Dirty Forever (The Dirty Suburbs Book 8)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Pulling in a breath, I run down all the things that were said at our counseling session this afternoon. Keeland listens intently, only offering a nod and a thoughtful hmm here and there. By the time I'm done baring my soul, I'm three beers deep and up to my eyeballs in agony.

  Frustrated, I slam a fist into the bar. "What the hell do I have to do to win this chick back?! I'm getting desperate. I'm about to choreograph a dance and belt out a freakin' Justin Bieber song to her! Help me out, man!”

  Keeland laughs but I’m more serious than I’ve ever been. I just want to make my wife remember what it was like when she was in love with me and I was in love with her. Is that too much to ask?

  "Have you tried listening to her? Being her friend? ‘Cause it seems to me that you two might have a communication issue." Keeland wears a sage look on his face.

  "Thanks, Oprah. But it really can't be that simple."

  "Sounds like you've been suffocating her with your expectations. You expect her to feel a certain way instead of just letting her feel the way she does and supporting her. So naturally, she lashes out against you, arguing with you all the time. And what do you do in response? You turn to your work, stop spending time with her. You can’t expect her to react well to that.”

  The rightness of Keeland's word penetrates my thick skull. I've got to talk to my wife and I've got to listen to her. Maybe it is that simple. How did I not realize that? How could I be so dense?

  "Jeez, Master Kee. When did you turn into such a sappy guy?" I tease.

  He teases right back, hitting a known soft spot. "When I started banging your sister."

  I growl, punching him in the shoulder. "Watch it, man!"

  He laughs as I slide off my stool. "Stop minding my business and go get your wife back."

  He doesn't have to tell me twice. I'm already halfway out the door.

  Chapter 30

  Grace

  Serenity hands me a box of tissues. “Thank you,” I whisper as I wipe my eyes and nose.

  I’m a blubbering mess right now. Mostly because I’m afraid that Daniel’s right. Maybe blaming our problems on his overworking was just an excuse that allowed me to hide from the real issue.

  The therapist is quiet for a long time but the look on her face tells me that she sees right through me. Eventually, she speaks in a soft voice. “I’m getting a sense that Daniel’s workoholism was never actually the cause of the issues in your marriage. It was merely a symptom of a deeper problem. Does that make sense to you?”

  Still not ready to accept my share of the blame, defensiveness heats my tone. “What are you getting at?”

  She twists her lips to the side and is silent for a beat before she talks again. "Grace, why is it that you rub your tummy every time someone mentions something that makes you uncomfortable?"

  I glance down at my stomach self-consciously and in deed, my left hand sits there, drawing small circles over my C-Section scar. "Didn't notice that I do that," I say quietly.

  She smiles. "As I said – I'm an expert at reading body language."

  "Right." I nod slightly.

  "Did you experience some type of trauma in that region? A miscarriage? A surgery, maybe?"

  Pain flares in my chest as the memory comes flooding back. "My son was born by emergency C-section.”

  “Tell me a little bit about that,” Serenity prods softly.

  I fill my lungs with air and give myself a moment. “Everything was normal when my labor started but as it progressed, I developed a deadly complication. The umbilical cord slipped into my birth canal before the baby did. He was in distress.” I twist my fingers in my lap as I relive the horror. “Reyfield General is a small medical center. At any given time, there’s only one obstetrician on call. But that night, Dr. Fuckwad had disappeared. Nobody could find him. The OB/GYN in-training decided to take things into her own hands although she didn’t have the experience to handle the situation. Don’t get me wrong – I’m glad she stepped up to the plate because Sebastian would have died if she hadn’t – but she butchered me. The incision was a hack job. She punctured surrounding organs. The suture was a mess. It got infected.”

  “God, that sounds gruesome,” Serenity says.

  I close my eyes and will my heart to slow down. “It was. Imagine lying there on the operating table and watching a petrified medical intern slicing your belly open and literally shoving her hands into your stomach and pulling out your unresponsive baby. I saw everything. I had nightmares about it for weeks. And my recovery was hell because she did such a shoddy job.”

  “Jesus – was the hospital held responsible?”

  I chuff. “The hospital was writing a settlement check the minute they realized who my husband was.”

  “Daniel must have been upset,” Serenity says softly.

  “He was furious. Especially when we found out that the damn attending doctor who should have been the one to perform the surgery was in a supply closet half the night shagging the hospital’s coroner. Like he was on Grey’s Anatomy or something.”

  The therapist looks horrified. "That’s despicable!"

  “The worst part is that when I went on internet forums and started reading the stories of women who had been through similar experiences, so many of them said that they’d been unable to get pregnant later on…Serenity – my whole purpose in life was to grow my family with Daniel. Without it, I was lost. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “And what did Daniel say?”

