked me up and down. “Though, I don’t understand why he didn’t pick me over you.”