by Ella Fields
“Happy Birthday,” I murmured to the dark.
The next morning, I woke with a pounding head from having stayed awake most of the night, listening to Callum snore, hoping that I could internally talk myself out of feeling like I was getting left behind somehow.
I wasn’t successful, and feeling stubborn, I dumped his present on the counter, then made breakfast for myself.
I was putting my bowl in the dishwasher when Callum walked into the kitchen shirtless, bleary eyed, and rubbing the back of his head. “Christ, those guys sure know how to drink.”
I hummed, shutting the dishwasher.
I felt his eyes on me as I put the cereal back in the pantry. “What was up with you last night?”
Slowly, I closed the door, then turned around. “Well, it was your birthday yesterday, wasn’t it? I wanted to see you and did so for all of five minutes.”
“I know, fuck.” Callum pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”
Chewing my lip, I moved over to where his present sat on the counter. “Here.”
Smiling, he eyed it a moment, then looked at me. “You know I don’t need presents.”
“You know I don’t care, and I’m going to buy them anyway.”
He huffed, taking a seat on a stool. “So, we’re okay?”
Were we? Regardless of him ignoring me on his birthday, it still felt like he was being pulled away from me. I couldn’t let it go, and we were married. We couldn’t bottle stuff up, not when we’d promised to spend the rest of our lives together.
I leaned my palms on the granite countertop and met his gaze. “Why don’t you invite me out with your friends anymore?”
Tilting his head down, he studied a speck of cereal on the counter. “It’s … I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You get bored. Plus, it’s a guy thing.”
I stood back from the counter, a harsh puff of breath leaving me. “A guy thing, right.”
“Renee.”
Stopping in the doorway, I turned around. “What?”
“How about instead of being a bitch, you tell me what’s actually wrong?” he asked. “Is it the fact I didn’t ask you to come with me? Or that I wasn’t home to open another one of your outrageous presents? I won’t apologize for the former. I’m sorry, but I’m allowed to do shit without you.”
Hurt rattled through me, followed by defeat. I walked away, needing to mask it. “Okay.”
No matter what I said, I came across as needy and smothering. Was there any point in trying to explain why I felt this way? Probably not. My lips mashed together with frustration in an effort to stop the tears from spilling.
“Mini Mouse,” he said, voice soft as he followed me into our room. I stood in front of the mirror, pinning my hair back as he wrapped his arms around me and whispered into my ear, “I’m sorry, okay?” When I said nothing, his hold tightened. “You know, it’s not attractive, this sudden insecurity.”
My eyes shut, and I turned in his embrace, opening them to stare up at him. He stared back, neither of us willing to back down in our silent battle.
“You know what else isn’t attractive?” I whispered, watching his eyes dart to my glossed red lips. “A husband who forgets he’s married.”
Feeling him tense, I moved out of his hold to grab my purse, snatching my phone and chucking it inside.
“Renee,” he snapped as I walked out of the room.
I made it to the door and slipped my feet inside my boots before he grabbed me and spun me around to face him. “Yes, I attend stuff where loads of girls are. Yes, I know I spend too much time with the guys. Yes, I know all that might piss you off. But I can’t quit doing what I want to do just to make you happy.”
I looked down at the wooden floor, feeling the will to fight fall away from me like a dying wind. “I’m not asking you to do that.” I was merely trying to ensure he didn’t forget about me.
Silence fell, then he grasped my chin, tilting my face to look me in the eye. “About the birthday present, I’m sorry. I bet I’ll love it, I’m just hungover and grumpy as fuck. But I love you, ’kay?”
Forcing my best smile, I nodded. “Love you, too.”
I left him in the apartment, waiting until the doors to the elevator closed before allowing my shoulders and smile to fall.
The crowd was insane. Screams and shouts echoed through the stadium as the team jumped all over each other, sweat bouncing off their heads as they removed their helmets.
It was nothing like high school.
