The Reckoning

by S. L. Scott

  “First of all, Dalton doesn’t waltz, but even if he did, I wouldn’t just let him back in that easily—emotionally or physically. But I can’t keep him out of the house and I kind of don’t want to. I need to hear what he has to say, but I can only do that when I’m feeling good and strong. Maybe after dinner or at least after another meal when I’m not so stuffed. Oh and he cooked me breakfast and he doesn’t cook, ever. But he did for me and the baby.”

  “That sounds very thoughtful, Holli.”

  “I know. That’s the problem. He came back and he’s like a different person, but somehow is still him. You know I’m weak to him. Remember Vegas?”

  “I do remember Vegas.” She starts laughing. “Maybe different is good. I mean maybe he’s realized his mistake and he wants to make up for it.”

  Sighing, I peek out the window. “He’s been teasing me all day, dilly-dallying around the property, checking on things like the sprinkler heads and gutters. Just super normal things that he doesn’t usually do. Oh,” I say, completely offended, “And he’s shirtless.” Damn those abs and biceps. I lift up on my knees. Did his shoulders get broader?

  “Well, well, well, Mrs. Dalton.” Another loud laugh is heard. “It’s hot out there today.”

  I snap, “It’s not that hot. He’s teasing me on purpose.”

  “Or tempting you. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You sound pretty damn weak right now. I think his evil plan is working.”

  Dropping my head against the cushion, I reply, “I know. I told you. I’m so weak. Send some backbone my way.”

  “I don’t have any to spare, but I do have the final contracts for the card line.”

  “That’s a positive. I’m behind on those by the way.”

  “I know. I also got you an extension.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey Hols?”

  Dalton drops down into the grass and starts doing pushups. I roll my eyes, but return my gaze even faster. “Good God, that man!”

  “Holli?”

  Her screeching tone brings me back to the call. “Huh?”

  “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. This isn’t about the rest of the world. You and Johnny, what happens between you is only between you two. Don’t let the media run your relationship anymore. Talk to him or let him talk to you, but talk.”

  She makes me smile. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  “Do. For you and that baby. Now go enjoy your weekend and see what happens next.”

  “I’m on pins and needles myself, wondering exactly that.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you too, Trace. Thanks and we’ll talk soon.”

  “Bye.”

  After hiding out in the room for an hour, I decide to spend time reading in the backyard. When I walk into the living room I catch a glimpse of him through the window and stop to watch. With a measuring tape and spray paint in his hands, I can’t tell what he’s doing, but it’s intriguing, so I stand off to the side so he can’t see me and stare.

  My gaze slips down like a sweat bead caressing each of his muscles. I gulp and then bite my lip. He sure didn’t let himself go when he lost himself. From head to toe and back again, I enjoy the view and even linger a few moments on his strong jaw. He’s always had that sexy, cut jaw line. Articles have been written about it. I’ve licked it, sucked it, and kissed it too many times to count. I take a long shuddering breath, my whole body remembering what it’s like to be with him.

  I drop down to his tattoos, admiring the tiger one on his chest that I’ve enjoyed in very dirty ways. But something else catches my eyes. I do a quick checklist of his tattoos. Hula girl. Forty-four for Hank Aaron. Texas Flag. Three .45 Colt guns over his ribs. The tiger covering his heart and an unrecognizable one in the center of his chest. Mother of Zeus… Ugh! He got another tattoo while we were apart. Furious, I grab his shirt on the way out the door.

  Stomping toward him, I say, “What have you done, Dalt… I mean Johnny.” Damn it! I’ve been trying to call him by the name he seems to prefer these days. My slip. My bad. I take a deep breath and try to pull myself together.

  “What?” he asks, looking up, so freaking innocently.

