Because (Seven Year Itch #4)

by Jennifer Foor

  It’s after ten when I hear the back door opening. I’m on the couch, impatiently waiting to attack. He tosses his keys on the kitchen tables and walks into where I’m sitting. As soon as our eyes meet I turn off the television to give him my undivided attention. It’s also to prevent him from being distracted. I want to see the look on his face when he explains where the hell he’s been all night.

  “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” I ask.

  “What?” He seems confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Where were you tonight?”

  “I told you earlier. I had a meet and then we went out for dinner and drinks. Are you drunk?”

  “No, but I can smell the liquor on you from a mile away.” He stunk. Plain and simple. “I tried to call you earlier.”

  “It was loud in the bar we went to. They had a band playing.” He makes his way to the couch to sit next to me. I scoot over to give him more room. I don’t want his closeness to distract me from what I want to say. “A female answered the phone. She said you were dancing.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ. Not this shit again. I’m not in the mood to argue with you tonight, Shay.” He stands back up and starts leaving the room. “I’m going to bed. When you chill the fuck out maybe you can join me, but if you’re going to keep being a bitch just sleep out here. I need to get up early for work and don’t feel like hearing you whine all night.”

  I feel defeated, but also determined. He’s not going to get out of this conversation so easily. “Oh no you don’t.” I follow behind him. “I want to know why some random chick answered your phone and said you were dancing. What is going on, Bran? Tell me the truth. I’ve sat here all night thinking the worse. I need to hear you say it.”

  “Say what? What is it you think I’ve been doing?” He laughs as he says it, like it’s all some joke to him.

  “Were you with her? Are you seeing someone? I know you’ve talked to girls online. I know the password to your Facebook account. Was it one of those girls? Just tell me.” I start to cry while still speaking. “I need to know the truth. Is she beautiful?”

  “You’re being ridiculous again. Why can’t you stop this?” He shakes his head and throws his hands in the air. “I’m done. If you can’t trust me to go out with my colleagues then there isn’t hope for this marriage.”

  “Is that how you really feel?” I need him to say it again. We’ve mentioned this while fighting in the past, but never acted on it. If this is truly how he feels I want clarification.

  “Pretty much. I’m done, Shay. Why don’t you go out and find someone you think can give you what you want, because it sure as hell can’t be me. It’s not worth it anymore. I’m tired of the bickering. I’m sick of you accusing me of doing things. Yeah, I sent a few messages to people, but I haven’t…” He stops and pauses for a second. “I don’t owe you anything. Just find somewhere else to go. This isn’t working and you know it.”

  My lips are trembling and I feel like I could pass out at any minute. I’ve waited for him to say this to me, but now that he is, I’m losing it for other reasons. Brandon is throwing in the towel. He doesn’t want to be married to me, and I don’t know if I can blame him. I’ve pushed him to this point. “I don’t know where to go,” I manage to get out.

  “Go to your parents. They’ll let you stay with them until we can get things figured out. I’ll do what I can for you, but I can’t afford to pay for two places. We’ll share the responsibility of Ab. I don’t want this to hurt her anymore than it already will. I think if we’re apart we can get along better. It’s obvious being in the same house isn’t getting us anywhere. We need a breather. Honestly, I don’t even know if time can fix what’s wrong with us. You don’t trust me. You never have. I can’t take it anymore, Shay. I’m sorry you’re upset. I know you love me, but I’m done walking on eggshells.”

  I’m bawling. I can’t stand to hear him talking like this. He’s shattering my heart into a million pieces. I want to yell, to scream and punch him until he changes his mind, but I can’t move. I’m stuck there, looking at my husband and wondering how in the hell it has come to this. When did our love become something neither of us could stand anymore.

  Brandon doesn’t stick around while I contemplate what to say next. He goes into the bedroom and shuts the door behind him, only opening it to toss me an extra blanket and my pillows. I don’t make it into the living room with my things. I collapse onto the floor in the hallway and sob.

