Tightrope: Tightrope Book 1

by Maddie Wade

  “But I want your baby,” I said as my voice broke on a sob.

  “And I can’t think of anything worse,” he spat, losing his temper, and throwing the pencil. He turned his head awkwardly to look at me. “Just go, Alex,” he said using a name I hated.

  Pushing up off the bed I crossed to my dressing table, the one I had lovingly restored because I had known it would be perfect for this room, and grabbed my make-up and brushes, adding them to my bag of clothes. My toiletries and hairdryer were next. Zipping the bag closed, I had one last thing to do before I left.

  Moving to my jewelry box, I took a huge, shaky breath and swallowed the tears that burned the back of my nose. This felt like a death. In some ways, it was worse than Dean having the stroke. Because when that had happened, I knew what we had was strong, it was pure and could get through anything.

  Oh, how wrong I was. Our love was nothing but an illusion, a paper thin translucent film that couldn’t withstand the storm that was disability with constant trips to the doctor and that was what hurt the most. Because I had tried so hard to be what he needed, but I had failed.

  Slipping my gold wedding ring off my finger, I stifled the sob that tried to break free. I placed the rings in my jewelry box and closed the lid on that part of my life. Dean didn’t need a wife any longer. He has made that clear over and over, but it was only this time that it sunk in. What he needed was a friend and I vowed that once the pain had worn off that was who I would be.

  I would start the next part of my life and move on because that was what I did, I wasn’t a quitter. Walking down the stairs I ignored the happy, smiling wedding pictures that hung on the wall and moved to the front door. With my hand on the handle, I paused. I couldn’t, despite what he had said to me, walk out and just leave him without saying goodbye.

  I walked into the living room and he was still sitting in the chair by the window, even as the light faded, and the afternoon became cooler. His back was to me and the sight of him bent over his sketchbook was so familiar it made me feel lightheaded. The desire hit me to run to him and throw myself at his feet, beg him to take back his words, to love me again like he had.

  My pride stopped me. My pride, and the realization that it was not all my fault. Sure, I’d made mistakes, but I was twenty-eight years old and had no idea how to deal with the hand we’d been dealt. But I had tried my hardest to be a good wife and I was angry with him for not understanding how hard this had been for me.

  “Dean,” I called again and waited as his back stiffened before he turned.

  “Yes?” he clipped. His eyes didn’t meet mine and I wondered if it was regret or anger that had him not meeting my eyes.

  “I’m going now, but if you need anything, the numbers are programmed into your phone,” I said softly. He did look up then and I had been right. His eyes were haunted by anger and bitterness but also regret. But I hardened my heart. He nodded, and I turned for the door, my hand was on the handle again when his voice stopped me.

  “Lex,” he called, and a flood of hope swept through me at his words and I stopped, hoping he would beg me to stay. Tell me he had taken it all back, that he loved me, and we could make it work.

  Swiveling I faced him. “Yes?”

  His face had softened, for a fraction of a second hope bloomed. “Don’t forget what I said. If you want to make me happy, go find another man to fulfill your needs and have a child with him. I have no need of you in that way.” His tone was so cold and clinical, it was as if he had told me the lightbulb needed changing in the kitchen.

  I wanted to run to him and claw at his face to show him what his words did to my heart. I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me, but I did none of those things. No, I was my father’s daughter and I was proud, so I straightened my spine and looked him in his beautiful moss green eyes before replying. “I heard you Dean and don’t worry I will carry those words to my grave,” I hissed. “For the record, I tried my best, but it takes two to make a marriage work and only one of us was trying.” I would not break down, I would not shed another tear. My marriage was essentially over, but I would survive. I had survived worse.

  My spine stiff, I walked out the door closing it softly behind me. I would not see the ravaged look of pain that moved across Dean’s face and I would not see the tears he shed for the words he had said to me.

