Black Swan Affair

by K. L. Kreig

  And Jillian? She’s still distant and withdrawn. Her snark is all but gone. She’s turned into a waif, just a shell of herself. I think she and Killian spend more time apart now than together. I’ve spent my entire life wishing Jillian were someone else and now that she is, I’m not sure I like it. I keep waiting for the sister I’ve loathed all this time to return with a vengeance and she just…doesn’t. Surprisingly, I’m really starting to worry about her.

  It’s also been close to three months since Kael’s and my conversation about having a baby. The joy of starting new life fell to the wayside at the reality of one lost. Kael and I haven’t talked about it since. I went off the pill, though, and we haven’t been using protection.

  I have to admit I was torn when my monthly visitor showed up just a few days ago. I want this next step with Kael, I’m just not sure I’m ready for the joy of parenthood when I’m still mourning the loss of my own parent. I’ve decided if it happens, it happens. I’m not gonna stress.

  As far as Kael and I, I’m not sure things could be better between us. He doesn’t work as many hours. He’s home for dinner by six or six thirty most nights. He’s loving and attentive as always. But he also seems more focused on something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, though. He’s always been protective of me and the issues with my parents—issues that he took on as his—but I wonder if the death of my father has hit him harder than he’ll admit.

  Pushing sad thoughts away, I turn up the radio as loud as it will go, letting the beat of the music take me over. I find myself wiggling my ass and singing at the top of my lungs about being worth it.

  My cell lights up, vibrating noisily against the granite. I spare it a glance, frowning at the name on the caller ID. I stop moving, panting slightly, and debate whether to answer it. I argue with myself as the vibration continues. I’m just reaching for it when Kael’s voice brightly calls, “Hi,” as he walks through the garage door. I abandon the call, letting it roll to voice mail and quickly reach over to turn down the radio’s volume.

  My hi comes out as a squeak when his arms coil around my waist. Warm lips skate along my throat and I’m reminded of the day he did that so long ago shortly after we were first married. I kinda wish I was making crème pâtissière instead of fishing out a pot roast from the roaster so he could smear the custard all over me again. Only this time, I’d think of no one but him as he ravenously licked it off. I’d feel only his fingers as they twisted my nipples and pumped inside me. Hear only his voice in my ear as he commanded me to come. Know only Kael as he brought me to the brink of orgasm and over it so hard I shook in the strength of his hold.

  I take the lid off the cooker and breathe deeply, the scent of slow-roasted meat and veggies filling my senses. “You seem to be in a good mood,” I say breathlessly as my lobe is captured between his teeth.

  “I am,” he whispers with it still in his grasp. His teeth lift, but his lips wrap around the flesh instead. Then his breath trickles over the coolness left behind, making me shiver. “Pot roast?”

  His hold loosens enough so I can turn in his arms. I set down the slotted spoon and spin, twining my limbs around his neck. “You sound disappointed.”

  “Not at all. I love pot roast.”

  I cock my head, studying him. “But?”

  His brows go up. “How do you know there’s a but?”

  “Because I’ve known you for twenty-six years, counselor. I know a stiff…solid”—I trail one hand down his back and grip his taut ass—“butt when I see one.” We break out in laughter before he slants a scorching kiss on my lips.

  “So, you’re home early,” I say, now a lot breathless and ready for dinner of a totally different sort.

  But his eyes. They stop me short of sliding my hand around the front of his hip. Now that I’m looking straight into them, I see a little wariness.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Swan.”

  “Then what’s up? You have that wary, guarded look in your eyes like when you had to tell me they were canceling Teen Angel. What is it?”

  A self-deprecating smile pops out. His elbows squeeze into my waist and I feel the lace of his fingers at my back. He’s caging me in so I can’t escape. “Sometimes I hate that you know me so well.”

  Red alert. My pulse skitters. There’s definitely something going on. “No, you don’t. You love it. Now spill. Is it something to do with DSC?”

  “No, Maverick,” he answers fast. Too fast. After a quick glance out the window, he draws in a deep breath and announces, “But there is something I wanted to tell you about, actually.”