  My marriage is over. I’ve provoked it. Even if he was having an affair, I don’t think I want to lose him. How pathetic, right? I’d rather live with a cheater than know he was free of me forever.

  This was not the way to fix our problems. It was how to escalate them to be irreparable.

  Chapter 7

  It was the last straw; the nail in the coffin. I’m not even going to mention how I’d gotten pulled over by a cop not even a mile from my house for swaying. Luckily, I’d only had two beers, so I didn’t blow over the legal limit to get locked up. It was enough to scare the shit out of me, of course only making me more frustrated when I walked in my house and got the third degree. I suppose I should expect it now. I can’t recall the last time she didn’t give me hell after coming home late.

  As I sit up in our bed I hear her crying on the other side of the door. I’ve given her a pillow and blanket, but she remains. Does she want me to hear her? Is this on purpose?

  It’s killing me.

  She thinks I don’t love her anymore.

  She’s wrong.

  My love for her is different than when we were teenagers. It’s changed, grown even, but at the same time it’s damaged. We’re damaged.

  I try to tune her out. I don’t want to give in. If anything she needs to learn a lesson. I want to scare her so she stops with the madness, though I fear it won’t help. She’s adamant. Shayla doesn’t approach change well. I suppose we’re both the same in that category.

  Tonight’s accusations were uncalled for. I know who answered my phone, but she never said a word to me about my wife calling. I want to be able to tell Shayla who it was, but I know it will only cause another fight. I’ve kept the truth from her on purpose, because I know what she’ll assume.

  Once again I’m stuck with having to push my wife away to dodge a bigger fight.

  It’s been fifteen minutes and she’s still there, her sobbing is breaking my heart. I run my hands over my face. I’m annoyed, but sad. I hate the idea of causing her pain. This isn’t how I want to teach her a lesson. I can be a dick, but this goes beyond that. More than anything I want to hold her. I know if I do, she’ll assume things are going to change. I take a few deep breaths before standing and walking toward the locked door. When I unfasten the latch and open it she’s crouched in a ball in the corner, her hands covering her face. Slowly she peers up at me. “Come to bed, babe.” It’s all I say. I don’t want to talk to her. I still can’t look at her without being angry, so it’s the best I can do.

  I don’t wait to see if she’ll follow. I know she will. As I climb into bed I hear her making her way to the other side of the mattress. I turn my body so I’m not facing her and pretend to ignore her. This isn’t an apology. I still don’t know where we stand, but for the time being I want to sleep, and it can’t be done if she’s crying outside the room.

  For a while she’s quiet. I try my damndest to go to sleep, but I’m burdened. Her constant sniffles only let me know she’s also awake. I adjust in the bed and face in her direction, only to find she has her back to me. I know I should refrain from offering support, though it’s hard to know I caused this. My hand rests on her shoulder. She shifts and faces me, her eyes are swollen from crying. “I’m sorry,” she’s able to get out.

  I lift my arm and allow her to cozy up closer to me. Once again we’re right back to where we always end up. This vicious circle is killing us, yet we can’t seem to end the loop. “Just try to get some sleep,” I suggest.r />
  “I don’t want to lose you, Bran, but I know you’re right. That’s why this hurts so much. I know we’re doomed.”

  It hurts me too, but I’m too tired to get into it with her. I want to go to sleep so I can rationally think. I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I’m exhausted, so I refrain from saying anything at all.

  Shayla falls asleep shortly afterwards. She’s still in my arms, and I’ll keep her there. She fits here, and I wish it’s where she can stay. Pain rips through me when I think of losing her. It’s agonizing to picture our daughter having to suffer from our inability to get along.

  It’s the middle of the night when I wake up because I’m sweating. Her hair is stuck to the side of my face, so I adjust to be able to push it away. She moves but doesn’t wake. It’s dark in the room. My eyes focus and I look at her. She’s peaceful. She’s beautiful like this. It takes me back to the first time we were together and how full of life she’d been. She was what every guy in high school desires. She made me want her, and I don’t regret it. I know my friends were envious I got to hit it. They lived vicariously through my relationship.

