The Solitude of Passion

by Addison Moore

  “What if it were you.” I put it back on her. I don’t give a shit that we’re arguing in front of Mitch. I glance back at him propped up on one elbow, and his gaze drops to the floor. “What if another woman walked out of the woodwork, and I pined for her under our roof—slept with her. Would you be so accommodating with a stack of fresh towels? Would you lend her your bathing suit?”

  The color bleeds from her face as she leans against the dresser for support.

  We hadn’t mentioned it since that night. I’m sure she was hoping I forgot. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure she slept with Mitch, but I didn’t need a diagram after feeling her regret the minute she stepped back in the house. She mentioned they were “together,” and I did the math. Looks like I’m good at math.

  “Max,” she expels my name in a sigh. “I’m so sorry,” she mouths the words, and it makes me wonder if it’s Mitch she’s cradling in the process.

  “I’m sorry, too.” I catch his eye, and he glares back at me. For one solid minute I contemplate barreling over and twisting his head off. Maybe I can bury it at Townsend and stop that fucking leak that’s killing my business.

  Instead, I head upstairs and hit the shower. Dial it up to a decent temperature and wish to God it was Lee pushing me into the fire breathing hell—that she were watching me—waiting for me to get out and make a baby with her—that Mitch stayed dead and buried—that he was nothing but a blip in our memory banks.

  I don’t know what the hell Hudson is going to do with that money. I think a part of me caved so easily because I want to believe he’s being the protective older brother. That he’s going to put a hit on Mitch and not gamble all our profit away like the screw-up he’s truly become.

  I turn off the water and let the steam swirl around me. So that’s it? I’ve reduced myself to murder by proxy? Pinning all my hopes on my fucking brother, of all people, to pull off the perfect felony? How the hell can I even think of burying Stella’s biological father with her present to witness the event firsthand? This isn’t what I want. I don’t want Mitch Townsend dead by some misinformed target I may have inadvertently put on his back—not now, not ever.

  I used to like Mitch. Even when he hated me, I never held it against him.

  Now I don’t know how I feel about him or the person he’s turned me into.

  12

  The Counselor

  Lee

  Dr. Van Guard’s office is on the second floor in an unassuming Spanish style building that I’ve mistaken for apartments the last ten years of its existence. Mitch and Max flank me on either side, both of whom drove here on their own, Max from Shepherd and Mitch from Townsend field where I heard he raised hell today, but that’s another issue entirely.

  Dr. Van Guard is a happy older gentleman with a circle of grey hair and a warm perennial smile. He nods as I explain our predicament, folding his hands together then pulling them apart, over and over.

  I finish with, “And, I feel like I’m married to two different men.”

  “Unusual dilemma.” His eyes widen as he digests everything I’ve told him. “I think this is something we need to tackle as a team. The three of you need to commit to coming in as a group. I think it’s best we break up the session in thirds—first with Lee and one of you, then Lee and the other, then we’ll end with the three of you together. Of course, if one of you would like to see me individually we can arrange that as well.” Mitch and Max eye each other to see who’ll cave first to the one-on-ones with the good doctor. And, just as I thought, neither of them volunteers.

  “Very well,” he pinches a smile. “First, I’d like to hear from the gentlemen. Mitch, explain to me how it is you’re doing emotionally. What did you hope would happen when you came home, and what resolution are you expecting? Realistically speaking.” He reclines deep into his chair and starts in on a never-ending nod.

  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.” Mitch takes in a lungful of air and looks over at me with a mournful expression. “When I called my brother and told him I was coming home, I specifically asked him not to tell me any details about Lee. I didn’t want to suffer through the plane ride home knowing she moved on.” He turns to me. “I’m so thankful you came to the airport.” The words push out of him with an exasperated sorrow.

  My heart breaks for Mitch all over. All of those raw emotions he must have felt and he needed to keep to himself, if just for one more day.

  “I’m glad I was at the airport, too.” I reach over and take up his hand for a moment. It feels safe to do that in here—to comfort Mitch in Max’s presence for the very first time. His features look crisper. He’s filling in, looking more like himself than ever before. He gives a brief smile and my stomach clenches just like it did in high school when I first fell in love with him.