  “I tried to bring up the topic a few times but he just told me to be grateful for Sebastian, to stop focusing on what had happened. I felt dismissed, insignificant."

  “It’s understandable that you would feel that way,” she says in a sympathetic voice.

  Something about the way she says it makes me want to defend my husband against her judgment. “I don’t think that he was trying to hurt me. I just think that his way of dealing with the trauma was by trying to move on. Plus, we never discussed the very real probability that I may not ever be able to have another child.”

  Tilting her head to the side, Serenity asks, “So Daniel doesn’t realize that you probably can’t get pregnant again?”

  I shake my head, offering her wordless confirmation.

  “That sounds like a pretty big burden to carry all by yourself…”

  I shrug. Despite pushing a smile to my lips, the tears still come. “Gosh – it feels so weird telling someone all this. Daniel and I never mentioned the details to anyone. Not our family or our friends. I mean, they know that I had a C-section and that it took a long time to recover, but they don’t know what that night was like. It was just so painful and I was so ashamed. I felt like I’d failed as a woman. I didn’t want anyone to know...”

  “So how do you think this situation affected your marriage? Do you think that it’s the reason you’ve been pushing Daniel away?”

  My shield goes up instantly. "What?! That's ridiculous. I haven't been pushing Daniel away. He's the one causing the rift between us. He's the one who just walked out of this room." My hand braces my belly. "All he ever does is work and he won’t ever put down his damn phone –"

  She interrupts me. "Doll, I'm having a really hard time giving a fuck about what you're talking about right now." I gasp at her bluntness. "Stop making excuses."

  “Hey! You don’t get to speak to me that way!”

  "Grace, he just quit his job, right here on the spot and that still wasn't enough for you to open your heart and be honest with yourself. His workaholism isn’t an excuse that you can keep hiding behind." She reaches over and taps my hand. “Hun, this whole time, you weren’t really mad at him for the reason you thought you were mad at him.”

  Instead of erupting in another outburst, I take a few silent minutes to consider what Serenity is saying. She sits patiently and waits while I digest her words. I hate to admit it, but her observations make sense.

  Maybe I was pushing Daniel away. After months of keeping all those heavy feelings
inside of me, they started festering and popping up in the most unrelated circumstances. I was lashing out at him, passive aggressive as fuck. I shut him out.

  My fingers cover my lips and I stare blankly at the dizzying pattern on the therapist’s blanket. "Oh my god...Oh my god, Serenity."

  She smiles sadly. “The subconscious can be a funny thing, huh?”

  Her words ring true on the deepest level. I bury my face in a wad of tissues.

  “What did you need from Daniel that you weren't getting in the months following your son’s birth?"

  "I needed my best friend,” I confess. “I needed to know that he still loved me. That he wasn't...disappointed in me."

  "Disappointed?"

  "Being with him, having his children felt like my purpose. I know it sounds stupid but that's how I felt. So if I couldn't have kids any more, what was my purpose?"

  "You needed him to reassure you that you were still valuable to him, that he wouldn’t abandon you like your father did...And you felt like his constant working was his way of saying that you weren't important."

  "I guess you're right. I felt like he was pulling away.” I shake my head in disbelief. How could I have been so dumb? “God, I’m so mad at myself for letting things get to this point."

  Serenity moves to the chair beside me and pulls it closer. “It’s not your fault.” She rubs soothing circles into my back. “The body does crazy things sometimes. So does the mind. But if you ever want to be happy, you’re going to have to kick your insecurities to the curb and accept that Daniel is nothing like your father. You’re going to have to open up to him. He’s devoted to you. He loves you. I know it’s too good to be true but you’re one of the lucky bitches who found the person who was divinely assigned to you. Your soul mate.”

  My heart expands as the truth of what she’s saying penetrates my being.

  Offering me a kind smile, she says, “Now that you have a better idea of what’s going on, you and your husband can work on it.”

  She’s right. And it does feel liberating to get to the root of the problem after so many months of just bumbling along in the dark.

  “The two of you need to be honest with each other. Lay it all on the line. Get completely naked. Emotionally. And if you want to get naked physically that might be fun, too.” She cups her hand over her mouth and whispers. “Did you see his ass in those pants?!”

  I laugh, sniffling and wiping my eyes. "Oh my god. Am I too stupid to live or what?"

  "Grace, communicating openly about our feelings can be tough. Especially with an upbringing like yours and particularly with a partner as confident as your husband. Yes, having a conversation with Daniel about your feelings months ago would have saved you both a world of hurt but the safe cocoon of your marriage had been compromised by a traumatic event. That made it difficult for you to talk to each other and trust each other."

  "I feel so guilty," I whisper.

  "Guilt doesn't solve a thing. To move forward, you first have to forgive yourself and Daniel. Then make a commitment to be better. More open. More honest. More trusting."