The lights, blinding. The noise, deafening. The atmosphere, drenched with excitement.
And as I watched the team march off the field, disappearing into the small tunnel that I guessed led to the locker rooms, I realized there’d be no more post-win or lose kisses.
He couldn’t run over to the grandstand, even if he wanted to.
My heart dropped. So many things I thought I wouldn’t miss about high school were already coming back to bite me in the heart.
Refusing to let melancholy seep into my already exhausted body, I stood and made my way outside, standing amidst the crowd of students and families who were either making plans for the rest of the night or waiting for the team.
Callum was one of the last to come outside, which didn’t surprise me. He liked a long shower after a game, and if we weren’t going to this party, he’d likely have gone home and taken another. With me. Though, that was before.
I was trying not to be bitter about it and said I’d tag along to the same party Kristy had mentioned as his teammates would all be going, freshman through to seniors. If he wouldn’t include me, I’d include myself. I trusted him—of course, I did—I just loathed that I needed to keep reminding myself of that alarming fact.
“Mini Mouse, you look tired.” Callum grabbed my cheeks, lifting my head to kiss me.
I kissed him back, uncaring of our audience. He was mine, and I was proud.
“Never too tired to congratulate you, superstar.”
He grinned against my lips. “I love you.”
Kissing him one more time, I stood back and grabbed his hand. “How did it feel?”
He shook his head, his smile unwilling to leave his face as we walked to his car. “Intense, amazing, and just … everything.”
“Everything,” I echoed, taking a seat when he opened the door for me.
He was caught by one of his teammates, and I smiled when they knocked on the window, waving at me, then wound it down.
“I don’t think you’ve met.” Callum jabbed a finger at him. “This is Paul; you’ll see him later.”
I eyed Paul a moment, and remembered seeing him at a party. He was gorgeous, white gleaming teeth against dark brown skin. “I’m sure I will. Nice to meet you, Paul.”
“My, my, Mike was right. She’s like a duchess or some shit, man.”
Callum snickered. “She’s got sharp talons; you’d be wise to remember that.”
I grinned, rolling the window up as they said goodbye.
“Mike’s going too, then?” I asked once Callum was inside the car.
“Yeah, he said he’d meet us there.”
He’d been over to our place once or twice since we’d arrived here, but other than that, I hadn’t seen much of him. He’d chosen to attend Gray Springs to stay close to his mom, who was apparently still a little unhinged and liable to keep swapping boyfriends if he didn’t keep an eye on her.
“What crap has he been saying about me?”
Callum’s smile faltered. “It was weeks ago. Some of the guys were asking questions.”
Sensing that Mike still got under his skin where I was concerned, I tried to ease the frown from his face. “A duchess?” I scoffed. “I’m kind of offended.”
“Pay the peasants no mind.” He grinned. “You know you’re a queen.”
I laughed. “Exactly.”
“Another,” Kristy cried, taking my cup and refilling it.
I drank, smacking my lips together after I’d drained it
. “Beer is disgusting.”
“You won’t care soon enough.”
And she was right.
I felt good. As though more and more weight lifted from my shoulders with each drink, the pressure vacating my chest. I’d drank a little here and there in high school, but never enough to get drunk.
“This blows.” I spun around, the room tilting a little, its occupants unrecognizable to me. “I’m gonna go find my guy.”
Pushing my way through the crowd, I squinted, peering, probably too closely, at any tall guy with dark hair. My stomach roiled, and suddenly, everything felt like it was suffocating me. Sweat dotted my forehead, and I swiped it off, walking toward the back door.
“Mouse.” Callum looped an arm around my waist as I descended the back steps.
“There you are.” I smiled up into his face.
“You reek of beer,” he murmured.
“You reek of sexiness. Let’s go find a room; there’s plenty of them.”
“Renee!” Kristy cried from somewhere behind me.
“Ugh, I can’t shake her.”
Callum squeezed me, chuckling. “Shhh, she’s coming.”