  I point at his body. “What’s that on your chest?” Then I gasp, covering my mouth with my free hand. “Did you… You got—”

  Looking down, he points to his new tattoo. “I got your name right over my heart. Some think the heart is on the left side of the body, but it’s actually right in the middl—”

  “I know where the heart is, but why’d you get my name tattooed? That’s permanent, you know,” I say stupidly, still dumbfounded.

  “You were always with me Holliday. I could feel you. I just couldn’t touch you.”

  My lips part and I suck in a breath since he stole mine away seconds earlier. It’s hard to stay mad at someone when they say such amazing things, but I must. I throw the tee at him and say, “Put on a shirt!” I walk back inside and huff as I lean against the counter. He’s playing hardball with this shirtless, tattoo business. If he keeps going like this, I’m gonna have to cause some trouble of my own.

  Before I have time to put any retaliation plans into action, four men show up with boxes and lay them on the lawn. I toss the push-up bra and extremely low-cut shirt I was going to put on for Operation Counter-Tease Attack, and instead run to the kitchen window to spy on them. What is he up to? I have no idea what they’re building, but I’m getting mad that they’re messing up the lawn.

  I stay seated with a bowl of soup in front of me and watch them like I’m watching TV. An hour after they start, I stand up when I realize what’s happening. “For fuck’s sake!” I storm back outside. Dalton waves at me, a huge smile on his face, an electric screwdriver in his hand. His shirt is off again and thoughts of romance novels come to mind as I imagine the dirty things I want to do to him right now. “Come here please.”

  He walks over, wiping the sweat from his hairline with his forearm. Gah! He’s too sexy for his own good and mine. “Hi,” he says so innocently.

  “You’re building a play-thingy?” My heart melts just a little saying it out loud.

  “A playscape.”

  “I figured, but why?”

  “For the baby. We don’t have a park or anything nearby, so I thought I’d create one here for him… or her?” His voice goes up at the end as if I’ll actually answer that. “And because I wanted to do something for it.”

  Rubbing my stomach, I snap, “It’s not an ‘It.’ ”

  “I don’t know what we’re having. I’m sorry. I’m new at this.”

  “That’s because you’ve missed it all.” But even though I feel that way, I suddenly remember to leave some of the armor behind and say, “I don’t know what we’re having either, but I know it’s not an it!”

  I turn to leave, frustrated I even bothered to come out here, but he grabs my hand and says, “No matter if the baby is a boy or girl, the baby will be loved.”

  “Will it?” My anger slips out so easily and I hate that, but I can’t help wanting to hear more of his declarations. His touch feels too good and I selfishly stay.

  “I’m sorry, Angel. More sorry than I’ll ever be able to express through words. I want to ask you for forgiveness, but I can tell you’re not in a place to give that to me, so I’ll try to earn it, even if it takes forever. I screwed up. It was a hard lesson to learn, but when I heard you had disappeared, all of that, all my problems seemed trivial in comparison. I was driving cross country and suddenly realized that everything I thought I was looking for was here all along. I haven’t shown you how much I love you and this baby, but I promise I will.”

  The grin that greeted me in Vegas in that corridor shows up and I soften, just a little to the notion of our being together again.

  He says, “Everything I need is standing before me wearing a Foo Fighters shirt that looks like the one Dave Grohl gave me three years ago at my party down on Sunset. And even though it makes me fucking insane seeing you wear another
bands shirt, I understand that everything I own, you own, so I’ll let you take the jab at me because I deserve it.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks and I take my hand back from him. Looking down at the shirt which has a large photo of Dave Grohl smiling on it, I feel that maybe I do want to have our talk sooner than later. The guys call him over to inspect something. When he turns back, I say, “Guess you need to go.”

  He sounds disappointed. “Yeah, guess so.” He revs the electric screwdriver and that makes me smile uncontrollably.

  As he walks backward away from me, I say, “Just so you know, the shirt wasn’t a jab. It was just the top one on the pile. I’m still partial to The Resistance.”

  With an arrogant grin shining across his face, he takes a chance, “What about me? Are you still partial to me?”

