Braxton

by Shayne Ford

  Her eyes soften, glistening with tears.

  “I told you this is so much more than hot, wild sex.”

  Her fingers slide to my face as we connect our lips in a soft kiss. She tastes like ripped strawberries.

  “What did he tell you, baby?”

  Her eyes narrow with a smile.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  I toss my head back, grinning.

  “No, no... Please don’t say that. He doesn’t want to tell me either. Why are you so secretive about it?”

  She rolls onto her stomach and crosses her arms under her chin, her eyes drawn to the ocean.

  “I’m not. It’s just that his words rang true to me and touched me deeply... And that’s one of the reasons I overreacted when I heard that both of you have plans to go away.”

  “Tell me. Please...”

  She gazes at me and lets me boil for a few more moments.

  “He thinks that this is the best time of our lives...” she says quietly.

  My chest tightens. I wish I didn’t, but I feel her fear, and his... and mine.

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Yes, I do,” she says.

  “What else did he say?”

  “He’s afraid he might lose you. He thinks I have the power to change you and tame your heart, and eventually pull you away from him...”

  “Would you do that?” I ask, slowly stroking her hair.

  A tear trickles down her face.

  “No... I love you the way you are... We both love the same thing in you...” she says and pauses before she continues. “Your wild heart.”

  JAGGER

  The house is quiet. Face buried in a pillow, Violet sleeps like a baby. I glance at the time. It’s two in the morning.

  I press my lips on her hair, roll off the bed, and slip into a pair of boxer shorts. Barefoot, I walk outside. The night unfurls silent, the light of a distant thunder lighting up the sky.

  I stride to the small bar tucked in the corner of the terrace, and pour myself a drink. Glass in hand, I head for the lounge chairs.

  A dark silhouette catches my eyes, and then the blue light of a phone screen.

  “Hey... What are you doing?”

  Braxton flicks his head up.

  “Lounging. You?”

  I chuckle.

  “Since when have you become such a smartass, Braxton?”

  “Since I hang out with you, Jagger.”

  “You want something to drink?” I ask as I plop on the chair next to him.

  He lifts up his glass.

  “Got it,” I say.

  I place my drink on the side table and look at him. A towel sits on his lap. His hair is damp on his neck.

  “Were you out there swimming?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yeah, alone. My friend has better things to do,” he says.

  “Are you still mad?”

  He takes a long breath and combs his fingers through his hair.

  “I’m not mad, Jagger. I can’t be mad at you.”

  “You looked mad today.”

  “I was hurt. That’s different from being mad,” he says.

  I take a swig of my drink and set the glass on the table again.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Braxton.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “You do what you have to do...”

  I curl my hand around his shoulder, and his eyes cut to me.

  “But see, that’s the thing, Braxton... When you and Violet hurt, I do too, and I don’t want that pain. All I’m trying to do is find a way, as you said.” He shifts his eyes away from me. “This will amount to nothing, if I don’t do something, or change something,” I say with a quiet voice.

  “What are you talking about?” he asks, looking back at me.

  I search his eyes for a moment. I think he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

  “It’s what you said today to Violet.”

  His jaw clenches, the emotions he’s tried so hard to push back flooding his eyes. Anger, frustration, and above all, immense sadness.

  A twisted smile clings to his lips.

  “There’s nothing you can do about it. Don’t fool yourself. It’s not in your hands. Nothing is.”

  His words hit me hard. His eyes stay on me as I push back my emotion.

  “You may be right, but I’m not ready to give up.”

  He breathes out a sad chuckle.

  “You may not give up, but the end is the same. Life flows the way it wants to flow. It’s like the ocean. It comes and goes. It sweeps everything out of its way, or it pulls everything in its way. We’re nothing but the broken shells, the grains of sand. You should know that better than anyone else. We practically live in the fucking ocean,” he says, swinging his eyes away, not fast enough not to see the glistening of tears.

  I toss the whole drink down, the alcohol burning its way to my stomach. Sadness pours in my blood with it.

  “Do you really believe what you told her today?”

  He turns to me.

  “Yeah... I really do. I think we stumbled into this, and as perfect as it feels, it will go away. It’s nothing more than a moment in time when everything lines up perfectly, making it possible, but I’m no fool. Life is in perpetual motion. What we’re living right now is an anomaly in a sense. It’s so hard to share something like this with one person let alone two. I have no doubt that it will go away, without us having a say. The same way everything else goes away. This thing will run its course. It’ll be shorter for me, longer perhaps for you, and in the end, there will be a price to pay...” he says.

  “What price, Braxton?”

  A soft smile drapes over his lips.

  “Don’t worry. Chances are you’re not gonna be the one who pays it...”

  “You can’t say that to me, man...”

  He shakes his head.

  “Do you think I fucking want to?”

  I stifle my retort and silence wraps around us, cold and harsh as winter.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that...” I say after a few long moments. My eyes follow his hand as he brings his glass to his lips and tosses it back. He doesn’t look at me. “This shouldn’t be the only good time of our life,” I mutter, without stirring the slightest reaction in him.

