One Day You'll Be Mine: Steamy Contemporary Military Romance

by Hart, Alana

  Does he have his own toiletries at Presley’s house? Did he buy them, or did Presley? Do they take showers together and make out like we used to? Did Presley make him breakfast this morning?

  ***

  I mustered the strength to get out of bed on Sunday. The library was closed, so I didn’t need to work. Hollis and Jordan were at Kelli and Kristophe’s.

  Kelli called earlier; she’d be finishing up the food and then she’d be on her way over. I warned her this place was a wreck. The house looked a mess compared to our usual standards – or should I say Hollis’s – but I didn’t care due to being in so much grief.

  Over the past few days, as shock dissipated anger surged in its place, swirling around in the random caverns, filling any empty space in my soul. If it weren’t for the Ambien Kelli slipped me, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night next to Hollis. I still hadn’t the faintest idea how to confront him; I just knew it needed to be done.

  I started up my Audible app on my phone, turned on my Bluetooth speaker and continued listening to Rachel Vincent’s Menagerie. It was a moving story about a woman named Delilah in an alternate reality where human mutants existed – only to be hated and treated inhumanely. The story is dark, moving, grotesque, yet so eloquently scripted and narrated that you feel like a character inside the book.

  Starting with the kitchen, I cleaned the dirty dishes in the sink. There weren’t many, considering Jordan ate out all week, but the residue on the plates was caked on, and they needed a good soaking. I had to clean by hand because there weren’t enough to justify running the dishwasher.

  The heat of the water was semi-soothing through my dish gloves. I struggled to remember the last time I treated myself to a spa day, or even a bubble bath. It had been a little rough getting those things done when I had Jordan all summer. I’d also been trying to chase after Hollis and get him to make love. But clearly, that wasn’t on the menu.

  Cleaning out the fridge was easy. I had two packages of meat that needed to be cooked, and some produce that went bad. Since the shelves and pantries had been organized last month, they were okay. Before mopping, I set the meat on the counter as a reminder to come back to it after the floors were dry.

  I was working my way through the bathroom when the audiobook stopped. Kelli’s ringtone started to play, informing me she was at the door. She had probably knocked a couple of times before calling; I didn’t hear because of the story’s volume.

  “Hello, hello.” She stepped in, a fresh breeze of warm air flowing in behind her, thinning out the congestion I hadn’t realized existed in the house.

  I stepped behind the door, refusing to look into the blinding brightness of outside. From the little I could see, I’m sure it was a lovely day, but I wanted no parts of it. If I could have my way, partly cloudy with a chance of “Fuck this Shit” would do. As the story continued, she made a face. “What are you listening to?”

  “A story called Menagerie. Rachel Vincent book. Pretty good.”

  She nodded in understanding. Her tanned legs were shown off in form fitting shorts, with a tank top. Her long blonde hair was in a bun at the top of her head. She looked like a SoCal Barbie, military MILF edition. Tiffany & Co. Shades pushed up on her forehead accessorized her look without effort.

  Kelli didn’t speak much. She simply joined in and helped me finish cleaning the bathroom, and then the bedrooms. After pulling the laundry to the front, I started separating loads, and she began setting up the washer, filling it with the whites. Most people thought it weird or odd to touch another’s laundry, but Kelli and I had done it on many occasions. It was just not a big deal to us.

  The living room needed a vacuum. Kelli turned off the AC, and turned on the fan. She explained as she opened the windows. “You need to breathe; it’s stuffy in here. Let the air circulate. You’ve been marinating in this congested environment for days.”

  “Is it really that bad?”

  “You’ve been wearing the same clothes for four days. Have you even showered?”

  I lifted my arm and wrinkled at the funk punching my nose. “Point taken.”

  “Get in the shower.”

  “But I have to cook. Don’t you see the meat on the counter?”

  She waved me off. “I’ll handle it. I’ll even get your clothes.” Pushing me into the bathroom, she repeated, “Get in the shower.”

