Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology

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Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology Page 35

by Anthology


  “It’s not cheating when we’re both okay with it. Henry’s a dumbass. He should’ve talked to you first, but take this as a way to explore your sexuality.” Suzanne lightly touches my arm, “you can always join us, you know.”

  Shaking my head I step away from her. “How is this okay?”

  “It’s the life we live. A strong woman doesn’t stay hurt for long. She gets even. Remember, those other women are the appetizers, but he’ll always come back for the main entrée.” She winks, leaving me alone in the hall. I can’t move, and my eyes don’t move from the door.

  Hide your emotions.

  Always smile.

  Support the one you love.

  Have a family.

  Never stray, even when you want to.

  Divorce is not an option.

  I hear my mother’s words playing in my head. She’s right. I now understand what she told me while growing up. Flashes of my childhood come back to me. Each time my parents argued, Dad came home with a gift for her. As long as she was being spoiled and taken care of, everything he did was okay.

  Is this my life now?

  Cam

  THE GARAGE DOOR CLOSES, and I hear movement coming from downstairs. I put down my Kindle, looking at the bedroom door. Since the night of the gala I’ve been staying away from the world and keeping my head in my Kindle. At least while I’m reading I can escape from reality and live through the beloved characters I’m reading.

  The sound of his feet walking up our hardwood stairs echoes through the quiet house. The dark hallway captures his shadow, slowly approaching. His careful steps, the ones meant to ensure I don’t wake up, are calculated and wary. Little does he know I’ve been awake. I don’t sleep very long anymore. A few hours here and there.

  It’s been a month since the gala. Henry doesn’t know that I know about his infidelity, and he won’t know. Let’s say I like this whole ‘getting even’ thing. My closet looks prettier and bigger. He doesn’t say anything when I get the credit card from his wallet. We’re rich. He can afford it. Since he’s out getting what he wants, I’m doing the same. A woman needs lots of beautiful clothes, shoes and accessories when she’s screwing over her husband.

  Our bedroom door opens, but I don’t turn around to face him. The screams inside me threaten to release, but I stay quiet. I always stay quiet. It hurts knowing the man I love, the man with whom I vowed to spend my life, is out doing God knows what with God knows who.

  Our sex life is nonexistent. And if we do have sex, which is rare, I make him wear a condom. He hates it, tells me it doesn’t feel right, but I don’t care. I’d love to respond with, ‘Well, being cheated on doesn’t feel right either,’ but I refrain from doing that.

  Unfortunately, it’s not entirely his fault. I can walk away whenever. I choose not to. The life of luxury is a life I’m not willing to give up yet. Sure I have money, but spending someone else’s is so much better.

  I turn away from facing the door. It’s nearly two in the morning, and he’s coming home. He’s coming home to me, yet I don’t want him here. Some women are okay with their husbands cheating on them as long as they come home every night. What did Suzanne say to me? He can have appetizers elsewhere, but he’ll always come home to the main entrée? Sadly, I’m turning into that woman — looking away, accepting his infidelity.

  There is no end to the excuses I hear. Usually he tells me he had to work late in the office with Martin or that he was out with the guys blowing off steam. One time he said he fell asleep in the office. The excuses don’t matter to me. Sometimes I want to tell him to not tell me because I don’t care. Anything that comes out of his mouth is a lie. Yet, I’m staying with a man who is cheating on me because I don’t want to leave him. Divorce is nasty and a battle I don’t have time to deal with right now.

  Since starting at Sharp Security, I’ve had the best time working for Sharp, though I’ve never met him, and being around Natalie and Taylor. They keep my mind off the shit I have to deal with. Honestly I’m working so much that the only time I see Henry is at night.

  He slowly crawls into our bed after discarding his cheating, disgusting clothes. I wonder whose pussy he was in tonight. Was she prettier than me? Skinner? Bigger boobs? A bigger ass? Does she let him fuck her mouth? It doesn’t matter who she is because in my mind she’s a toothless, hairy woman with boils and warts covering her body.