  Under normal circumstances, I would bust out a smug grin and tease him but my senses are tingling like lit sparklers. The moment feels heavy, electric. He’s nervous.

  I keep my voice steady when I prod, “What is it?”

  He holds my eyes. Holds them so tight it’s as if we’re magnets. Powerful and unbreakable. In literally one second, I’ll wonder if we are.

  “I got a job offer.”

  I just stare. Blink and stare and blink some more. Job offer? But he already has a job. “What do you mean, you got a job offer? You have a job, Kael. Here, in Dusty Falls. Working for my father’s company.” I gasp, a sudden thought hitting me. “Did Killian fire you?” Would he do that? Would he abuse his power that way?

  Kael’s nostrils flare out and a corner of his mouth tugs up, but it’s nowhere in the same vicinity as a smile.

  “Because if he did, I’ll—”

  “No, Swan. He did not fire me. And I don’t need you to fight my battles,” he tacks on rather bitterly.

  I stiffen a little, trying not to let that needle me. “Well, then what happened? Why did you get a job offer? I don’t understand.”

  And where? It’s not as though there are a lot of places for an attorney to work in Dusty Falls.

  He never looks away as he says evenly, “I accepted.”

  It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up to what he just said. I thought I heard him say I accepted. And when I realize he did, in fact, say those two words, the wind feels knocked straight from my lungs.

  “You did what?” I force that question out on the last rasp of air I have left because I feel like I can’t breathe right. I push him away with all the strength in me. He lets me, staggering back, undaunted. “How could you do that without consulting me first? DSC needs you, Kael. Now more than ever.”

  His jaw is set tight. His stare firm, digging into me with unchecked resolve. “They don’t. Everyone is replaceable, including me.”

  Seconds ago, I was thinking Killian fired him. Now, my thoughts have swerved 180 degrees. “Killian will never accept your resignation.”

  His demeanor doesn’t change a bit. “He already did.”

  This is why he was calling only moments ago. It has to be.

  “How could you do this?” I breathe hotly.

  Determination schools his features tight. He nods slightly when he tells me, “This is what’s best for us, Swan.”

  “Best for us?” I parrot in utter disbelief and shock. Yes, shock. That must be what’s making my limbs numb and my mind shut down. No. It’s whirling. Whirling and spinning and reeling so fast my stomach revolts. I don’t know how long we silently argue before I find my spine again. Then I straighten my back. Square my shoulders. Pick up my scattered thoughts from the floor, piecing them together in the only pattern that makes sense. “Best for us or best for you?”

  Caramel eyes harden right before me. “Us. We need to get the fuck out of this town, Maverick, before it sucks us under and ruins us. Before it breaks us and everything we’re trying to build together.”

  “Ruins us? What in the hell are you talking about, Kael?” My voice shrills more and more with each word I’m flinging. “Our lives are here. Our livelihoods are here. Our memories. Our histories. Our loyalties. Our families!”

  He just stands still, stony and steadfast. “Exactly.” As if that one word explains it all. And I
suppose it does. One word sums up the reason he wants to abandon everything we’ve known, leaving our entire lives behind. One word that can be found hidden within each of the reasons I just gave.

  Killian.

  My blood boils hot. Hot and sweltering. Blisters are forming inside. Sweat dots my brow. “I can’t believe you did this without consulting me.”

  His gaze slides over my rigid form. It lands on my curled hands, then my fixed jaw. “Because I knew you’d react like this.”

  “How the fuck am I supposed to react when you tell me you’ve been off making plans for our lives without me!” Then it hits me with the force of the sun at high noon on the equator. Why didn’t I put two and two together sooner? Why didn’t I push this when I had doubts about what he was doing? Doubts Killian planted. “Is this why you’ve been going to Minneapolis?”

  Please say no. Please say no. Please don’t say yes…

  He doesn’t even bother looking ashamed when he answers. “Yes.”

