He grabbed a beer from the fridge and pulled up a stool opposite hers.
“We should talk,” he said.
Riley looked up, surprised. “That’s my line,” she joked.
Shawn tipped back his beer and took a long swallow. “Usually, yeah.”
“But you have something you want to talk about.” It wasn’t a question.
He nodded.
“Is it about Brian?” she asked.
He shook his head, then thought about it. “Well, yeah, that too, but nah, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Then what?” She asked the question slowly, and Shawn got the feeling she already knew the answer.
18
Livia Kincaid,” he said, as Riley feared he might. She didn’t know why, but for some reason she had known this was coming.
“What about her?” Her voice trembled. Please, she thought. No.
“The night we had that fight about your ex-boyfriend, when I left, I went to the studio like I told you. But …”
“Did you have sex with her?”
Shawn looked momentarily stunned at the question. But she couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t wait through the preliminaries. Riley didn’t want to hear about the weather, the drive from the apartment and the traffic on the way. She didn’t even care about his state of mind. All she wanted to know was whether her husband had been unfaithful. Again.
“No,” Shawn said.
But he didn’t say it with any sense of outrage at having been asked. Which meant there was something else, something bad, that he hadn’t told her yet.
“Did you touch her? Kiss her?”
“No,” he said again, this time shaking his head.
“Did she do those things to you?”
At that, Shawn looked down a little, scratched the back of his neck, and his eyes narrowed.
“No. I don’t think so, but …”
“You don’t think so? How was it that you came to be in a position where you don’t know, Shawn?” Her lower lip had begun to tremble.
“Because I was drunk. I’d been smoking. I slept at the studio, and … she did, too.”
Riley put the glass of wine she’d been holding on the countertop. Because if she didn’t, she was afraid she would throw it at him.
“Who else?” she made herself ask. The tremble in her voice was audible now.
“Who else …?”
“Did anyone else sleep at the studio? And who were they?”
She was an inquisitor now. But this was his doing, not hers. He made her into this.
“No. It was just …” He swallowed hard. “It was just the two of us.”
Riley closed her eyes. And when she did, two slow tears escaped, making tracks down her cheeks, itching and tickling as they went.
“You say you love me,” she began speaking, but it was difficult because it felt like there was a golf ball lodged in her throat. “You say it all the time. That you love me so much. And yet you’re so damned …. careless with all that love. You just … shit on it every chance you get.”
“I shit on it? What about you? Why was it such a big secret when some nigga you supposedly no longer give a fuck about came by? Huh?”
“Don’t try to turn this around.”
“And you don’t try to play the victim. I got drunk, I got high. And some chick …”
“Not just some chick. Some chick who from the moment she met me, tried to test me where you’re concerned. Coming into my home at your invitation and …”
“The only reason you felt tested by her Riley is because you looked at her and saw what you used to be!”
Before she even knew she had done it, she had picked up the wineglass and sent it hurtling across the kitchen where it exploded against the wall several feet behind Shawn’s head. He didn’t even flinch.
“No. Maybe that’s what you saw. And that’s how you wound up spending the night with her!” Riley shoved back from the countertop, but Shawn’s hand shot across the distance and grabbed her by the wrist.
“Nah,” he said. “Not this time. This time, we’re finishin’ this shit. One way or another.”
Wrenching her hand free, Riley sat down again. “Then let’s finish it,” she said coldly.
It was only then that she saw something shift in his eyes.
“Riley, I did not mess with that girl. I …”
“But you put yourself in the situation where you could have. You put me in a position where I have to ask the question!”
“What about you? What situation were you putting yourself in? When you kept it from me that you saw your ex.”
“He’s married! I would never …”
“Really? You would never? Our whole relationship started out of you stepping out on your dude. This dude. How you gon’ sit here and act like …”
“He was a boyfriend! You’re my husband, Shawn. The reason I didn’t tell you about Brian had nothing to do with love, or sex or anything like that. It was …”
She stopped.
“It was what?”
Still, she said nothing.
“It was what? Tell the truth.”
“I … I wouldn’t lie to …”
“You lied every time you came in here and didn’t mention him. So now, tell me the truth.”
“Shawn, it wasn’t …”
“Tell me the fuckin’ truth!”
“It was stupid,” she said, speaking quickly. “It was … I don’t know, I had this … I had a vision I had in my head of a life that I thought I was going to have that’s so different from the life I have, the life we have. And for a second, it was like Brian had that life, but with someone else, and I wondered …”
Now it was Shawn who was blinking, like he was blinking back tears, and nodding like he had just had his greatest fear confirmed. The pain in his eyes was unbearable to see.
Riley felt her throat tighten further and she reached across the distance, trying to touch him, but Shawn recoiled.
“If you don’t have the life you want with me, then maybe …” His voice broke. “Maybe… you shouldn’t be with me, Riley. It’s just that simple.”
Her face crumpled, and she was sobbing audibly now.