  I was going out with my best friend tonight and Cherry always had the ability to make me feel better. But even she would have her work cut out tonight. My husband had told me to fuck other men and if I wanted a baby, then I should find a willing man to do the deed. And I did want a baby, I wanted to be a mother with a bone-deep need that made my empty womb ache.

  But he wanted me to do the fucking deed like it was nothing and I hated him for making me feel like a weirdo for wanting a child. But even before today he had told me that he would never father a child with me, not since he’d been told that Hypercholesterolemia Familial was genetic and could be handed down to any child he had.

  I understood that, but he had made me feel as if it was all me and that it was a trivial need when it wasn’t. It was a yearning that nobody could understand unless they felt it. I spoke with him about adoption and he turned up his nose. He did want a child, he just didn’t want to father it. So, I let it go and my empty arms with the ache in my heart was my private cross to bear.

  Dean, however, did not let it go. He nagged me incessantly about it, trying to goad me and push me until today I hadn't seen it. He was trying to tell me he didn’t want me and I, stupid idiot that I was, had been too stubborn to see it.

  Today my eyes had been opened in no uncertain terms and I saw what he had been trying to tell me for months. It was over, and our marriage was done. So, I would live my life as if I was single, but I would not leave him. I would be his friend, because before we were lovers we had been friends and I missed him. What I wouldn’t be any longer was his unpaid slave. He’d lost any right to my care when he’d turned his back on me.

  Pulling into the space in front of Decadent Design I put the car into park and climbed out. Rain was starting to fall, and a cold chill that had not been there earlier today swept the September air. It reminded me of one of my favorite songs—September by Earth, Wind and Fire, and it brought a slight smile to my eyes.

  Running to the front door, I shoved through and was immediately met by the warm feeling of the shop. Warm peaches and creams on the wall created the perfect backdrop to the pieces we held. All of them were restored or designed by Cherry or myself with hours of love and sweat put into them.

  The floor was warm, walnut wood and shone, reflecting light onto the art around the room. That was done by a new artist that neither of us had met and they signed their name JSB. We didn’t even know if the artist was male or female, but we didn’t care. The pieces were beautiful and selling faster than they could paint them.

  Mirrors hung throughout and added space and depth to the room that made it feel larger than it was. I loved it and no matter my mood, I always felt a sense of pride when I walked in here. We had built this from nothing, working from my parent’s garage until we had taken a loan to start the shop. It had been a huge gamble and a lot of work, of which Cherry had carried most of the weight.

  I had put in what hours I could, but I never knew how Dean would be, so her dedication and friendship had allowed me to be part of this and still be there for him. For all the good it had done me.

  Pushing that thought away, I glowed in the joy this place brought me, it was now turning a decent profit. Certainly, enough to keep my head above water and still have little left over for a rainy day. I was proud of us. We had done it.

  “Cherry,” I shouted as I dumped my bag behind the till and walked out the back. It was time to plan the rest of my life.

  Chapter Four

  Lexi

  “Oh, honey, what an ass. I knew it had gotten bad, but not this bad,” Cherry cried as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “What will you do?” she asked softly
. I shrugged and lifted my head from her neck where I had been using her as a pillow as I told her about my conversation with Dean.

  “I’m going to do what he wants. I’ll carry on living in our home, but we’ll live as friends. I would never abandon him,” I stated with absolute certainty and I wouldn’t. Regardless that he had behaved like a complete bastard to me, I still had feelings for him. Whether they were the correct feelings or not, I wasn’t sure anymore.

  “And what about what he said about sleeping with other men and having a child? I can’t believe he would ask that of you.”

  “I’m not ready to move on and jump in the sack with another guy. Honestly, I can’t see me ever trusting one.”

  Cherry nodded and bit her lip, a habit she had when she was thinking. “Don’t bite my head off, but maybe you should think about moving on completely. This half-life isn’t good for anyone and he’s being completely unfair to you. In all honesty, I could smack him upside his thick head,” she fumed as she stood and started to pace.