  My knees feel weak. They crumple a little but I catch myself with a hand on the counter. The other is pushing into Kael’s chest as he tries to get to me. “Don’t touch me,” I mumble. He takes two steps away.

  I feel utterly sick. He’s kept this from me for months. We stare at each other, the air thickening with anger and hurt.

  “Who is the job with?” I force the question through a tight throat. My flags are all flying high and blood red. I know who else is up in Minneapolis and I’m hoping beyond all hope he’s not going to say what I think he is.

  His hard swallow makes my skin prick. “Braham Construction.”

  “Oh my God. But that’s…” Oh God, I can’t…air…I’m gasping for it. “That’s…Kael.” That’s DSC’s biggest competitor in the Midwest.

  I turn my back to him and drop my head, gripping that granite top so hard my fingers scream as loud as my mind. I close my eyes and strain to drag in long, slow lungfuls of patience and forgiveness. It’s not fucking working. I feel unimaginably betrayed right now. Confused and so, so betrayed.

  “How long have you been working on this?” I muster.

  “A while.”

  A while—air quotes. It’s been months. That’s why he took me to Saint Paul. That’s why he wanted to show me around. That’s why he wanted me to love it. Jesus Christ. Yeah. I fucking said it. And it tastes as sour as vinegar in my mind as the ash of duplicity tastes in my mouth.

  I whirl back around, my hair flopping wildly. I don’t want to look at him right now but I have to see his face when I ask, “Were there ever any meetings with the National Guard?”

  He looks a little hurt. I don’t feel bad in the slightest. “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  He hesitates only momentarily, eyes darting to the floor before coming back to mine. His sigh alone answers the question. “Just the one. It stalled just like I told you.”

  “Then why didn’t Killian know?” I press.

  His lips purse into a thin, angry line. He’s angry? Well, fuck that. Again, not feeling bad.

  “It was a favor for your father. They contacted him directly. They were interested in DSC, but your father didn’t want to send Killian because he didn’t want to taint the procurement process.” When I remain silent he adds, “It was a back-of-the-napkin meeting, Mavs. I never mentioned it to Killian and I don’t know if your father did. I didn’t ask.”

  I absorb his explanation. When Kael lies, he always ends up wetting his lips. I’m not sure he’s even aware of it, but his lips are as dry as a bone right now. I want to ask him why he didn’t just tell me that from the beginning, only I already know.

  “You lied to me,” I say in a shaky voice.

  “I didn’t—”

  “You fucking did,” I yell. “Withholding this is the equivalent of lying. We are married, Kael. Married people are supposed to talk about big, life-changing things like this. Not hide them from each other.”

  His lips snarl in a way I’ve never seen before. “Really? Is that what we’re supposed to do, Mavs? Because I have things I’d like to talk about, then.”

  My chest tightens. Oh God. This is it. The moment we’ve waited our whole lives for. The discussion that will rip us apart or unite us so we’re unbreakable. I’ve wanted to go here dozens of times since we’ve been married and now that we’re standing on the doorstep looking into that tarry pit of hurt, I just want to close the door and plaster over it for good.

  But I can’t.

  Because he is the reason we are even here in the first place.

  “Just say it,” I push. I dare.

  That distance I made sure was between us has now vanished. The tips of his shoes press against my bare toes. His chest grazes mine with each ragged inhale. His head is bowed down, his face close to mine. Swirling red-hot orbs of anger hold me hostage once again. When he speaks, his voice is thick and hoarse and guttural.

  “Yeah. This is about him, Maverick. About the taboo subject we pretend doesn’t exist between us, but he’s always fucking there. Always between us. He’s all that’s ever been between us.”

  “Kael—”

  He grabs my chin between his thumb and finger, pinching to make a point but not to hurt me. “You don’t think I know he’s held what’s mine? Kissed what’s mine? Loved what’s mine? Fucked what’s mine?” He runs his trembling free hand through his hair until the pieces stand on end. “You don’t think I know you even named your fucking business after him?”