  I nod slowly, staring off into the distance. I finally understand.

  “Why are you still sitting here?” She waves me toward the door. “Go get your man!”

  I stumble out of my chair and head out the door, thanking her profusely as I go.

  Chapter 31

  Grace

  I lean over the balcony, elbows on the railing, anxiety warping my belly as I stare out into the darkness of night. Everything is still wet from the rain that’s been battering the town all day but at least the downpour has stopped now. When I left Serenity’s office, I came up to the room where Daniel and I are staying during the retreat. I was sure that he would be here. But he isn’t. And I don’t know if he’s coming back.

  Maybe he finally gave up on putting us back together. Maybe he realized that I’m beyond saving and that he’s better off without me. I really hope I’m not too late. I hope I haven’t ruined us completely. A chilling slide of fear runs up my spine. Is it over? Is it really too late?

  I feel like I see things so clearly now. Initially, I had my doubts about Serenity but she really put everything in perspective for me. I thought that Daniel was putting in all those hours at work because he didn’t want to be around me when in fact, his workoholism was just an effect of deeper problems. Now, that I understand that, I want to explain it all to him. I want to apologize. I want to know if we still have a chance.

  It’s nearly 8:30 when I hear the door open. I rush into the room and he’s standing there in the doorway.

  Neither of us moves or says a word.

  He’s still wearing that preposterous yoga outfit. He looks crazy. It’s my fault. Look at all the shit I’ve done to him. He was the most-respected lawyer in town and I’ve turned him into a joke, a caricature. He quit his job for me. How will he ever forgive me?

  My heart is raging. There are so many things I want to tell him, but I don’t know where to start. I open my mouth to speak but Daniel’s words come first. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

  His words hang in the air between us for a moment. Then, I brave a step forward. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He gives me a confused look. My voice trembles. "I finally see that you aren't the defect in our relationship. This whole time, it's been me."

  He closes the gap between us and his hands clamp down around my shoulders. Confusion flickers in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “I finally see the truth. I was never really angry with you because you were working too hard. Deep down, I was scared that you wouldn’t love me anymore if you knew the whole story. So, I started lashing out at you in different ways. I pushed you away without even realizing what I was doing. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  The pained look on Daniel’s face shreds me on the inside. “Grace…baby…” He looks terrified to ask the question hanging in the air. His hands rise to my cheeks. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What are you hiding?” he croaks out.

  I swallow thickly and force the confession past my lips. “I don’t think that I can get pregnant again. Because of the C-section, because of all the damage and the scar tissue.” I bury myself against his strong body and his muscular arms swallow me up.

  “Why do you think that? Did you go have it checked out by a doctor?”

  I shake my head, feeling stupid. “I was too scared to go to the doctor. I was afraid to actually hear him say conclusively that I can’t have any more kids.”

  “Jesus, Grace! I’m so sorry that you had to go through this on your own. You must have been driving yourself crazy.”

  My back shakes as I cry. “I’m so sorry…I should have told you.”

  His arms grow tighter around me. “Why would you ever think that I could stop loving you?” he growls into my hair. “Don’t you know how crazy I am about you?”

  I shrug. "You always said you wanted a big family. Lots of brothers for Sebastian to play with."

  He pushes me back and stares down into my eyes. "Oh, you heard me say that?” His irritation is clear on his face and in his tone. “Did you also hear me say that I wanted that big family with you? If I can't have a dozen kids, as long as I can have you, I'll be fine."

  "I don't want you to be fine, Daniel. I want you to be happy."

  "Well, now we're broken up and nobody's happy. Not you, not me, not Sebastian." He turns away from me, pacing in circles on the small mat by the door. “God – I feel like such an idiot. I haven’t been paying attention. How did I not even see this? Where the hell was I while my marriage was falling apart?”

  “I don’t want you settling for me. I don’t want to be the girl you got ‘stuck’ with. If you want to go ahead with the divorce, I get it–”

  He charges toward me, startling me when he grabs me by the hips and pins me to the wall. His lips brutalize mine in a kiss that is so rough, so passionate that the line between pain and pleasure isn’t evi
dent at all.

  "Shut up," he grits out. "Stop trying to pick stupid fights with me just to sabotage our relationship. I didn't understand it before but I'm onto you now and I won't let you do it. I love you and you don't get to divorce me."

  Slightly alarmed and majorly turned-on, I protest, "I can do whatever the hell I want."

  Our glares stay locked on each other, so much pain and anger pulsing between us. But intermingled with it all is that stubborn, hard-headed, never-dying love. He traps me in place, pressing his pelvis into mine. "Y'see, there's the rub, Grace. You don't actually want to divorce me. You just think you don't deserve me anymore. That's why you push me away. I understand. It's cute. But there's no way in hell I'm letting you get away with it."