  I remember when she told me she was pregnant. It was like a kick to my stomach. We’d been careless, but I never expected her to want to keep the baby. I still don’t know how my life would have turned out if it hadn’t happened. Don’t get me wrong, I will never regret having our daughter. She’s my angel and I’m blown away by the love she brings to my life, although there’s always that wonder in the back of my mind. Shayla and I wouldn’t have lasted. There’s no way. Even though she was different back then, I know I would have gotten bored. It’s just the way I’m wired.

  My hand reaches over and runs over her lips. Her eyes flutter open and she’s staring right at me. Her emotional state makes me weak. There’s only one way I know how to fix this. I need her. I want her.

  My face narrows in on hers. She doesn’t pull away, so I kiss her hard. She’s trembling from the start, and a part of me sets out to make it stop. It’s agony knowing this is the way it has to be. I’m sleeping with the love of my life; my enemy, the only person in the world who will destroy me, and I can’t hold back. I want to fuck her until there’s nothing left to fight about. We need to let go. It’s the way it has to be. Nothing good will come from this, but I continue, because I know a part of me will never be able to stop.

  I’m struggling to keep it together. This kiss is more emotional than I want to admit. It’s like she’s throwing stones at my heart with every stroke of her magic tongue. Her hands intertwine with mine. I’m blown away by her ability to captivate me when I’ve promised not to allow this type of connection. She’s devoted to me, and I crave it. It’s never the right time to do this, not for us. We’ve been down this dark road, the one that leads to nothing good. Why we keep taking this same route is beyond me. I can’t explain and I don’t want to. I’m hungry for resolution; a temporary fix.

  She’s the candy I couldn’t have as a kid. She’s the danger I was told to stay away from. I’m blown away by how I feel when I’m inside of her. As I struggle with my own conscience, she releases one of my hands and shoves hers down my shorts. It’s cold as it grips my cock. A chill strikes me, though her kisses soothe it away. She’s getting in to it. I feel her pushing me so she’s able to climb on top of me. I shove her shirt up until she lifts both hands to free it from her body. She unfastens the back of her bra and I toss it away, silently wondering why she’s kept it on in the first place. I cup both of her supple tits, pinching her nipples until I hear a tiny whimper escape her. She’s rocking her body overtop of me, content on letting this happen between us. These past couple of days are the most we’ve been intimate in months, but it only reminds me why it’s been happening. We only fuck when we fight. This is how we solve things. Intimately, in bed, naked.

  I try to force her to let me on top. I need to flip her over and have my way. She grits her teeth and holds her position. “No. Not this time, Bran.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because, I want you to look at me. You need to look into my eyes this time.”

  I get off so much easier when I’m behind her. It’s better. It’s tight and I like the way it feels when I use her hips to hold on to, but I’m content with this, at least at first.

  I haven’t been inside of her in a while. I watch her stand up over me and take off her pants and underwear. There’s nothing sexy about it. In an instant she’s naked and waiting for me to remove my boxers. I shove them down and let her get them off my ankles. Her cold hands run over my knees and up my thighs. I know where she’s headed, and I’m not going to stop her. I love the way my dick looks when it’s surrounded by her plump lips. She licks from the base, her eyes watching me the entire way. My cock jumps and she moans. She takes one tit and rubs the nipple over the head. I don’t know which one of us likes this more. I groan and stare as she raises her breast to suck between her own teeth. I throw my head back, unable to watch without wanting to cum all over her pretty face. She knows this makes me crazy, so she does it again, finally coming up to kiss my lips. This side of her is rarely seen. She thinks I’m not attracted to her, but it’s dark and she’s more open this way. That’s why I always turn off the light. I know she’ll give me her all if I do.