  “You know why this is so good, Jagger? Because we didn’t plan anything. That’s why. None of this would’ve happened had she not taken that plane to come to talk to you... Had you not given in to your wild taste for more... for having me in the mix... But don’t lie to yourself... You know what’s going to happen? We’ll go back to New York. If you leave, you’ll lose her, one way or another, so you’ll have to cave in, and you’ll be back in no time to be with her. In the meantime, I’ll go to the fucking school, and I’ll see you perhaps next year, or come Christmas time, or whatever... That’s what’s gonna happen, and all we are doing right now, trying to plan the future and whatnot is useless. You’re a smart man... You must know I’m right.”

  The more he talks the worse I feel.

  “What do you want, Braxton?”

  “Ah... What do I want?” His eyes bore into mine. “Are you really asking me that, Jagger?”

  “This is not about Violet, is it?”

  Without waiting for his answer, I push up to my feet, go to the bar and get another drink. I come back and slide onto the chair. The ice cubes clink as I gulp the whole drink before I plop the empty glass on the table.

  “You fucking know what it’s about. I’ve pleaded with Violet not to change you, but now that I think about it, you probably started to turn a long time ago.”

  “Don’t fucking say that, Braxton.”

  “You fucking did... I truly believed we’d do something different... live differently.”

  “You were the one who went to school.”

  His hands shoot up in the air.

  “Oh, come one... This is not about my school. I could’ve done anything. It’s not me who’s wa
iting for his trust money... I have enough money. We could’ve lived anywhere we wanted... This is about you... You wanted to prove something to me, perhaps yourself, and now to Violet.”

  “What’s wrong with that, Braxton? I can’t fucking be independent and feel free if I don’t have my own fucking money.”

  He shifts in his chair.

  “You could’ve made your fucking money, had you stayed there. Theoretically, you could still do it, and we would be far away from here, but now you can’t, can you?” he says, the frustration bleeding in his voice.

  Anger rushes through my blood.

  “It could’ve been you, Braxton... the one falling for a woman,” I say, my jaw tense.

  He flicks his gaze away.

  “Yeah, it could’ve been me, but it’s not, is it? So anyway... I don’t want to... I’m happy for you. It’s just that anything else we’ve talked about is nothing but a stupid dream... That’s why I said what I said to Violet... So, we’ll play it by ear and enjoy it as much as we can and for as long as it lasts, and if it makes you feel any better, I would’ve probably done the same thing... for someone like her.”

  I clasp his shoulder.

  “I don’t think it’s all lost. Things could go so many ways...”

  He smiles, but he looks hurt.

  “Let’s hope you’re right, Jagger... Let’s hope you’re right.”

  11

  VIOLET

  We fly back on a charter plane, courtesy of Jagger’s dad who has a friend who owes him a favor. We arrive Tuesday evening, later than I planned.

  I call Jonas and make up a story about another family emergency. Something tells me he doesn’t buy my bullshit, but he doesn’t comment, so I guess I’ll have to make up for my absence by putting in the extra hours he expects of me.

  A car picks us up and takes us straight home. Jagger pulls his Jeep out of the driveway as Braxton, and I, wait for him. He parks it in front of my home.

  They both lean against the car.

  “I’ll see you... tomorrow?” I ask, hesitant, stopping in front of Jagger.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Are you coming to work?”

  “Yeah... I think so,” he says tentatively, making me wonder how much longer he will keep this job.

  He tucks his hands in his jeans. Braxton stands next to him. They train their eyes on me, and for some unexplained reason, I grow restless.

  “Okay... I guess I have to go,” I say reluctantly.

  Jagger snakes his arm around me and locks my lips.

  “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep,” I breathe in him.

  He smiles and says nothing. I curl my hand around Braxton's neck. He leans in and gives me a soft kiss while I’m still in Jagger’s arms.

  My body melts into a puddle.

  “I’ll see you, Violet,” he says with a husky voice.

  “I’m so fucked,” I say, only half joking, and they grin.

  “In a good way... we hope,” Braxton says, and glances at Jagger who kisses me again, this time loving my lips a little longer, his tongue dancing lasciviously with mine.

  We tear away, both flushed. He winks at me before they jump in the car. He turns it around, and they drive away.

  The sound of the car engine fades out as I stroll toward my house. Silence and dimness drape over my place. I barely reach the stairs when a silhouette pushes off the wall and walks into a patch of light.

  Startled, I jerk back.

  “Brad?!”

  He throws me a glare that makes my hair bristle, his expression filled with utter disdain. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything and make a scene in front of my house, I dash to the door, unlock it and show him in.

  I turn the lights on, leave my small travel bag on the floor, and toss the keys on the kitchen island.

  “Close the door,” I bark with a voice he’s never heard before.

  I stride to the fridge, open the door and scoop up a bottle of water. I slam the door and turn to him. He stands in the middle of the room, his hand slowly rubbing his eyes and brow as if he’s suddenly grappling with a migraine. Either that or he can’t stand to look at me.