  That was the thing about Cherry. If I was hurting she was like a lioness. Why she hadn’t been taken off the market already I had no idea. Well, except my lovely friend was a commitment-phobe and had turned down three marriage proposals already, breaking the poor guy's hearts in the process.

  “But if I leave he won’t cope financially. And this is Dean, my sweet Dean who left notes in my locker every day for two years. The same Dean who worked every day in Walmart during the holidays so that he could save and take me to Paris when I turned twenty-one. How can I walk away? Even if he’s being a douche bag right now! No. If he wants us to be just friends then I’ll have to get used to it. I don’t like it, but I will adjust in time.”

  I let out a sigh as the words settled around me. I felt as if a weight had lifted and wondered if maybe Dean had said what I should have. I wouldn’t have a baby like this though, even if he wanted one. It would be too confusing for a child and was frankly selfish.

  “Well, if you’re sure? " Cherry asked as uncertainty crossed her pretty, delicate features. I knew she had more to say, but thankfully she let it go, for now. My friend never lets anything completely go, she's like a dog with a bone when she had a point to make.

  “I am,” I said with finality. “Now can we please stop this depressing shit and talk about something fun. Tell me all about that guy you’ve been sexting? He sounds hot!”

  “Well, in that case, get your ass up because we’re going out and getting drunk.”

  My grin split my face. She really was the best friend anyone could have. She never allowed me to get down and if I did she pulled me out of it. “Cocktails or Jimmy’s,” I asked referring to our favorite bars.

  “Both!” she grinned as she stood tugging my hand. “Come on, let’s go get our hair done. I’ll see if mom can fit us in.” That was the other great thing about Cherry. Her mom was awesome. She ran the local beauty salon, so we always got our hair done for free. In return, four years ago Cherry and I re-designed her salon as a surprise, we even did most of the work ourselves. It was hard, but totally worth it to see the look on her face when she came back from the cruise she had taken with her sister.

  Following my friend, I let the depressing situation I found myself in leach from my thoughts. Tonight would just be about fun, something I hadn’t allowed myself in so long. I realized now I had become a stick in the mud.

  Rubbing the naked knuckle of my ring finger, I wondered if Dean was okay. He had been the center of my world for so long that I couldn’t just let it go and leave him to fend for himself as much as I wanted to. But for my own sanity, I had to try and that’s what I would do. After all, I wasn’t his mother or his caregiver and both of us needed to see that, something told me Dean was going to have the biggest shock, and it served him right.

  Cherry and I sat side by side in Darla’s beauty salon, as I watched Darla in the mirror as she painted the color onto my hair.

  Cherry was having her normal baby pink color touched up. In the process they, (‘they’ being Darla, Cherry, and Frankie—the very camp male stylist and friend that worked for Darla) had talked me into a change. That change is a royal blue color that was put through the under a section of my hair.

  They wanted me to go the whole hog and full blue, but I had resisted and conceded to a wide section underneath, that would just peak out. Now, as it was being painted on I wondered if perhaps I had lost my mind.

  In college I was the wild one, but as I got older that side of me had been buried under bills and responsibility. It made my heart race to see the wild girl re-emerging. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t wild-wild. I never did drugs, except perhaps a bit of weed and I only drank on weekends, special occasions, and maybe the odd weekday party, but I didn’t cause my parents any problems.

  As I looked at my tired skin and the dark circles under my eyes, it dawned on me that I had lost myself. I hardly recognized the woman looking back at me. How had this happened? But of course, I knew how. It happened from hours spent caring for the man I loved and building a business.

  My clothes hung from me, and I thought I looked ill. Was this why Dean didn’t want me? Had I let myself go?

  I felt my mood shift again as my emotions swung from depressed and exhausted to furious and angry. But now I was feeling something else, something different. It was rebellion. I wanted to shed the woman in front of me and bring back the fun, slightly wild girl I had been.

  With defiance, I looked at Darla. “Can you put some of that color through the sides as well?” I asked, and her face beamed.