  I hate having him lie next to me on our bed. The bed we bought together. The bed we sleep in. The bed where he holds me. But now this bed stands, as it is, just a bed. The love is gone, and it signifies a king-sized, cold mattress resting on a cherry oak bed frame with the quote ‘Remember, you are my happy ending’ because at one time we were in love. So madly in love. But losing a baby, being unfaithful and falling into a dark hole changes things.

  “Camila,” he starts to say. I cringe when he uses my name. “Wanna fuck?”

  I turn over, looking into his eyes, the ones I used to get lost in. I don’t see what made me fall in love with him. I see nothing. Yet, I’m still here, waiting for his next excuse. “Henry, it’s late.”

  He kisses my cheek as his hand finds my breasts. “Come on, I need you.” Pulling himself over my body, I hear the ripping sound of the condom wrapper. Good, he remembers. He slides off my panties and slowly enters me. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re tight. Do you want me to keep going?”

  “Okay,” I whisper, wishing him off me, but I know I need this too. Plus, it’s just sex. There’s nothing between us. While he’s fucking me, I make a mental note to add laxatives to his protein shake in the morning and take his card to go on a little shopping spree. This girl needs a new Gucci purse and maybe new shoes. Natalie’s birthday is coming up and I told Taylor I’ll plan it, so maybe throwing her birthday dinner at Next Door Bar and Grill will be perfect. There’s so much I have to do. I hope I don’t forget.

  “Try to relax.” He leans down kissing my neck, his cock pumping in and out of me. “Oh Cam, I’ve missed you,” he says in between his ragged breaths.

  Our bodies move together, but they’re not connected the way they used to be. There’s a force between us not allowing me to enjoy this rare moment with my husband. Closing my eyes I think about a time when my body was set on fire with the most erotic and sexy feelings surrounding me. The feel of his heart beating with mine as his lips travel down my body, kissing every inch, telling me he loves me. This is what makes me wet. This is what makes me moan and scream, begging for more.

  “Are you about to come, Sweetheart, because I am?” Before I can answer Henry lets out a loud moan, while I lay there, unsatisfied. “Oh, that was amazing, Sweetheart.” He kisses my lips before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

  Looking at the time I calculate we had sex for about five minutes. I close my eyes and finish the job he can never complete. When I reach the point of pleasure, I see his face and it reminds me he’s the only man who can bring me the exquisite pleasure of fucking and lovemaking. But then he disappears, just like every other time.

  Rolling over on my side, my eyes train on the bathroom door. I rush out of bed and quietly go in. Keeping my eyes on the shower curtains, I slowly kneel down and reach into his chino pocket taking out his phone. I slide the unlock feature, inputting his password, and going straight to his text messages and call log.

  Nothing.

  There’s nothing weird, but then again he could’ve deleted the calls and messages. Sliding the phone back in the pocket, I look inside the other for another phone. Usually cheaters have two phones, but not this cheater. Straightening, I creep out of the bathroom and back into bed. The nagging feelings won’t go away. For now I have to shut it out and smile. No one can know what I’m really feeling. No one will understand.

  When people look at me, they think she’s the girl with everything. She’s the girl with the successful husband, the mansion in the bluffs, a nice car, beautiful clothes and a smile that’ll bring any man to his knees. I’m the girl who gives to charities a
nd volunteers at the children’s hospital because I want kids to feel special. But if you really look at me you’ll see a girl trying to fight through the pain and stay above the water. There are so many times when my lungs fill with water, and I can’t breathe. Somehow I find the strength to fight through it and move on. I’d like to think I’m happy, and the choices I made in life have been right.

  There are always two choices with each decision. The best thing I can do is hope I picked the right choice, but sometimes when faced with the wrong decision there are two things you can do: take that to your advantage, or change the situation and break through it. Here I am taking advantage, but it’s only a temporary happiness.

  Forever lost.

  That’s what I am. Sure I have the luxuries women dream of, but the only good things in my life are my friends, Beverly, Dylan, Natalie and Taylor. They are my stable ground, and keep me busy so I don’t have time to think about what’s going on in my personal life with Henry.