  I open my mouth to deny it, but I can’t. I did it as a backward fuck-you to Killian. In college, I read Taleb’s book, The Black Swan, on outliers and unpredictable events. It was fascinating. Kael listened to me chatter about his theories of fourth quadrant empirical and statistical properties endlessly. So months later, when Killian’s unimaginable, unpredictable betrayal occurred, I was full of spite and embarrassment and it seemed fitting. Now it just seems petty.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Maverick! I know everything and I still don’t care. That’s how much I love you. That’s how wound around the very fucking center of my soul you are. It’s the same place you’ll be until I close my eyes and take my last breath. You are rooted in here”—he pounds his chest—“in the bowels of me so far I will never be rid of you. No matter how much I’ve tried. No matter how much I wanted to while I knew you were with him.”

  His voice cracks. He stops. Pants. Pins me with a look that devastates me but not more than his confession or the tears I now see gleaming. “While he was the sun that lit your world, you were the darkness that shadowed mine.”

  I suck in a sharp, painful breath. My soul feels crushed. Literally. Stomped on with a boot heel until it’s nothing but one big black mass of self-disgust.

  “Why?” I can’t possibly fathom why he loves me. Why he married me. Why he gives two shits about someone who has done nothing but hurt him over and over, albeit unintentionally.

  Why? Why? Why?

  “Why what, Swan?” His voice is hoarse and aching, but there is no mistaking his affection. Still. Even now, after everything I’ve done to him, I couldn’t find more love in his eyes if I tried.

  “Why anything? Why are you here with me? Why do you want me? Why did you marry me?” Please explain it to me, because I just don’t get it. I don’t deserve it. I never have.

  He simply shakes his head as if I’m the densest person on the planet. “Because I have enough love for the both of us. I always have.”

  That’s it.

  My knees give way. I fall unceremoniously into a heap on the floor and sob. I’m not quiet about it either. I wail. My body shakes with shame and heartbreak. With loathing that I haven’t been what he needs.

  Strong arms circle me. They lift and carry me. He settles me, holds me, comforts me. He loves and forgives me, petting my hair. Kissing my temple. Embracing me until my sobs slow to just occasional shudders. He brings a tissue to my nose, making me blow. His love for me is as deep and boundless as the clear blue sky.

  “Do you rem
ember that first time I followed you to Old Man Riley’s lake?”

  I nod, sure my voice box won’t work. My entire being is weak and not just my muscles. My soul and heart are, too.

  “I knew you knew.” He chuckles. I like the feel of his body shaking under me.

  “You were about as stealthy as a bear,” I whisper back. My voice sounds like it’s been rubbed with coarse sandpaper. I twist my fingers in his shirt, holding fast as if it’s the only thing binding me to earth. It may be.

  Kael slides two fingers under my chin and lifts. “I’ve been in love with you my whole life, Maverick. Even before I knew what love was. But that day…” He chokes up. The waterworks start fresh. “God, that day I watched you let the real Maverick DeSoto completely out and I thought…She is all I want. She has to be mine. I want her to be mine. That was the day I knew I’d never love another the way I already loved you.”

  Oh, the guilt. How it’s eating me alive. Its sharp teeth clamp hard and fast. They’re unyielding. He’s loved me in that beautifully painful way I’ve loved Killian. It’s nearly unbearable to hear him confess it.

  His eyes search mine. For long seconds, he penetrates that place so far inside a person it’s hard to let anyone find it, let alone into it. “We can’t help who we love, Maverick,” he tells me softly.

  And this is the selfless man I know. He knows how I’ve felt about Killian and he’s telling me in his own words it’s okay. But it’s not. My love for his brother has been a burden he’s had to carry alone all his life. I’ve loved the wrong man all along. Given all of me to someone I shouldn’t have. It should have been Kael. Always Kael.

  “I’m sorry.”

  A sad smile flashes across his lips. “No need to be sorry, Swan. But I’m done. I won’t share you with him. Not anymore. If we have any chance of making it, we have to get the hell out of Dusty Falls. We have to make new memories in a place where I don’t feel suffocated by those daily reminders that he still wants you.”