  Mitch clears his throat. “I figured since so much time had passed that she probably remarried.” He nods over to Max. “But I guess deep down inside I thought no matter who she was with, I thought for sure she’d leave that behind for me. I would have done the same for her.”

  His words sink in my chest like a dagger, stinging, uncomfortable—making me wonder if I could die from the wound.

  Dr. Van Guard nods. “It seems reasonable. You’ve loved her all along.” He shifts his attention to the other side. “And Max? After you had a chance to process the fact Mitch was alive, what did you expect might happen?”

  It’s all eyes on Max. He looks to the floor, rotates his wrists one over the other until he gathers the strength to drag his eyes over to me. “I thought maybe …” He straightens in his seat, expands his chest with a breath until I’m sure he’ll explode. “To be honest”—he pats me on the knee—“I thought you were going to ask me to leave.” His face ignites a bright shade of crimson. “But you didn’t. You did have an indiscretion.” He sinks his words in his chest as if they had the power to fashion themselves into a blade and eviscerate him right here in the office. God knows they gutted me. “I’m one hundred percent here for you, Lee—for our family,” he says picking up my hands as if we were renewing our wedding vows. Max and his mesmerizing eyes, that infectious smile that trembles ever so slightly just for me—how could I ever hurt him when all he’s ever done was love me? “Before Mitch stepped back in our lives, we were right on track.” He drops a quick kiss to the back of my hand. “Trying for another baby, running our business shoulder to shoulder. You challenge me. There is nobody else on this planet that I’d rather be with.” His eyes glisten with tears. “I’m staying put, Lee. I’m fighting for our family, for us.” His voice breaks and he swallows hard. “It crushes everything in me to think that maybe you wouldn’t do the same.”

  A knot the size of a baseball clots up my throat, and all I can do is nod.

  Obviously coming here was a big mistake. Of course, I want my family with Max, or I would have been out the door the first day Mitch came back. Of course, I want my family with Mitch restored. He’s my husband. So is Max. Now I have two. Why is that so damn illegal?

  “Lee?” Dr. Van Guard blinks into me. “You look as if you’re in a lot of pain. Would you mind sharing your thoughts?”

  “Actually, I would mind.” I cut my gaze over to a dehydrated Ficus dying in the corner. I know exactly how those brittle leaves feel. I’m trying to hang on as best I can, but the fall seems inevitable.

  “That’s understandable.” He seems unfazed by my curt reply. “I’m going to ask one of you gentlemen to please leave the room for about fifteen minutes and wait in the lobby.”

  Max rises and shows himself out. No sooner does the door close than Mitch scoots in and wraps his warm arms around my waist.

  “Lee,” he whispers while brushing a kiss to my cheek as if it took all of his strength to wait to comfort me.

  Dr. Van Guard clears his throat. “Mitch, I noticed you were very respectful around Max.” He squints out a placid smile. It seems plausible that the good doctor never stops smiling, in fact he could deliver the worst news possible, and that perennial gri
n would be right there at the ready.

  “Sounds like I’ve got you snowed.” He presses a kiss in my neck when he says it.

  “When you moved back into the house, were you at all concerned about the strife it might cause?” He narrows in on Mitch with his dark brows, the thick creases on his forehead let us know he means business.

  Mitch glances at me before answering. “Not really.” There’s something harder about Mitch than I remember, but, then again, he’s never had to fight for my love before or anything else for that matter, and now he’s lost everything. Not that I meant to take anything from him. I would have given him my soul if he wanted it—he already has it. “Max and I have a long history.” He blinks a wry smile. “The Shepherds as a whole have an ax to grind with my family. During our junior year of high school his mother lured my dad into an affair. Long story short, it resulted in the death of my father—my family.”

  Mitch cleverly omits the salacious details of how his father actually met the grim reaper—in her bed, consumed with lust for Sheila Shepherd all the way to eternity. Come to think of it, I’ve never heard Mitch acknowledge that fact out loud.