  I look at Beverly and Dylan and try not to get jealous. They’re getting ready for their first born, my goddaughter, Gretchen Rose. I’m so happy for them, but a piece of me is envious. Henry and I were trying for a baby, but for now I’ve placed that on hold. We have one more IVF appointment, and I don’t want to cancel it. A part of me does want to be a mom. Sure, I wish my husband wasn’t a cheating asshole, but as long as I get a child and I have his money, we’ll be fine.

  So while my husband, the successful infertility doctor, works and creates miracles for other couples, I’m left in the dark, alone. When I’m alone, my mind goes to the good place, a place I sometimes visit when I need a boost, but I always come back terrified. It’s a place where I’m happy and everything is where it should be, but then I come back to reality and remember people always leave. They say they’ll be with you forever, but that’s a lie. No one keeps their promises anymore. It doesn’t matter. I’ve been through enough in my life that nothing surprises me anymore.

  I’m not weak though. Being weak means you can’t handle stress, that you let your emotions run your thoughts and actions. You take action before thinking and later regret it. You say something before thinking and later wish you could take it back. When you’re weak, you let the world crumble and walk all over you. You stay in the dark and cry because something isn’t going your way. I’ll stand on two feet and handle whatever life throws at me. I smile in the crowd and hold in my emotions. Everything inside me is a bottle. I won’t explode. I won’t fall.

  I won’t fall.

  • • •

  THE NEXT MORNING, Henry and I get out of bed and he takes me in his strong arms. I let out a breath and close my eyes. I will myself to be happy and believe him, to believe he’s not cheating on me. If I tell myself this is enough I’ll eventually believe it.

  My hands travel up and down his back, making my way up to his shaggy, brown hair. Playing the part of his loving, devoted wife is easy, but with these moments all I can think about is kneeing him in the balls and stepping on his dick with my Louboutins.

  Slightly pushing away, his eyes focus on my chest as I breathe in and out. His hands cup my face. “What’s on your mind?”

  I need to tell him I know what he’s been doing, and I’m okay with it, but I have my own set of rules. “I need your credit card,” I sweetly smile. “Gucci came out with a purse that I must have, and I’m thinking I need some more clothes.” Still smiling, I hold out my hand, tilting my head. “You want to keep me happy, right?”

  “Of course. Anything for you.” He hands me his Visa and kisses me on the cheek. Might as well get what I want before slapping him with divorce papers.

  He kisses me again, so soft and gentle. “I miss you.”

  We stand like this for a while, until I give him one final kiss and tell him I’ll get his protein shake ready for him. Heading downstairs, I push out those thoughts and focus on what I’m going to do today. I make Henry’s breakfast protein shake, thinking about our little moment upstairs, wondering if he has any idea I know what’s going on.

  Taking out my phone, I send Beverly a text asking her if she’s free. I need my best friend with me while I shop.

  Cam

  SITTING AT THE COMPUTER, I stare at the email from my PI, Matt. Cutting into my delicious seared sea scallops, I take a sip of my Pinot Grigio, and click on the email. Running my hand through my hair, letting out an exasperated sigh, I push aside my food thinking about how to respond to his email. Frustration and anger course through my body. “Where are you,” I whisper, expecting an answer, but never getting one.

  I’ve been on the search for Ayden for so long. He has to be here somewhere. So far there hasn’t been anything about him. I’ve hired the best PI and still nothing. I respond back to my PI, hoping he’ll get the message.

  Matt, keep trying. FIND HIM! I pay you good money. I need answers, and I need them now. Please!

  Pressing send, I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes and seeing his smile. I always see his smile. Sometimes I feel him near me, and I keep my eyes closed because I don’t want to wake up and face reality. I haven’t thought about Ayden since leaving Atlanta after my parents’ funeral, but now, after finding out about Henry, he’s all I think about. Everywhere I go I wonder if I’m going to run into him, which would be impossible, but I’m still hopeful.

  “Thank you for letting me love you, Baby.”

  “Ayden, I’m the one who should say thank you. You’ve given me so much, and I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say that one day we’ll be married and have our forever.”