  “Don’t push your luck, buddy,” I say, laughing.

  His screwdriver rests against his chest as he feigns a hurt heart. He revs it again and I roll my eyes because that man is utterly ridiculous. I walk back into the house with a huge grin on my own face. Even if I tried to wipe it off, I couldn’t, so I let it stay just a little while longer, enjoying its return.

  “One domino falling leads to a million more following in its path. The effect is more damaging than the initial action.” ~ Johnny Outlaw

  While the men wrap up the job of building the best playscape to ever be built, I decide to make dinner. When he bought the stuff for breakfast, he also bought other food that filled our fridge. I wanted something healthy after the big breakfast and the snacking I’d done all day, so I bake chicken and roast asparagus. When I look out at one point, Dalton is paying the men. I finish making the salad, then walk outside with a glass of water.

  “Looks good,” I say, holding out the glass… maybe it’s a peace offering. My emotions are all over the place these days.

  “Is that for me?” he asks, a devious smile wanting to escape.

  Pushing it forward, I tease, “Yeah, yeah. Just take it.”

  He comes over and takes the water. Standing closer than he has since that first embrace the night before, he whispers, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I walk to the swings and sit down. “Is this safe?”

  “The safest. I made sure of it myself.”

  And I know he did. That is the Dalton I love and married. I push off, my feet catching in the warm grass. I’ve not allowed myself to get sentimental with him in fear of what I’ll find out, but as I start to lower my guard, I need some answers before I’m left vulnerable by a surprise. “Tell me about Ashley.”

  He empties the glass, obviously thirsty, and sets it down on the table before joining me by the swings. “So is this it?”

  “Maybe we’ll take turns confessing our sins.”

  “Where do you want to start with her?”

  “The hospital.”

  Coming up behind me, he takes my swing by the chains, pulls back, and releases me. “Tommy found out she signed in using your name. He had told them you were coming. She used that to get into the room.”

  I squeeze the chains tighter. The anger building inside that my name, my married name was used in such a way. “She sounds like a stalker.”

  He keeps me flying in the air, just enough that my feet are off the ground, but not enough to make me sick. It’s quite nice actually regardless of the topic of conversation. But my swing stops, surprising me. His hands hold the chains as he settles me. Moving so he’s standing in front of me, he kneels down, touching my knees. “I’m about to tell you something, Holliday, and I need you to hear me out.”

  My defenses go up, but the wall I’ve been trying to build to protect my heart is full of cracks. I strike back though all I want to do is hide from the truth that’s about to be told. “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “I’m asking you to hear me out.”

  I stare at him, not wanting to be hurt again, but not wanting to go on like this either. This is it. This is the moment when I decide which fork in the road to take. There was never a real decision to make. I’ve always known we’d end up right here one day. “I’m here, Dalton,” I whisper, crossing my arms, protecting what’s left of me. “Say what you need to say.”

  “I didn’t sleep with her.”

  I start breathing again.

  He adds, “She tried to kiss me.”

  “And?” My hands start sweating.

  His eyes dart away and back to me, making me question his honesty. “I touched her.”

  My blood boils from the images racing through my head, my hatred for her at an all time high. But when I look at him, my heart starts to break from the betrayal. “How did you touch her?”

  “How I shouldn’t have.”

  I push back on my toes and untangle myself from the swing. I walk to the end of the structure, holding it for support and stare out over the vast property.

  He adds, “Nothing happened.”

  Whipping around, I yell, “You just said something happened!”

  “It didn’t happen like it sounds.” Standing, he steps toward me.

  I move quickly around the pole, keeping it safely between us. Tears don’t come, not this time. “Tell me what happened then. Tell me the truth and let’s get this out now.”

  “I was drunk—”

  Raising my arms in the air, I look up. “Ohhh, you were drunk. That just explains it all then, right?” Turning my back to him, I say, “Tell me everything, Dalton. I want to know.”