  I can feel her pussy taunting me. She’s wet, because it’s not ripping my skin. Instead, it slides. She’s positioning me without touching it. I use my hands to grab her tits and pull them close. I need to suck on her rock hard nipples until she cries out. I use my teeth and yank back. She licks her lips and leans forward until her tongue is brushing over mine and her nipple. If I was already inside of her she’d come apart, so I don’t waste anymore time. This is enough foreplay. I jerk my groin and wait for her to slowly lower herself onto my cock. We both makes sounds as I fill her walls. She’s tight, yet soaked with anticipation. I keep playing with her tits, pinching her nipples and watching her lick each of them. She’s riding me with precision, but I need more. I lift my ass off the bed and signal I want it rough. I slap on her left ass cheek and feel her pace increasing. She’s riding me like a wild stallion and I love it. Our bodies are slapping together, she’s so wet I can feel it running down my balls. My hands take hold of her hips and I work against her rhythm. The friction sends her over the edge. She falls against my chest and we kiss hard, like she’s hungry for it. Her tongue teases mine. She’s not letting me have it, so I fight harder. When she gives in I feel her walls pushing me out. She’s coming undone and it’s turning me on. I want to fill her with all the animosity I have built up. I hold her as it begins to happen. I need her to stop moving so I can handle it. She moves gently anyway and I explode.

  Normally she’ll get up and grab a towel or a shirt to put between her legs to sleep, but she doesn’t move. Instead she cries again, except this time I can’t ask her to stop. I feel like I’ve failed. Being intimate hasn’t helped her cope. It’s only made it worse.

  Now I feel like shit again, and I know a round two won’t help, so I hold her tight and let her get it out. I imagine this being the last time we’re together and it bothers me. I shouldn’t have told her to leave. It’s not what I want, not entirely.

  Forced to be a family, I’ve done my best without losing every part of me I recognize. That’s my wife’s problem. She’s not the same person, not in any way.

  The person sleeping next to me is like a stranger who snuck her way into my bed. It hurts me knowing I don’t like who she’s become, because I know the old Shayla would have been someone I could appreciate being around.

  She wants to dominate me, but I won’t allow it. I can’t. I refuse to change from the man she fell in love with.

  Before I can fall back asleep I head into the kitchen and pull a piece of paper off the grocery list so I can jot down a note for her to find in the morning. She needs to know when I get home tonight we’re going to sit down and figure this out. I’m done waiting for it to magically happen on its own.

  Shay
la,

  I don’t want to fight anymore. We have to talk about this like adults. No more fighting. No more makeup sex. I’m willing to listen.

  When I get home from work we’re going to sit down and talk about this. We owe it to Ab, and to ourselves.

  Love- Brandon

  Chapter 8

  I read his letter three times before folding it up and putting it in my purse. While Aberdeen gets ready for school I’ve packed up some of my things. Brandon may have thought we’d made up, but I knew better. We couldn’t solve our problems under the same roof. We were only adding fuel to a fire that should have been extinguished long ago.

  I’ve kept a straight face for my daughter’s benefit. I don’t want to tell her what’s going on until it’s the weekend and she has time to recuperate. I wouldn’t want her teacher burdened with the aftermath of that type of news. She is going to need support for sure, but I want for it to be me at least the first couple of days.

  I watch her step onto the school bus before gathering my things. It only takes a few seconds for the tears to start pouring out. I’m a mess. Driving is going to be difficult. I haven’t even called my mother to warn her I’m on the way. I’m not sure I want to get into it this early in the morning. She’ll tell me to suck it up and go home. My mom isn’t the best person for advice. My father can do no wrong in her eyes. They’re stuck together like glue and assume every relationship should be as prosperous. Every time I consider telling them my problems I feel like a failure. They expect more from me. Sadly, I’m done being someone’s punching bag.

  This isn’t about leaving Brandon and breaking up my family. It’s about finding the person I once was; the person I long to be again.

  The first step is separation. I can’t look at him without feeling angry. Even when we’re together I feel deserted in my heart. The sex we’d had the night before only reminds me I need to free myself of his hold. I’m far too comfortable with letting him have his way with me. I crave his attention, even when its in vain.