  “I promise.” Lifting his right pinkie finger to my left pinkie finger, he connects them. “You’re so cute, Ayden,” I laugh, pulling him down to me. Our lips meet, and it’s like we’re kissing for the first time. So sweet and gentle, full of love. I’m lost in his kisses as his tongue expertly explores my mouth. Little moans escape, and I can’t help it. I want more. I need more. Lifting my hip up, his breath hitches.

  “Not yet, baby.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” he starts to say, slowly drawing a heart on my cheek while looking into my eyes. “When you give yourself to me we’ll be in a romantic setting, not the back of my beat-up car. You’ll be on the softest bed, at a five-star hotel. I’ll have rose petals with candles surrounding the room. I’ll have time to cherish every inch of your body and remember that moment because it’ll be the best moment of my life. Feeling you, connecting with you,” he closes his eyes, “I’ll wait for that perfect moment.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  A knock on the door brings me back to the now. “Come in!” I yell, knowing it’s Beverly.

  She comes in, all pregnant and cute, sitting down on the couch looking at me. She kinks her brow, staring at my computer screen. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  I shrug, “I don’t know. Because I need to know.”

  “Why?”

  Getting up, I throw my hands in the air, “he left without a word, WITHOUT ONE WORD, Bev. When you love someone, you don’t pull that shit. Nothing makes sense! I’ve played that night in my head over a million times. He said to meet him at 9 o’clock on the bridge. He never showed up. And then his phone got disconnected? Come on! Something’s not adding up.”

  “Listen, I get it. I think about him all the time, but you can’t live in the past. Move on and try to be happy.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “But you don’t know. You’ve been trying to find him for years! Move on, Cam. Do something with your life instead of wishing for the past and leave Henry! I don’t know why you’re with him.”

  I smirk, “I like your new Michael Kors purse.”

  She hugs it to her body, “Well, besides that. You can’t do this forever you know. You’ll have a closet full of Gucci, Prada and Louis Vuitton and for what? To be in a loveless marriage?”

  “He loves me,” I mutter, knowing that he does. Why else would he still be wit
h me?

  “Love doesn’t make you do these things. Sometimes I wish Ayden were here so you wouldn’t be like this, but he’s not and you need to get over that, Cam. I know I’m being a bitch and you wanna punch me. I’m your best friend, and this is me being real with you.”

  I sigh, throwing myself onto the couch next to her. “I get it and I know you’re right, but I have to find him. Matt’s the best, and I can’t give up. I need answers, answers only Ayden knows.” The familiar tightness in my chest returns. I get what she’s saying, but I’ll always want to know what happened. There are so many unanswered questions. How can he fall out of love with me? Did he love me at all?

  Getting up from the couch I walk into the kitchen and pour myself another glass of wine.

  “Cam, it’s only noon.”

  “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere, Bev.” Bringing myself back to the living room, I sit down next to her, curling my legs underneath me. “Hungry?”

  “Of course! Eating for two!”

  Touching her tiny bump, I smile, so happy for my best friend, but devastated I don’t have a baby of my own. “I’ll whip us up something good.”

  “Can you bake brownies?” She pouts her full pink lips, batting her long lashes.

  “All right.” Trying to hide my smile, I head into the kitchen and start whipping up lunch and dessert for us. I can never say no to her.

  Pulling out a box of pasta, and filling a pot with water, I lean back against the counter remembering Ayden and his love of my chicken pasta salad. Dazing off, I hear his voice in my head.

  “Best salad ever. When we get married you can make this for me all the time.”

  “Married?”

  “Yep. I’m gonna marry you one day, Baby. Believe it.”

  Sobs try to escape my chest, but I shake my head and swallow them, along with the memories, for now.

  Monday mornings suck. Plain and simple. Walking into my office with my Starbucks latté in my hand, I turn on my computer and wait for it to load hoping I don’t have too busy of a day today. My head’s still spinning from the martinis last night with Natalie. I keep repeating to myself I’m not 21 anymore, but I don’t listen to me.

 

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