“Whoa,” I said, playing with his belly button as I tried to lean him back my way. “I want you to hold me.”
Harshly, he said, “It’s five something. I need me a couple of hours of sleep before I head back. You need to do the same.”
“You can sleep with me in your arms,” I said as I continued trying to turn him around, but he didn’t budge.
He just tugged his arm away from mine and ignored my request. He didn’t have to say, “I’m serious, leave me alone darn it.” Because seeing his body language said more and hurt me to my core. What have I done? I said to myself as the distance I felt between us was so opposite to the act we had just performed. My mind kept playing tricks on me, I heard my unsympathetic husband say, “Was it ever worth it? Putting our marriage on the line, pretty much destroying it, by being with another man when it’s clear he doesn’t even care about you.”
And then I imagined hearing the callous voice of my mom, “I didn’t raise a tramp. No protection, Shari. I hope you don’t contract some disease from that user.”
Josie’s words came to mind, “Now we’ve been through a lot and seen a lot of jokers. Have fun, but be smart, and girl don’t fall in love. You know whatever he says he probably doesn’t care about you.”
“He does care.” I started fighting the voices back by saying it aloud.
I was kicking off the covers. My fist was hitting the air. I guess I was asleep myself and didn’t even realize it.
Bryce woke me, and said, “Who cares? What are you saying? Did you hit me?”
Both of us were out of it. He wiped his eyes. I saw him glance my way and I grabbed the covers. When we sat up in the bed, I had to ask him some questions.
“Wait a minute, you really do care about me, right? We’re gonna be together, I mean as a couple and stuff. This just wasn’t a one-time thing. Tell me Bryce this was real. I know you have kids, I have kids too, and we’ll just be a big happy family together.”
“Calm down,” he said as he put his arms around me and I wiped up my sweaty body with the cover. “You’re talking crazy, girl.”
He reached over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then he stood up and I watched his bare body walk across the room to the minibar. He pulled out a chilled bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and smiled at me as he handed it to me. He held my other hand in his.
He said, “Now let’s talk about what’s bothering you.”
It was now seven thirty and I was hoping I’d misread him a bit earlier. Either way, I had to talk to him. I didn’t wanna walk away with guilt on my conscience. I needed some kind of understanding.
“Was it good,” I asked, wondering why he’d stepped back.
“Yeah, baby, it was real nice. Want more?” he asked as he lunged toward me.
Touching his muscular mocha chest, I sat him back down. “I’m in love with you. Not just physically though, Bryce.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, standing up again, and I could barely concentrate by the view before me. My mind was all messed up.
“You ain’t talkin’ about being tied down or nothing like that? You’re not freaking out about nothing like that, are you? I hope you’re not trying to say I misled you.”
He kept on and on. I guess there was something in my body language that told him that what he suspected I thought, was correct. I did want more. If he didn’t, he’d misled me. I couldn’t even look at him. It wasn’t because what was before me was so enticing, but it was because what was before me clearly wasn’t mine.
“Are you saying you don’t want an intense relationship with me?” I asked, holding back tears.
“If I had to answer that right now, the answer would be no. I mean we’re still married. And not to each other.”
“I’m starting to feel unwanted,” I said.
“You’re just like Lacy. I can’t believe you’re all whiny and possessive and sh—”
“Wait,” I said, cutting him off. “Don’t curse at me. I’m nothing like your costar. I don’t know what the two of you guys did together and what she accepted, but I don’t know why you thought I’d be cool doing this and then accept merely a friendship. Of course I’m upset. For me, it’s a little bit deeper than that, Bryce.”
“Well, you should’ve told me something in the beginning because I never sent love signs. For me it was just sex. I was just being a man,” he said, shrugging his shoulders like I had a problem he couldn’t fix. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I suggest you finish that cold water ’cause you have some cooling off to do.”
I sat up, grabbed the bottle and vented. “You did show me signs. Saying all the right things, being more attentive than any man I’d ever met. Helping my career to rise. I thought that you loved me. I thought that the way you pursued me with genuine zeal was real. I just gave you everything. I don’t give my all to friends.”
“We were just satisfying each other, but being a couple? Honestly, Shari, it’s way too early for any of that. I am certainly not looking for that right now. We won’t even see each other. You’re going back to your home and I’ve gotta go back and work out this mess with my wife, because I’m trying not to have her take me to court. And me loving you? You’re talking crazy.”
He abruptly left the room, went into the bathroom, and shut the door. When I heard the old, steel handle lock, I plumped down on the bed and just wept. My life felt over.
Lord, I prayed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What have I done? How did I fall into this mess? Lord, why do I feel so worthless? So confused?”
When I heard the water turn off in the bathroom, I stayed on my knees believing in God for a miracle that somehow He could turn this whole thing around and work it out. I didn’t budge, my knees were clutched together. I did look up though. I wanted to be facing Bryce as soon as he exited out of the bathroom, but my actions didn’t faze him. In fact, they set him off even more.