“Come dance,” Kristy whined, pulling on my hand. “Oh, hi Callum. Great game.”
“Thanks,” he said, letting me go. “Go. Have a little fun.”
“Staying with you is fun,” I argued with a pout.
He brushed my lips with his fingers, then leaned down, brushing them with his mouth. “Go on, I’ll be out here for a while anyway.”
I glanced around, finding most of the team outside. He would, which would probably be boring. Back inside we went, Kristy tugging me the entire way until I snatched my hand back. She changed the song while I got another drink, and an old R&B tune filled my ears.
“Oh, yes!” I threw my hands into the air, beer sloshing down my arm. “Gross,” I muttered, then promptly drained the cup and tossed it on the floor. Hips swaying, I took Kristy’s hands as I joined her in the middle of the room.
We danced, laughing when we almost tripped over our own feet or mixed up the words to the songs. I’d forgotten just how nice it felt to have a friend. Another woman to have fun with, joke around with, and spend time with. Even if it’d never involved this much alcohol before.
“Shake it, ladies!” one of the guys on the couches yelled.
I glanced over, seeing Mike sitting with some other guys I’d yet to meet.
After giving him a small wave, I turned and grabbed Kristy’s hand. “I need to pee.”
She pulled her hand away, dancing her way out of the room. “One more drink first.”
I ignored her. The room blurred as I vacated the crowded living room. I steadied myself on the dining table, wondering if I should take a seat for a little while, then decided I wanted Callum.
I made it outside, squinting into the darkness and gripping the railing of the long porch. A smile stretched my face as I found him in the back with a bunch of guys. Releasing the railing, I carefully made my way down the stairs when more people came into view.
Girls. Loads of them surrounding the team. Two of which were standing by Callum. No. I stopped, and someone shouldered by me. Not just standing around him, one was reaching up to touch his hair, running her nails through it and making his eyes shutter briefly.
The perfume, the time spent not with me, but elsewhere. Always elsewhere.
We wouldn’t be a cliché. Some young couple who’d made a stupid decision that eventually fell apart.
We couldn’t be.
And so I turned away before I saw any more, feeling my heart slam against my sternum with every sloppy step I took back inside.
The tears blurred my vision, but the urge to pee took over, and after one more drink, the urge to vomit, too.
“I think I need water.” I set the plastic cup down, swallowing and taking a few quick breaths.
“Don’t be a baby. We’re just getting started.” Kristy poured another drink from the keg on the table.
I had no idea how much we’d drank by that point. I’d lost count, which didn’t bode well. And it was clear Kristy was more accustomed to heavy drinking than I was.
“Not a baby,” I slurred, rising from the seat and cringing as my bladder raged. “Be right back.”
I stumbled down the hall, asking anyone who’d talk to me where the bathroom was. They all pointed at the end of the hall, which I couldn’t or refused to believe. The line was a mile long.
With a groan, I dragged myself to the stairs, clinging to the railing as I climbed them.
There really were a lot of rooms up there, I discovered as I opened closed doors, ignoring the curses from the occupied bedrooms.
Finally, I found the master bedroom, which was blissfully empty. Not that I’d have cared at that point. It had a toilet, and I needed that and some time alone more than my next breath.
I almost cried with relief, wobbling on my feet as I let my panties slide down my legs. Afterward, I struggled to right my blue and white swing dress, my head shaking to try to rid the dizziness. Once I thought I was good, I washed my hands, then stared in horror at my reflection.
“My God.” I patted my cheeks and tried to run my fingers under my smudged eyes, wincing as I poked my eyeball with a fingernail instead. It was no wonder he was looking elsewhere.
You could only stare at the same face, spend a certain amount of time with someone, and feel backed into a corner with no exit in sight for so long before you acted out.
Mike’s face appeared in the mirror. “Renee, you okay?”
I sniffed, trying to hide my breaking heart. “Help me, I look like a horse’s ass.”