  “I sure can, sweet pea,” she drawled in her Southern Belle accent. I never tired of listening to it and had tried to mimic it a thousand times as a young girl. It had the soothing tone of hot cocoa.

  “Woohoo, she’s back.” Cherry smiled as she caught my eye in the mirror. I laughed with her.

  “Well I don’t know about being back, but she is waking up,” I responded as I leaned back and let Darla work her magic.

  *~*~*

  “I can’t believe how different I look,” I sighed as I flipped my head this way and that, making my shiny, blue/black hair swish and shimmer. Darla stood behind me her hands on my arms as she rested her chin on my shoulder. She was still a beautiful looking woman at fifty-eight. I often wondered why she hadn’t re-married or dated anyone, but when I asked Cherry she just shrugged and said her mom wasn’t interested.

  Personally, I had a feeling my friend was wrong. Her mother still had the figure of a much younger woman and I had seen men half her age looking at her. So, she either didn’t notice or chose not to.

  “You look stunning sugah,” she grinned.

  “You really do, Lex,” Cherry said, her voice soft as she looked at me. I knew she had been worried about me and the look in her eye seemed relieved. I regretted the worry I had put my friend through.

  “If I was into tits and ass and not so fond of long juicy cock, I would totally do you,” Frankie said outrageously.

  “Frankie!” Darla scolded while Cherry and I burst out laughing.

  “Well, it’s true! I mean, look at her. She’s beautiful, and any man would be tripping over his tongue for a taste of her.”

  “Frankie, stop talking,” Darla reprimanded with a finger pointed his way. This was how their relationship had been from day one. Darla was like a second mom to him and Frankie reveled in it. Frank was a good-looking guy in his early thirties with bleach blonde hair and blue eyes, a slim muscular build, stunning smile, and the kindest heart.

  He also had no filter from his mouth to his brain and an obsession with all things sparkly. He didn’t talk about his past with us, but from what we understood, his family was military and didn’t approve of his lifestyle. Bigoted assholes. They didn’t know what they were missing, Frankie had quickly become one of our circle and we loved him.

  Still, I felt the blush creep over my cheeks at his words. “No offense, Frankie but I think I’ve had enough of men.” His grin turned devilish,
and he put his arm around me as we walked to collect our things. “So, you’re coming over to the dark side?”

  “Uh, no. I think maybe a nunnery would be a good fit for me.”

  “Girl, you would not last two seconds!” Cherry stated with a belly laugh. She was probably right. I had a healthy libido that had been put on a four-year time out. Maybe I would get back in the saddle one day, but I would never give my heart away again. No. That was being locked in a vault never to see the light of day again.

  Chapter Five

  Lexi

  Walking into Jimmy’s later that night, I felt a knot of nervous excitement in my belly. Jimmy’s was a typical locals place with the vibe of a city bar. The dark wood of the bar was mirrored on the floor, and mirrors behind the bar gave the illusion of light in the dark space. The back wall was filled with booths, crammed full of couples and groups of friends who were drinking, laughing, and generally having fun. The bar which ran along the left side was two deep with eager people waiting for a drink.

  You see, Jimmy’s had gained some notoriety a few years back when rock legend Eddie Crow had stopped in a done a set. Eddie was the biggest name in the music industry right now and his career had just been taking off then. Cherry and I had been here that night. The atmosphere had been electric as he had taken a seat on the small stage and done an acoustic set. His deep, beautiful voice soothed the soul and dampened the panties of all the women—and some men—around him. Cherry had even managed to get an autograph, although she always dismissed it when we spoke about him.

  Anyway, the set had gone viral after someone posted it online and Jimmy’s had become an instant hit.

  Slipping through the throng of people we wound our way to the front and tried to catch the eye of the barman. There was a time when I knew everyone in here, but not now. The only person I recognized was Jimmy as he sat at the end of the bar with a paper in his hand and watched the patrons as they were served by his hip young staff.