As I could no longer concentrate on my prayer, I had to block out his words, “Oh, so you think pretending like you’re praying is gonna affect a brotha’? Girl, your married behind just slept with another married person. Don’t act like you’re all Christ-like up in here. I been through it all when I was in the bathroom, and it seems like it’s gonna be best to cut this completely off now. I don’t want you calling my phone trying to find my house number and calling me there. We don’t even need to be friends. We’re through.”
He gathered his clothes quicker than a track gold medalist runs the one hundred meters. It hurt that he wanted to leave so bad. He made a call.
“What?” He paused. “Mel, are you sure she followed me with a PI? This is crazy.”
I didn’t understand what he was talking about nor could I take his woes. My tears grew as I quickly got off my knees and went into the bathroom. This time I was the one who locked the door, wishing I could lock away all of my doubts, thoughts, problems, and uncertainties at the same time, but this was my reality. I had to face the music of the song I had written for myself. I didn’t think anything was going to help me. But I turned on the hot water and, for almost thirty minutes, I stood in the shower and let the water and steam relax me the best it could.
When I came out of the bathroom, I found a note and four hundred dollars in cash. The note read:
Hey,
Sorry you got the wrong idea. It was great for me. I’ll miss your friendship. But I’m out. B.
P.S. Here’s money to pay for a taxi back to the airport.
No verbal good-bye, no “I’m sorry,” and no thoughts about what we did. He was gone. It wasn’t a joke and it certainly hurt worse. Getting a much colder shoulder than I ever got from Dillon. Though my marriage was rocky, at least it was stable. Dillon might not want to cuddle after sex, but he’d never left me. Now what was I going to do? I got back up in bed, balling up in a knot.
The next time I looked at the clock, it was 5:50 PM. I’d slept the day away. With all the traveling and emotional stress of the last twenty-four hours, it was no wonder I was so out of it.
But after taking another shower, I checked my messages on my cell. Though I didn’t want to set myself up for a let down, a small part of me believed that Bryce was coming back. That he couldn’t just leave things like this. We had something special. Our time together here couldn’t be over.
“No,” I said out loud, wishing I was drunk to numb the pain.
So I picked up my cell, entered in the codes, and listened to four messages.
“Hey, Shari,” the country, sweet voice of my grandmother played. “I miss you, baby. I’m just touching base with you. Sally May, you know my friend up the street, said her granddaughter saw your book in the store. Ooh, you’re making me so proud. Alright, I’m just touching base. Call me, sweetie. You know Grandmamma loves you now. Bye.”
Hearing her voice made me lie back on my pillow, wishing I could lay my head on her bosom. She would stroke my face and tell me everything was gonna be alright. Wishing she could make me some of her sweet tea as well, though it was ice cold and not warm, the love she put into it made it right on point. But I couldn’t have any of that to drink. This time I had gotten myself in so thick that it would take more than her tea to get me out of it. But I was certainly thankful for hearing her voice. Somebody loved me and that felt good. I knew my streak of hearing good remarks wouldn’t last long.
My agent, Tina, came on saying, “Where are you, where are you? This is ridiculous that I can’t get you. I need that book and I need it now. I’m going to call your house because the play is over and I’m sure you’re there working on it. Now, you need to pick up the phone and at least tell me something! This unresponsiveness is going to make me want to drop you.”
I immediately wanted to say something back to her like, I can’t be available to you every minute you call. But I knew there were two problems with that. One, it was a machine so I couldn’t respond to a taped message, and two, if I did tell her that, she’d put me down for sure. Or put me at the back of her list and not do everything she could to move me forward. Though she was a strong Christian woman, at least she cared about making her authors large. I’d watched her tick off publishers when they didn’t pick up books she thought they should, but her harsh tactics made them rethink their decisions most of the time.
Anyway, I wasn’t in a position to want her to let me go. So I figured I’d let myself cool down and hope and pray that she really didn’t follow through and call my house. I had no idea where my husband was. The last thing I wanted to do was have him find out that I was supposed to be home when I was actually clear across the country.
Then the sweet voice of my best friend, Josie, was next to leave an urgent message. She sounded to hyped. I heard loud music in the background.
“Girl, I met this good-looking man. He has kids, I have kids, and girl, he’s up in the skating rink flirting something awful. Call me immediately. I need you to talk me out of this before I do something crazy. You’re the one that never acts on an impulse. You been with fine Bryce Maddox all this time and haven’t moved forward. If you can do that, I know I can tell this man to leave me alone. But, girl, looking at his abs it’s hard. And plus, my husband is still acting crazy about his trifling sister. Ring me up for real.”
Josie gave me way too much credit. She really didn’t know as much as she thought she did. Usually, I was the level-headed one between the two of us. But now I needed her more than she knew, because when I revealed what happened, she wouldn’t condemn me. She was my true sister. She certainly was gonna be surprised. I needed to call her fast, because this was a mistake that only one of us needed to make. It doesn’t feel good after a few moments of greatness.
My heart stopped beating for a long second when I heard Dillon’s voice last. “Shari, I’ve been thinking about you. I’m sorry I was a jerk that night at the dinner. It seems like I can’t ever tell you how I really feel when you’re right in front of me. I just let our entire problems crowd me, my heart longs to say, I don’t know . . . I miss you. Tina called. She said something about you should be home, so hopefully you’re on your way. It’s pretty sad our relationship is so strained. I really don’t know what to do. I’ll be looking forward to getting this back on track. I’ll be home late. Hopefully you’ll be there waiting up for me. I’m sorry I hurt you. Alright bye.”