  He finally tilts his head up and shoots me a stern look.

  “What was that, Violet?”

  I remove the cap and gulp down water, my eyes glued to him.

  “What was what, Brad?”

  “What was that... outside? With those men...”

  His eyes go down on me.

  “And what the hell are you wearing? Were you on a slut cruise?”

  My lips purse slowly, stretching a wicked smile.

  In six years of marriage, I’ve only heard him swear twice. Both work-related circumstances. I draw satisfaction out of that, but the condescending tone of his voice rubs me the wrong way.

  His eyes stall on my body, examining the ripped low-rise jeans and the corset style top, my breasts over-spilling out of the soft cups.

  His eyes shoot up at me, furious.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  I take a long breath, place the bottle on the counter, and fold my arms over my chest.

  “Listen... Brad. You’re in my home. Uninvited. I truly owe you nothing. If you don’t like what you see, then why the hell don’t you get the fuck out?”

  His hands shoot up in the air.

  “Jesus, Violet! Who are you?”

  His eyebrows arch in surprise, his eyes widening. He breathes fast as if he’s about to have a heart attack.

  I’m really not interested in seeing him grappling with the new reality.

  “Why are you here, Brad?” I ask, cold.

  “Why am I here? Tanya asked me to stop by and talk to you... bring you back to your senses. It’s Tuesday evening. I expected you to come from work, not from some rendezvous, dressed like a slut. Are you their whore, now?”

  The words hurt more than I’d like to admit, but the anger is stronger than my sadness.

  “They gave me a lift from the airport,” I say dryly.

  “Where were you, anyway?”

  “Cleveland. I visited a friend from college.”

  “Ohio... college friend... This is the first time I’ve heard of that. You’ve never been to Ohio.”

  “There’s a first for anything, Brad. Don’t you think?”

  “And you couldn’t get a car to pick you up?”

  “They were in the area,” I say, pushing back a chuckle.

  “Is that funny to you?”

  I turn my back to him, unable to hide my snicker.

  “When did you become this irresponsible person?” he asks.

  I swivel back to him, and speak slowly, calmly.

  “You don’t know anything about me, Brad. And you know why? Because I never knew anything about myself. I had no idea who I was, especially when we were together. I was always the person you and mom, and everybody else expected me to be.”

  “And now you know?”

  I stare at him, cold.

  “I may not know everything, but I’m well on my way to finding out.”

  “Your mom is not going to be happy with what I saw tonight.”

  Tossing my head back, I throw him a defying look.

  “Is that what this is? You, spying on behalf of my mom? Are you fucking serious?” His eyes glint dark, and for a moment fear rushes through my blood. “Go ahead and tell her. I don’t give a shit, and while you’re at it, tell her what a good man you were and how you’ve bedded your future wife behind my back.”

  He lunges at me and stops only inches away from me, his teeth gritting, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

  “You fucking slut! How dare you pass judgment on me, when you’re nothing but a pathetic whore who can’t keep the itch between your legs under control. I can’t believe you’ve ended our marriage so you can go out there and fuck.”

  I don’t bat a lash.

  “As oppose to what? Being discreet, finding someone of my liking and fucking behind your back, the way you di
d to me?”

  His hand shoots to my neck.

  I shove my fists into his chest.

  “Get out!” I snarl.

  The blow makes him lose his balance briefly, and then he straightens his back and grabs my neck again, his hand tightening, his eyes looking crazy.

  My air supply gets cut.

  Choking, I prop myself on one hand while trying to push him back with the other.

  A loud thud comes from the door.

  “Take your hands off her!” the voice thunders, drawing his eyes to the door.

  The next moment, his head flops as he gets rammed, and thrown to the floor. Jagger curls his hand around his neck, pressing his knee on his chest.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Brad? She’s not your fucking wife anymore!” Jagger barks.

  Braxton’s hand comes to my face.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod softly, tears rolling down my face.

  “Let him go...” I say to Jagger, rubbing my neck.

  The sight of Brad crumpled on the floor brings bile to my mouth. Jagger pushes up to his feet as Braxton hooks his arm under Brad’s armpit, yanks him up, and drags him out the door.

  “What the fuck happened?” Jagger asks.

  “He saw us...” I mutter and break down in tears.

  “Why did you let him in?”

  “He was angry, and I didn’t want him to make a scene in front of my house. I never thought he’d react like that. He’s never touched me or cursed at me before.”

  The door opens, and Braxton strolls inside.

  “He’s gone,” he says. “I can call a cab, man. You don’t have to drive me home,” Braxton says.

  “It’s okay...” I say, touching Jagger’s arm. “You can go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I say, wiping tears. “What made you come back?”

  “We were about to enter Long Island Expressway when it dawned on him he’s never seen that car parked in front of your house... That’s how he figured out something was wrong,” Braxton says.

  Jagger cuffs the back of my neck, his lips brushing my temple.

  “Call me, if you need me. All right?”