  “I’m sorry about your loss.” Dr. Van Guard’s features dim, in honor of Mitch’s dead father before the smile springs back to his face. “And before that? Where you on speaking terms with Max?”

  “They were best friends.” I’m not shy to interject the strange fact. “Their families did everything, went everywhere together. We’ve known Max since grade school.”

  Dr. Van Guard looks amused. “So, Mitch, when you gleaned knowledge of the affair, did you end your relationship with Max cold turkey?”

  He leans back in his seat, reluctant to answer. “Something like that.”

  “Not at first,” I offer. “It came out in February, right after your Dad died, and you stopped speaking to Max that summer. There was name calling involved, but it never escalated into a fist fight or anything, did it?”

  “Nope.” He gives my waist a gentle squeeze. “Still saving my left hook for a rainy day.” He twitches a smile.

  “You see storm clouds on the horizon, Mitch?” Dr. Van Guard peels off his glasses and leans in as if to inspect him for evidence of just that.

  Mitch nods. “Category five—gathering momentum as we speak.”

  I have a feeling all unholy hell is going to break loose one day soon. Max should very well fear for his life when it comes to Mitch and his left hook. Something tells me he’s out to avenge a whole lot more than the fact Max Shepherd attached himself to me in holy matrimony. He’s out to avenge his father’s death as well.

  Dr. Van Guard excuses Mitch as Max takes his place by my side.

  Max takes up my hand as if it were made of glass. He presses a kiss over my fingers with a seam of tears already lining his lashes. I brush my fingers through his dark hair and lose myself in his cobalt eyes for a moment. My insides detonate in a vat of acid at the thought of losing Max forever.

  “You okay?” He bears into me with his earnest intent. Max always puts me first, and here I’ve shoved him into a fire. I wonder at what point he stops caring about me and starts in on hating me for taking so damn long to decide what to do. Deep inside I’ve never believed I deserved Mitch or Max’s love—anybody’s for that matter. For a long time I thought my parents left me—ran away because Katrice and I were so bad.

  “Max, you mentioned an indiscretion.” Dr. Van Guard taps his pen to his desk steady as a metronome. “Tell me what you know.”

  My stomach sinks like a stone.

  Crap. I don’t like the way he worded it. It makes it sound as if Mitch and I dished out some titillating details we’ve been harboring from him.

  He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, and I nod over at him. I want Max to purge his emotions—vomit our lives out from these past few weeks to see if we can find a way to salvage something in the process.

  “The day after Mitch got back, Lee offered to take him to breakfast.” His features harden, the muscle in his jaw pops. “And”—he chokes on the words—“they checked into a hotel instead.”

  “That’s not what happened.” My voice gives a soft wobble. “I begged you to come with us.” I glance at the doctor. “I wanted Max there, and he wouldn’t come.”

  “I stayed with Eli—he had an earache.” Max keeps his brows even with his glare.

  “Your mother would have watched him,” I say it measured, careful not to rock the boat. Oh, what the hell. “Eli had very little to do with why you didn’t get in the car that morning.” And there it is. I know for a fact I would have never slept with Mitch with Max there to watch over me. I was insane, lost in a waking dream and I needed him. I needed both of them. “I asked you, several times, to please come with me.”

  “Is it because you were weak, Lee?” Max gives a slow blink as he waits for the answer. There was not one ounce of judgment this time, just an observation he wants to quantify with the facts. “Because if you would have rephrased the invitation by telling me you were probably going to fall into bed with him if I didn’t chaperone, then yes—I would have gladly gone with you.” His tone sharpens. The temperature in the room drops about twenty degrees with Max’s icy stare. “Or was it the plan all along for me not to go?”

  Shit. This is turning into a bloodbath. This isn’t helping. It’s terminating my matrimonial union—sacrificing it like a lamb at the slaughter.

  “I didn’t plan on anything. I told you what happened. The restaurant was full, so was the dining room in the hotel. We had a concierge practically shove a key down our throats. We just needed someplace to talk in peace, that’s all.” Why in the hell did I ever volunteer to come here? All this emotional chaos makes me want to crawl into a coffin and sleep alongside my mother.