Hearing the caring concern in his voice, I just shut my phone off and wept some more. “He misses me,” I said out loud as I wiped my tears with the sheet. Then I let the cotton material go and thought, This is the very same sheet I just gave it up to another man on and now I’m crying on it about my husband.
The next hour I ate food brought up by the owner of the hotel. I booked a very expensive red-eye flight straight home to Colombia, South Carolina. I gathered my personals, called a taxi, and as I waited for it to come, I said a prayer. “Lord, again I’m sorry. I broke my covenant and I regret it so much. I asked You to work on my husband’s heart and now I am the one needing grace. I asked You to help make Dillon not throw away our marriage by his harsh actions, and look at me now needing forgiveness. It’s just so crazy. Help me connect my thoughts to Your thoughts and come to the right conclusion. Do we even have a chance? Please show me the way. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
As I checked out, the owner’s wife touched my hand and said, “I’ll be praying for you. It’s not my business, but a lady claiming to be your guest’s wife showed up last night. I’ve got my own problems so I’m not judging; I just felt you should know.”
It was like a frog jumped in my throat leaving a big uncomfortable lump. This nightmare was worse. I didn’t tell her that I was self-destructing, but I knew the puffiness in my eyes gave away the fact that I needed direction. I wanted to tell her I would be alright. However, I didn’t even know at that moment if that was true. I had fallen for a man that played with my emotions to get what he wanted. I didn’t want to let her know that I had fallen into depression, but when she let go of my hand, I had somehow felt stronger.
I knew I needed to shake off the past and look toward how I was going to put all the junk of my life together and make something out of it. Okay, so what. I had chosen a few wrong paths. I had basically gone astray from the Lord. Now that I was aware of that, I could change. I wanted to change. I had to get my life right. As I boarded the plane to fly back to my real world—my kids, my husband, my parents, my writing career—I knew all of that was important to me. Clearly, I wasn’t perfect but I knew the Lord wouldn’t give up on me, so why would I be trying to give up on myself? As I nestled under the covers to shrug off some of the chilly air on the airplane, I took comfort in knowing that the only way I could walk right was with God. I didn’t know where He’d lead me, but this time I knew—wherever He’d lead, I’d follow. That was the only way to ensure a safe journey. Giving into my flesh would only lead me to a place of pure heartache, desperation, and disaster. No more.
As I gazed out at the clouds lit up by the airplane’s lights, I felt as safe as in the arms of God as the plane soared perfectly through the air with no turbulence and no bumps. I hoped to parallel that peace by getting to a heavenly place on earth one day soon. I was already beating myself up enough. I would get it right so that I wouldn’t be left behind. As an old gospel song goes, Nobody told me the road would be easy, but I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me. Somehow, someway, things were gonna be okay.
Walking into my house, it was so quiet I could hear a pin drop. I knew I wasn’t the only one there. I’d seen Dillon’s car in the garage, and at the airport I had gotten to see on ESPN that the Gamecocks had won their game the night before against Ole Miss. Heading up to our bedroom was a natural thing for me, but it wasn’t like I planned to sleep in bed beside my estranged husband.
However, something was drawing me up there. Maybe it was that I just wanted a hug. I certainly wasn’t in a rush to tell him about my meaningless affair. Maybe subconsciously, me wanting to be with him was a sign that I did want to salvage our marriage. But when I saw the sight of Dillon as I opened up the doub
le doors, butterflies were in my stomach. My husband was sprawled out across our king-sized bed with two little ladies nestled beneath his big body. He hadn’t had a ménage à trois experiment with two young girls, no. The sweetie pies were our daughters. Somewhere along the road he had gotten hooked up with my parents.
Without me, I could clearly see my family was just fine. I clutched my chest overcome with emotion upon seeing the sight of them more than okay. Their dreams must have been peaceful because all three of them were grinning wide like circus clowns.
I felt a knife in my heart because I wasn’t a part of it. Instantly, like someone had unlocked a chamber in the depths of my spirit, I knew I wanted to be . . . I wanted to be their mom again. I wanted to be his wife again. There had been so much damage done.
As I noticed my youngest daughter’s leg hanging off the bed, I gently placed the adorable little limb under the covers, kissed her forehead, and looked at my husband, admiring how much he loved them. He was holding our family together. As I tried to place my bag down gently, I saw his eyes open.
“You’re back,” he said in a pleasant voice, without moving his body.
“Yeah, and it looks like you’ve got company.”
“I was reading them a bedtime story and the next thing I know we were all just knocked out. I got back about eight and your mom was here with them. She said they really missed the both of us.”
“For real?” I said as I walked closer to the bed. “They—they missed both—both of us?”
My words couldn’t even come out of my mouth. It seemed too good to be true. I hadn’t talked to them as often as I needed to. Yet, the Lord had allowed them to still love their mommy who’d let them down.
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