Shawn put his face in his hands for a moment then raised his head again, and Riley could see how shell-shocked he was that they had come to this place, where either one of them would say words like the ones he had just uttered.
“No,” she managed, between gulps for air. “That’s not it … that’s not …”
“Then what?” He asked the question like someone drowning and grasping for a life raft. “Tell me. What?”
But she didn’t know what to say.
This time it was Shawn who shoved back from the counter. The pizzas in the oven; they were beginning to burn. He walked around and shut it off then when Riley expected he would be going to sit across from her again, he instead turned to leave the kitchen.
Thinking he might go even further and leave the apartment, she ran after him, but in her haste was not as careful as he was, and her right foot came down on a shard of glass. She felt the soft flesh rip, and a burning sensation as though her sole was doused in flames.
At the sound of her sharp gasp, Shawn stopped and turned.
“Fuck, Riley!”
Hurrying back to her side, he lifted her in one swift motion while she grimaced and held her foot. Part of the stem of the wineglass had impaled her instep. Seeing the injury seemed to make it hurt even more, and she bit hard into her lower lip to keep from crying out again.
Shawn carried her into the master bathroom and sat her on the edge of the tub while Riley cried, silent tears streaming down her face, no longer slowly, no longer tickling or itching, but in what felt like a torrent.
Turning on the bright overhead light, Shawn kneeled in front of her, and seeing more closely what he was dealing with, did some grimacing of his own.
“Sit still,” he told her. “I’ma pull it out. And if it … if it gushes, we migh
t have to go to the emergency room.”
Riley nodded, still biting down on her lip. When Shawn reached for the glass shard, she shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to see what she was surely about to feel.
When he pulled it out, there was another ripping sensation, but then the pain eased a little, becoming more of a sting than a burn. She looked down, and saw that the wound oozed a little, but not a pulsing ooze which would mean that the glass had sliced something major.
Putting a hand at her back, Shawn turned her around, so her legs were in the tub, and turned on the water. He tested it until he got the temperature he wanted and put her foot under the stream of the tap. The water ran pink for a few moments, then became clear.
Shawn pulled her foot from under the flow of water and checked the wound. It was still bleeding, but slowly, and the cut was a lot smaller and localized than it first appeared.
“I think we can bandage and wrap it,” he said, exhaling.
“So much for winning Sports-a-palooza,” Riley said quietly.
Shawn looked at her but didn’t smile and she leaned in, her forehead briefly touching his shoulder before he pulled away.
“Lemme see what bandages and stuff we have.”
“Under the sink,” Riley said woodenly.
He found hydrogen peroxide, band-aids and gauze, and came back to clean and wrap her foot. When he was done, they both sat on the edge of the tub. Riley felt spent, physically and emotionally. She thought she could probably fall asleep if she were in bed but didn’t want to. Because what if Shawn left?
He stood, and she jolted upright, fearing that he really was planning to leave.
“Where are you …?”
“To clean up that glass,” he said, his voice as flat as hers had been. “Before tomorrow when the kids get up. Before anyone else gets hurt.”
“And then you … you won’t …”
“I won’t leave,” he said, shaking his head.
“Okay.”
Riley dimly heard the hand-vac and waited for the sound to cease so she would know that Shawn was done cleaning up the glass and, on his way back to the bedroom. Or maybe he would stay out there. Maybe he felt there was nothing left to say.
She had only met Livia Kincaid the one time. And though there had been that moment of recognition, where she saw a young woman who reminded her very much of herself, she honestly hadn’t given her much thought beyond that. Even though she sensed that she was attracted to Shawn, the shadowing assignment hadn’t concerned Riley at all.
Because she trusted Shawn.
She trusted him. And even now, she wasn’t sure whether it was fair to say he had broken that trust.
Tonight, he had been the one who raised the issue of Livia and shared with her something she might never otherwise have found out. Even at the risk of her not believing that it was as he said it was—him drunk and high, and Livia maybe unsuccessfully taking her shot—he had told her.
What she had confessed, he had to pry out of her. She hadn’t planned on telling him what she thought when she was with Brian, because, she’d rationalized, it would hurt him. But also, she now had to admit, because if she told him, he might not want her to donate to Brian’s organization. And that donation didn’t just feel like ‘the right thing to do’, it almost felt like a debt that was owed to Brian by her.
She had almost drifted off to sleep when a shadow appeared in the door of the master suite. Riley sat up.
Shawn was standing there, and he was carrying a tray.
“They were only a little overdone,” he said.
For a moment, she felt like crying again. He’d brought her the pizza. He set the tray in the middle of the bed and sat on the edge of it.
“I could’ve walked,” Riley said, though she wasn’t sure that was true.
Her foot was throbbing now, a dull ache that seemed to be in time with the beating of her heart. She slid closer to the tray and looked down. Shawn had cut each of their pizzas in half. She picked hers up and bit into it. The crust was a little hard, but the toppings of lamb and goat cheese still tasted delicious.