  ***

  I emerged no earlier than twenty minutes later from the bathroom. Kelli laid out a sundress and shoes she wanted me to wear, but I revolted and put on a pair of shorts and a tank top also. My washed hair had revived some of its waves from the volumizing conditioner I used, so I added mousse. Despite the treatment, it still lacked the proper lustre I was used to.

  I looked into my eyes, and all I could see were slate colored pools of misery, surrounded by bruise colored bags under my eyes. Marriage had definitely taken its toll on me.

  “Okay, little change of plans in the wardrobe, but I like it,” Kelli said. She was perched against the wall, holding my purse. “You ready?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just a nice little drive,” she quipped. Her level of cheerfulness was beyond borderline suspicious. It reeked of a plan that I was made unaware of.

  “Kelli, I’m not in the mood to go out.”

  “It’s been half a week. You’ve been in the house for days, to yourself, doing nothing. You have 24 hours to snap out of it. You are going back to work tomorrow.” She went in my purse and fished out my sun block. “Here. Put this on, or I’ll put it on for you.”

  I sighed as I took the bottle and began applying the sunblock. This would buy me another 20 minutes of safety if I were lucky.

  “What about the meat? I have to cook it this weekend.”

  “It’s already seasoned, and marinating. I’m going to stop by the house on the way out. Kristophe’s going to grill it, so it will not go to waste.”

  Resigned to Kelli’s plans, I stopped protesting and told myself I’d be open to what the day would bring. I silently applied my sun block while she smiled her winning smile, letting me know there would be no winning this battle. Once done, I grabbed my favorite Versace shades, a gift to myself from last summer, and pushed them over my weary eyes.

  Outside was hot and sunny. The heat was still strong, but it wasn’t the intolerable kind of desert hot that would scorch your ass the minute you perched atop your car’s leather seats. Looking around, there were a few kids running around and playing, their parents playing music in their garages, drinking beer, or sitting in view to watch.

  In other words, it was a typical summer Sunday in California. With September around the corner, these days would be coming to an end. I wondered if I would still be torn up by Hollis’s affair then. I’d never been so hurt in my life, and I spent nights contemplating what I did to push him away. Not just in the arms of another woman, but another man?

  Did I turn my husband gay? That’s the question that triggered me daily. Trying to figure out if his change in sexual preference had anything to do with me, or something I did. Maybe that’s why he no longer wanted to have sex. Blowjobs were something a man or woman could do.

  No, can’t say that. I had to exert effort to give him a blowjob. He didn’t even want that from me.

  It’s me, I told myself. I turned him off so badly he felt the need to try something completely opposite of what I am.

  I was still contemplating this when Kelli turned the corner to her house. Jordan and Karter were playing outside. Kristophe and Hollis were drinking beer with another guy and laughing. The closer we got, the more my heart raced. They were drinking with Presley! He was standing between the two of them.

  “Are you fucking kidding me!?” I screeched. The view was insane to me. The three of them were so engrossed in their conversation, chortling and sharing gut-belly laughs that they didn’t even notice us pulling up.

  Here I was, at the sickest, lowest point of my life. I couldn’t even get out of bed over thi
s bastard, and he had the nerve to be kicking it with his Mr. Mistress – and not even sending a text to see if I’m alive. He’s enjoying all life has to offer, and I’m suffering.

  Kelli’s astonished expression and speechless demeanor indicated she was just as thrown off as I was. She took her time getting out of the car, more than likely trying to gather herself. I, on the other hand, did not waste any time jumping out the passenger side and slamming the door.

  Walking up, fists balled, I shoved Hollis in his chest. “You have got to be kidding me! Are you fucking serious right now, Hollis? After everything I’ve done?!”

  Hollis looked at me as if I’d lost my marbles. I flashed my head toward Presley, who stepped back quietly, eyes blinking as if he was looking at a mad woman. Even then, the glint of amusement in his pretty green eyes wasn’t lost on me. This was the outburst he’d been waiting for.