  As much as I wish I had more time to prepare for what I think I might hear, he’s so open and starts talking too soon for that to happen. “She was wearing this robe, but it was open. It was right after New York and the hospital.”

  I stand there staring at the man I love, loved… still love with all my soul as he confesses his sins to me. I’m left speechless, my mind awash in a misery of images of the two of them together. I grip the wood behind me even tighter waiting for him to tell me the dirty details.

  He sounds disconnected even from himself when he says, “I thought I had lost you. I thought—”

  “I know what you thought. You told me all about it in an apartment full of people. You accused me of sleeping with someone else. You thought our baby was his. I get what you thought, but you were still wrong and I still paid the price for your misconception. This baby has paid the price and now you’re telling me what I feared. You acted out of spite. You acted recklessly. So when you were ‘touching’ her, you took a risk even though you knew what you were doing was wrong.” Closing my eyes, I rub my face with the palms of my hands, knowing I shouldn’t ask for more, but I do anyway. “Tell me everything that happened between you.”

  “I’m not sure this will do either of us any good, Holliday.”

  “Now you’re giving up? There’s suddenly no talk needed?”

  “I will tell you everything, but I don’t want to hurt you more than I have.”

  “You’ve already done the damage. You made a choice when she was throwing herself at you and you chose wrong. So just tell me, damn it!”

  Reluctantly, he just lays it out there for me, “She straddled me and tried to kiss me. I didn’t and then she tried again… she took my hands and placed them on her body where she wanted me to touch her.”

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I say, “You said you didn’t have sex.”

  “I didn’t. I wouldn’t have.”

  “Why stop there? Your hands were already all over her body.”

  “My vows.”

  “Our vows ran through your head when your skin was touching hers?” I spit, “Not likely.”

  “Yes, what I promised you when we got married. I said I would love and cherish you and I never stopped. How could I be with someone else when I said I would honor you?”

  “So touching is all right per our vows, but going further is your hard limit? Apparently I’ve been doing this whole married thing wrong if those are the rules. So you were touching her and then our vows came to mind?”

  “Y
ou called. I heard it ring. I saw your name. I kicked her out, but you hung up. That’s the full story.”

  My breath is heavy in my chest. I’m unable to speak to him reasonably. I try to calm the storm inside and try to remember when I called him. “I called you when you were in London. So what you’re saying is you only kicked her out because I had a moment of weakness.” Arching my eyebrow, I say, “Well don’t expect that to happen again.” I start for the house. “I’m leaving. Don’t bother coming back to the house in LA. I’m sure Ashley will be more than happy to take you in.”

  He takes this argument up a whole other notch when he roars, “I’m not letting you leave!”

  I stop, taken aback by the harsh threat. How dare he! With my hands on my hips, I turn back, not willing to take his shit like everyone else does. “What do you mean you’re not letting me leave? You have no say in where I go or what I do anymore.”

  “Yes I fucking do. I’m your husband—”

  “Not for long.” I regret it as soon as it leaves my mouth.

  In slow motion, he drops to his knees, all life draining from his expression as he stares back at me.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t take my eyes off of him. It starts with the minutest shake of my head and goes from there. I run to him. My mind is a chaotic mess. My thoughts are only of him and fixing the damage I just did. By the time I reach him, he’s bent over, sucker punched by my disregard for the words coming out of my mouth a moment earlier. Whispering, I begin to cry, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” My apology loops, my words just as chaotic as my thoughts. I try to touch him, but he moves away from me. “Dalton… please…”

  “Please what?” he asks with his head still down. When he looks up, I see the disappointment, the pain, and his spirit is broken.

  “I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t.” My eyes are flooded with tears, regret, and a love for him I don’t know if I can salvage.

  A sickness washes through me and I get lightheaded. With my arms over my stomach, I look down, blinking hard. My mouth dries and I close my eyes as I try to swallow just as a sharp pain shoots through my body, forcing me over in anguish. “Ow!”