“Try it,” she told him, when she saw that Shawn was just watching her eat.
He did, and soon they were both preoccupied with their meals, probably hungrier than either of them had realized. When they were done, Shawn reached for the tray, but Riley stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Leave it,” she said. “Please.”
He looked confused. “I can’t just leave it,” he said. “You gon’ sleep with it on the bed?”
‘You’. Not ‘we’.
“No, I meant …” she pointed to the ottoman and armchair. “Maybe just leave it over there?”
Shaking his head in exasperation, Shawn stood and did as she asked. If he went to the kitchen, she knew he wouldn’t come back. Maybe he wouldn’t leave the apartment because he said he wouldn’t. But it was a big apartment. He could go all the way to the other end, sleep in his home studio, shower there in the morning and then be gone before she woke up. It was important that neither of them leave now, because if they did, Riley feared they may never find their way back to each other.
But once he had put down the tray, Shawn seemed not to know what to do.
“Shawn,” she said.
He looked at her.
“C’mere.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Please,” she said.
He came to her and she pulled him down, lying on her side, and maneuvering him into position so he would do the same. The faced each other, eyes open. His were tired.
Sitting up briefly, Riley shut off the lights. There was still one on in the hallway, casting a beam across the covers so she could see his face. His eyelids were growing heavier.
“Baby.”
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.
“I’m sorry.” She moved closer. Close enough to feel his breath on her face.
“I’m sorry, too,” Shawn said.
He was asleep before her, and when he was, Riley watched him for a while until she was sure he would not wake up and would not leave. Only then did she, too, sleep.
19
Shawn woke up because he was hot. Not just warm but equatorial-level hot and perspiring. Still groggy and fuzzy-headed, he realized he was still fully-clothed from the night before, and Riley was draped over, and practically lying atop him. On her side, she had hooked her right leg over both of his, rested her head on his chest and looped her arms around his neck. She was sweating as well, her curls plastered to her forehead and neck.
Her breaths were quiet and even, and she was deeply asleep, but her expression was mildly anguished, like she may have fallen asleep crying and still not found any refuge. He had slept heavily, but fitfully. He felt like he had been knocked unconscious, but not at rest.
Riley’s lips parted slightly as she exhaled, and Shawn noted the shape of them. Cassidy had her mother’s lips. And the shape of her face was the same too. By the time she was a teenager, she would look even more like Riley. Shawn felt something in his chest twist looking at his wife.
Which would be worse? Living without her, or living with her and being always unsure he was giving her what she needed?
But shit, did she even know what she needed? What she wanted?
In work, she was on sure footing, and when she wasn’t, had no problems seeking out people who were. But in love they had both been blind and groping around in the dark when they found each other. Neither of them had been looking, but against all the odds and despite all their differences, they found each other.
She wasn’t unhappy in their life together. He knew that for certain. Because when it was him, and her, and their kids and their friends, Riley’s light illuminated the room. Only in the outside world, under the glare of his fame and her never-ending quest to prove something to god-only-knew-who, did her light seem dimmer. She folded into herself just the tiniest bit, becoming more self-possessed but also more self-protective.
&
nbsp; He had been in this life since he was seventeen, so it was easier for him, but there was no question it could wear you down. Trying to live your life as though no one was watching when you knew that hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, were? That was hard work.
Tiny beads of perspiration had developed on Riley’s nose, and pooled in the little crevasse above her upper lip, so Shawn reached down to wipe it away with his thumb.
Riley’s eyes fluttered a little and opened partway. She exhaled and shifted a little, then realizing she was almost on top of him made as though to sit up, her expression almost embarrassed.
Shawn tightened his arm around her to keep her where she was. Her eyes focused as she came fully awake, and without thinking, Shawn pressed his lips against hers feeling them open slightly. He kissed her more deeply, and tasted her, his familiar, his only one.
Moving them both so she was beneath him, Shawn lifted the shirt over her head and kissed and licked along her damp neck. Sliding a hand down between them, he tugged at her underwear until she lifted her hips and worked them off on her own.
Rising to his knees between her open legs, he removed his own shirt, then sat back to rid himself of his pants, boxers and socks. Riley watched with almost wild, eager eyes, her chest visibly rising and falling.
When he was undressed, he paused just to look at her. Her body had changed since pregnancy, but in subtle ways that only a lover, only a husband would notice. Her nipples were somewhat larger, darker, rougher against his tongue. Her hips were wider, fuller, softer under his hands. Her stomach was more convex where it had been concave, and faint stretchmarks crisscrossed her otherwise unblemished skin at intervals.
Riley, one of the least vain women he had ever known, had at first disliked them, believing they were more apparent than they were. She bought lotions and creams, applying them religiously each night. It became a ritual of hers until once, kneeling in front of where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, Shawn had taken the lotion from her hand, and tossed the bottle out of her reach before she could put any on.
Stop, he told her, kissing her just above her navel. You’re beautiful.
Four: Stories of Marriage Page 15