  “It was an affair, Lee,” he says it calm, almost quiet but his eyes bloom in a pink shower of pain and let me know how much this kills him. “You broke a sacred trust.” He swallows hard. “Lee,” my name comes out almost inaudible, “I forgive you.” He pulls me in and dots a heated kiss over my lips. “I’m not bringing it up ever again. It’s done for me. So this is what I’m wondering”—he shifts in his seat—“if it’s over for you like you swore to me that night, why is Mitch still occupying space in our home?”

  “Because he thinks it’s his home,” I say it weak.

  “Then maybe we should take our kids and move.”

  Max is stoic, unrelenting in his love for our family—equally devoted to his hatred toward Mitch.

  “One thing at a time.” Dr. Van Guard taps his pen. “Max—Mitch shared with us a little about your history together. What I find interesting is that there seems to be a gap of about five or six months between discovering your parents were having an affair to the disconnect in your relationship. What do you think happened?”

  “What did he say happened?” Max squints into the question as if he might have an inkling, but he’s slow to share.

  “He said it fizzled out that summer.”

  “Fizzled out is right, but I’m not sure why. I wouldn’t mind an answer to that one myself.” Max leans back and exhales. “We were hanging out long after his dad died. I was a pallbearer at his father’s funeral. We did everything together. Then I left that August to go back East, when I came back I was blackballed by Mitch and his friends. They ruled the school, so it made for a pretty lousy senior year.”

  That was the year he got together with Viv. No wonder—she was practically a pariah herself.

  “I’m sorry.” I pull him in and rest my head over his chest. His heart beats with an unsteady rhythm, and I want everything else to disappear so I can linger here and feel Max thunder beneath me for an eternity.

  “Not your fault.” He lands a soft kiss on the top of my head.

  Dr. Van Guard flicks his pen in our direction. “What did you think of Lee during high school?”

  “I worshiped her.” Max gives a sad smile.

  I blink into him, stunned. After that night we shared together, he w
ent on vacation. When he came back, he didn’t so much as look twice in my direction. I wonder what would have happened if he did—if he brought his worship front and center.

  It might have changed everything.

  Mitch

  The secretary motions for me to head back inside, so I do.

  Lee’s got a wad of tissue in her hand. Her eyes are lit up like stoplights, and she looks like she’s been dragged behind a freight train.

  What the hell did he say to her? It makes me want to snatch the gold pen the doctor has been molesting and jab Max in the eye with it.

  “Hey, you okay?” I whisper to Lee as I take a seat. She nods and takes in a quivering breath that suggests otherwise.

  “I’m glad I had an opportunity to meet with the three of you.” Dr. Van Guard strums his fingers. “Normally I like to see my clients once a week, however, this is an extraordinary situation—I think it’s important we progress a little quicker. I’d like to see you back in three or four days. Does Monday sound good to everyone?”

  We nod in turn.

  If it helps Lee shed Max like dead skin, I’ll show up every fucking day and twice on Sunday.

  Dr. V nods. “I’d like to give you some homework, but before I do I need to clarify something to you, Max.”

  Great. Clarify the fact he needs to be disposed of—quickly. I fold my arms and wait for the anvil to crack his skull in half and reveal the maggots crawling around inside.

  “Max, I’m not asking you to take a break from your marriage. In fact, quite the opposite, but what I do ask of you is to keep your mind open for the sake of helping Lee come to a clear decision of what she needs to do.” He shifts his focus. “Lee, if in your heart you feel like you’re married to two men like you mentioned, you’re going to need to do some real soul searching. I suggest you spend some serious time meditating over this and really listen to what your heart says. The homework will be quite simple. Mitch, you take Lee out on a date tomorrow night, if that works with your schedule. And, Max, you take her out the next night. This isn’t a couples night, but more of a first date if you will. Lee, I would caution you from treating either of these men with intimate relations until after you’ve come to a firm decision. It wouldn’t be fair to anybody until you’ve decided what direction you’re going to take in life. As for sleeping arrangements, I’ll let you figure those out.”