Mike laughed, grabbing my hand when I spun around too quickly. “You’re beautiful, and you know it.”
I laughed too, shaking a finger at his face. “And you’re drunk, mister.”
“Nowhere near as much as you.”
“Touché.” I pulled out of his grip, teetering into the wall. “Ouch,” I grumbled, rubbing my arm.
Mike took my hand. “You okay?”
I looked up at him, blinking when his features doubled. “I think I drank way too much.”
“I think so, too.” He laughed, then sobered. “I saw. When you, um, walked outside earlier.”
Shocked, I let out a weird mix of snort-laughter, feeling utterly ridiculous. Embarrassed. “God, I must look so stupid.”
“No way.” Hands grabbed my cheeks. “Never,” he whispered.
Then his lips were on mine, and I was still laughing. The laughter was sucked back down my throat as his soft lips moved, trying to open my mouth. They felt strange, foreign, and I didn’t know how the hell this had even happened, which made me laugh again as I pushed him away. “Jesus, Mike. You can’t kiss me.”
He rubbed his forehead, looking pained. “Why not?” His eyes searched mine, his message loud and clear. Why shouldn’t he kiss me if Callum was downstairs, doing whatever it was he was doing?
It’s not attractive, this sudden insecurity.
“Can you keep a secret?” I asked Mike.
He nodded, lips tilting.
Indignation and anger burned within me, making my hands shake as I leaned closer and grasped his cheeks. “I’m sad and so fucking angry,” I whispered to his lips, my head swimming, eyes blurring.
“You can take it out on me,” he whispered back, lips now touching mine again. “It’s what we do, isn’t it?” A sad note of humor yet he was right.
It was what we did.
Maybe, I thought as my lips crashed into his and he pulled me toward the bed, there was a reason people stepped out on each other. Betrayed one another.
Maybe it didn’t mean you didn’t love someone anymore.
Maybe it simply meant you loved them too much.
I woke up on someone’s lawn.
Not really, but it was close enough.
“Dude, no,” I heard someone groan.
I tried to move my sluggish limbs off the lawn chair. The firepit was
blackened, and three of the guys were still asleep. Toby was actually on the lawn, curled up on his side.
“This was …”
“Messed up,” I supplied for Quinn, who nodded, shielding his eyes from the morning sun.
“Shit, did you guys sleep out here?” Mike asked, rubbing his eyes as he stepped out onto the porch.
“Sure did. Go hard or go home, motherfucker.” Burrows punched the air, then yawned.
“I think I’ll be going home,” Quinn said, standing.
Renee. Panic gripped my heart, causing me to follow him on unsteady legs to the door.
She was walking into the kitchen, her face paler than usual and a wobble to her step. “Callum?”
Relief slammed into me, strong and hard. I grabbed her, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I can’t even remember how the hell it happened.”
“That fucking beer is what happened,” Paul said, lifting his head from the kitchen counter he was hunched over. “Holy fuck. I need some fatty food, stat.”
“You okay?” I asked Renee.
“Yeah.” Her voice was a little hoarse, and she cleared her throat. “Can we please go home?”
“Sure. Later, assholes.”
Mumbles followed me in answer as we walked outside. “We need a cab.”
Renee fumbled in her dress pocket for her phone, calling one and telling it to meet us at the end of the street we were walking down.
“Where’d you sleep?” She didn’t typically stay long at parties, and hadn’t attended many with me. Though that was probably my fault.
“I woke up upstairs in one of the rooms,” she said quietly, too quietly.
“Are you mad? I’m sorry, I didn’t think it’d get so—”
“Out of control,” she finished for me.
“Yeah. I was a dick to leave you like that.”
“No, I’m not mad. Just tired.” With a sharp laugh, she said, “It’s my fault. I got way too drunk.”
I set a long exhale free. I knew I’d been an asshole lately. Waking up outside someone’s house unsure of where my wife had gone only hammered that home. I made a mental note to turn down the next party invitations that came my way.