  Kristophe stepped up, attempting to put distance between us. “Whoa, whoa. Natalia, what’s going on?”

  I snapped my shoulder back from his touch. “Don’t touch me, dammit! You were in on this too, weren’t you!?”

  “On what?” He looked genuinely confused. I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to Hollis. “His affair.”

  Everyone fell silent. Hollis’s eyes flashed and hardened. There was a threat in them I’d never seen before, but in that moment I didn’t care.

  “You think I wasn’t going to find out? Yeah, I know all about your affair. I know you’ve been cheating. That’s the real reason I’ve been home sick. I’ve been crying and trying to figure out how to make things work with you, wondering if it was even worth it…” My nostrils flared. “And you’re out here cheating on me – right now in this very second!”

  Hollis’s shoulders tensed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh you don’t?” My eyes flared, then narrowed to slits. I turned to Presley, who stood there highly amused. “Presley, how was your sangria the other night? Kelli and I enjoyed your company the other night.”

  Presley’s expression filled with shock. He raised his hand in the air, signaling his departure. “I don’t know how you know my name. I have nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh you don’t?! Everybody’s fucking clueless that my husband’s a fucking cheater, huh? Is everyone also clueless about the fact that he’s fucking another –“

  SLAP!

  Before I knew it, Hollis reached out and slapped the shit out of me. My face was frozen from the sting of his contact. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the house.

  “MOOOOM!” I heard Jordan scream. “MOOOOOM!”

  “Come here Jordan,” I heard Kelli say. “Stay away from your mother.”

  “Dad just hit mom!” Jordan roared. “Mom are you okay!?”

  I was too stunned to move, respond, or attempt to look my son in the face. My brain started to dizzy as I tried to take all of this in. Was this really happening? My heart paced like crazy. Hollis never put his hands on me. Ever. He also never forcefully dragged me anywhere.

  Kristophe must have started to follow, because Hollis shouted. “Stay out of this! I’ll be right back.”

  He tossed me on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid bitch!”

  I looked up at him, and broke down in tears. “What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?! What did I ever do to you? You’re cheating on me, and now you’re hitting me and calling me a bitch?”

  Jordan’s screams for me penetrated the glass door. Hearing his worry compounded my pain, and I started sobbing even more. I never intended for my son to see how badly we were not getting along, but hiding the stress of our situation was maddening.

  Hollis looked at the door and shouted, “Jordan be quiet!”

  “You’re tearing this family apart. Don’t you see that?” I stood up, finally able to move past the shock of being slapped by my husband. I looked at him, hoping to see some kind of remorse in his eyes.

  I got nothing.

  He seemed too cold and soulless to give a damn.

  “I didn’t come over here causing a scene. I didn’t start making wacky accusations. And I didn’t rock the boat. I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but it’s not me. You need to get your shit straight. Your problem is with that man you’re fucking, not me.”

  “You’re accusing me of fucking another man when the man you’re fucking is the one who gave me those flowers,” I spat. I enjoyed the slight bug in his eyes when he realized that’s how I found out. “He left them on my car when I was at Kelli’s, after you bought him that ring he’s wearing. He let me know everything the other night while you were drugged to sleep in his bed. Oops! I mean ‘working for 24 hours.’” I made quotation marks with my fingers to emphasize my knowledge of his made up story.

  Hollis’s jaw clenched. He reached out and clamped my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off, but his grip was too strong. He pushed me out of sight from the glass door, away from the view and towards the bathroom. I started screaming, and he shushed me. I didn’t listen and tried to fight him, but as always, his strength outmatched mine.

  The dark look in his eyes was evil. Pure evil. I’d never seen anything like that except in horror movies or Lifetime re-enactments.

  Tears ran down my cheek, and I began trembling as he closed the bathroom door behind us. I was sure this was where I’d die; here, in my best friend’s bathroom on a beautiful summer day at the hands of my cheating husband. I was sure after he killed me, he’d just bury my body in his lover’s backyard.

  He slammed my head against the wall and wrapped his fingers around my neck. As I slowly lost my fight, and my life started to flash before my eyes, I started to see all the mistakes I made, the opportunities I missed, and things that passed me by dealing with this knucklehead.

  “Don’t you tell anyone,” he snarled through gritted teeth. “Or your life will be a living fucking hell.” His eyes looked into mine as he squeezed. “Do you understand me?”

  I grunted in the affirmative, and he released me, leaving me to slip to the floor, and as always, walked out without saying another word. I gasped as my throat pulled for air, and started coughing.

  I heard the glass door open, and heard frantic steps enter. Kelli and Jordan called out for me. I could barely speak, so they had to listen to the sound of my coughs.

  Jordan wrapped his arms around me and cried. He thought Hollis tried to kill me in the house. Kelli appeared calm, but there were tears building at the corner of her eyes. She raised her hand to step back and let me have a moment with my son, who desperately needed my soothing.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  Even though it was uncomfortable for me to talk, I nodded. “Yes, baby. Mommy’s okay. Your father and I just had a little fight. That’s all.”

  “You’re not supposed to hit girls. That’s what they taught us in school.” He looked at me. “Are you calling the cops? Is dad going to jail? Why did he hit you?”

  “Boys are not supposed to hit girls, honey. You’re right. And No, I’m not going to call the cops. Daddy’s not going to jail.” I sighed, holding my boy close to me as tears fell. My life was unraveling quicker than I could catch up, and I couldn’t stand watching it happen in front of my son. “But Mommy is going to leave Ms. Kelli’s house with Ms. Kelli and take some space, so Daddy and I can calm down okay?”

  He looked at me, his hazel eyes pooled with concern. “Can I come too?”

  I smiled and caressed his face. “I would love to take you, but perhaps another time. Mommy just needs rest. I’ve been sick all week, and now I’m tired.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll make you soup,” he offered.

  “You don’t know how to make soup.”

  “Uh huh. You open the can, pour it in the bowl and put it in the microwave.”

  I smiled. For a boy who thought affection gave you cooties, he was pouring it all over the place right now.

  “Spend time playing with Karter. School’s starting soon, and t
hat means you won’t spend time with him because you’ll be studying and playing basketball. I promise to spend time with you later on, okay?”

  He nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer. He helped me up. I checked my face in the mirror. My cheek was still red from where Hollis had slapped me, and there were was redness around my neck from where he grabbed me. I could tell I’d be bruising later on, another curse of have sensitive fair skin. The burn of shame, anger, and embarrassment would redden me up just enough that nobody would notice. At least that’s what I told myself, pushing my glasses down my forehead and perching them back atop my nose.

  ***

  Jordan held my hand protectively as I walked into the living room. Kelli was inside, Karter sitting next to her looking sad.

  “See, Ms. Natalia is okay. Jordan’s taking care of her, you see?” Karter nodded slowly, looking at us as if he were in a daze.

  We kissed our sons goodbye, though they were reluctant to let us out of their sights. They followed us to Kelli’s car, and almost marched us right past Kristophe, who was standing by himself, and talking on his phone. Kelli walked over to Kristophe, and spoke a few words to him. He nodded, his eyes flitting back from her to me, before waving grimly. Too weary to fight I waved from the car and buckled my seat belt so I could close my eyes and surrender myself to rest.

  Kelli started the car. Immediately music began to play, but she lowered the volume.

  “Are you okay?” she said. “I know you didn’t want to make a scene, but do you need help? Do you want to go to the hospital or call 911?”

  “I’m battered and bruised, but not broken.” I didn’t bother to open my eyes. “I don’t want to go to a hospital. I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to go home and sleep.”

  Angst began to fill my lungs, and I started to get that familiar feeling in my nostrils I usually got when my eyes watered and started to cry. I was tired of crying. I was tired of being emotional, I was tired of putting up a strong front for my son and this military family Hollis and I created, and I was certainly tired of being in pain.