Oh, shit.
My mind blurs with activity. Has she left me? If she has then that’s a little weak considering her recent behavior. Has she gone to him? I don’t know if we will come back from that. What do I do? Do I stay here, look for her, call her? I pride myself on working under pressure and dissolving a crisis but I am completely out of my depth here.
My mind shuts down as I work on autopilot. I dress quickly and leave the apartment with my phone pressed to my ear. I call her repeatedly, but she doesn’t pick up.
Finding myself at The Nest without any intention, I peer through the window. It’s closed. It isn’t even midday yet. I can’t shake the feeling she is in there though. I back away, glancing up at the apartment above. I bet he lives there.
“BLUE!” I shout, my words running from adrenaline and fear rather than rationality. There is no answer and so I call him again, and again, and again. People are looking, I’m sure of it. I don’t care. My wife is in there and I’m not leaving without her.
“What the fuck are you doing?” a voice calls. Blue is leaning out of the window, shirtless. My blood is boiling. I’m faint from the heat but my body is tense and alive.
“Get. Down. Here!”
“Are you out of your mind?” he yells, looking back into his room worriedly. I fucking knew it.
“Get down here now or I swear to God I will smash my way in!”
“Fuck, Reid!” He’s pissed but it doesn’t come near what I’m feeling. “Stay there.”
The window closes and I pace the pavement, trying to calm my breathing and unclench my fists. I fail. Minutes pass before Blue opens the door. I push past him into the bare bar, shouting for Darlene and hearing nothing but my echo in return.
“I don’t know who you think you are barging in here like this, but you need to calm the fuck down,” Blue snarls, but I ignore him, looking everywhere, including the toilets, for my wife.
“Where is she? I know she’s here!”
“You think Darlene’s here? You’re insane...”
His eyes drift to the door behind the bar. It must lead to his apartment. I fucking knew it. Only now do I realize that he’s half naked. I’ll kill him. Pure, ugly rage rules my mind as I lunge for him. Anticipating my actions, he sidesteps my attack, dodging clear of my grip. Before I know it, we are matched in aggression, my hand around his neck and his fisted in my shirt. I see nothing but my own hatred for this person who has taken everything that was ever important to me. I see my own failure and all that I’m lacking as a man. Blue is everything that I’m not and I hate him. Hate him.
I tighten my grip around his throat but he pushes my arm away, his strength outdoing mine. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” I yell, meaning it.
“Chill the fuck out!” he counters, shoving me. I don’t relax my grip and we’re soon on the floor. Blue’s weight puts him on top of me but I throw a punch anyway, and another, growling when he pulls out of my reach.
Shocked and pissed off, he hits me.
Fucker packs a good punch.
My head spins to the side as I absorb the pain in my temple, instantly feeling warmth trickling from my brow. “Shit,” he pants as he presses me hard into the ground. “I didn’t want to fucking hit you, Reid! Just, you did this yourself. Calm it, yeah?”
I don’t.
I’m trying to buck him off of me when the door behind the bar opens. I turn my head, totally prepared to find a disappointed Darlene. What I’m unprepared for is a semi-naked girl. She’s buttoning up a black shirt that only just covers her ass and she leaves it loose over her huge chest.
It’s not Darlene. It’s not Darlene. It’s not Darlene.
She looks to Blue, worried. “What the hell’s going on?” she asks. Recognition comes as she sweeps back her long dark hair. She works the bar.
“Nothing, Nina. Go back upstairs, I’ll be two minutes.”
Relief floods my body like I have been doused in a cold stream of water. I am immediately thankful and yet equally appalled, both at his apparent actions and mine. I need to get out of here and hope that my being here never gets back to Darlene.
“See?” he minces, backing off of me as my head falls back against the floor. It’s not her.
I struggle to right myself, feeling a little dizzy, but I eventually stand and attempt to brush myself off. I wipe at my brow, finding a healthy amount of blood.
“My mistake,” I snarl as I walk past Blue, bumping shoulders with lingering anger.
“Big mistake. Why would you think she was here?”
“You’re friends, right?” I reply sarcastically as I walk out the door.
I hear him murmur what sounds like, “Apparently,” and then I feel his eyes burning into me. I don’t care. I should have killed him.
I stand on the sidewalk, unsure of where to go next. I try and call her again but nothing. Passersby give me strange looks at my less than acceptable appearance. A little old lady asks if she can help me but I kindly shrug off her concern.
Walking with no purpose, no destination in mind, I find myself circling the park. The sun is bright and harsh but its warmth is stolen by the sharp breeze. I think about sitting here and enjoying the sound of the fountain in the hope of it drowning out the echoing worries that pound against my skull. I know it won’t though. I turn, planning on going home and waiting for my wife.
I don’t wait long.
She’s jogging around the corner as I step onto the sidewalk.
“Darlene,” I call.
She doesn’t look directly at me, but sighs as she slows to a halt. I don’t know what to say and she offers nothing. Instead, she bends and stretches, controlling her breathing, and then walks into the building. She goes straight to the open elevator and steps inside, holding the doors for me as she looks at her feet. I rush to her side, confused and worried by her silence. Chancing a look at her as the elevator ascends, I can see that she isn’t as calm as she would like to appear. Her bottom lip is being chewed vigorously and she is picking at her fingernails.
We exit the elevator and walk to our apartment down the hall in complete silence. The silence is loud, deafening in fact. I can’t concentrate on anything other than the fact we are not talking. She’s not screaming or crying and I’m not explaining myself.
The door closing behind us acts like a starting whistle as we both turn to face each other. She gasps loudly as she takes in my bleeding eye. I’d almost forgotten about it. “What did you do?” she asks, immediately rushing to inspect it.
“Nothing, it’s fine.”
“This probably needs stitches!” she worries, looking for a clean cloth, finding it, and wetting it. She guides me to a chair before standing between my legs and gently cleaning the wound. I don’t argue, thankful to be sitting after feeling so giddy.
“How did you get this?”
“It was a mistake, forget it.”
“Reid, please tell me you didn’t do something stupid?”
“I fell.”
“Is that code for doing something stupid?” she asks and it warms my entire body when I watch her mouth twitch with an almost smile. There’s hope.
“Perhaps,” I admit, almost smiling too. “But it doesn’t matter.” I wrap my hands around her waist, holding her firm as I tell her, “This matters. Let me explain.”
She tries to back away but I hold her firm. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know what has happened with you and…her. I just...I want you to stop it.” Her chin is quivering but she’s determined to hold it in. I open my mouth to talk but she places her trembling fingers over my lips. “If you can stop it then I can pretend it never happened. I just...I don’t want you to leave me.” Her volume drops as well as her eyes. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Soft fingers move round to feather the lightest of touches along my jaw before she leans down and brushes her lips against mine. Her eyelids flutter closed and she intensifies the kiss. My mind is frozen in confusion, unable to react the
same way my body can. My hands pin her to me, slipping under the material on her back. Her skin is hot and a little damp with sweat allowing my fingers to glide easily over the dimples at the base of her spine.
I feel a little shudder before she pulls away. Standing tall, she covers her face, embarrassed. She’s crying softly before I can stop her. I pull her hands from her face and pull them to my lips, kissing them before I talk. “You didn’t let me explain,” I say gently.
“I don’t want to hear it. It’ll be too hard.”
“That’s exactly it. There’s nothing to hear. It’s all a huge misunderstanding.” She rolls her eyes before trying to look away but I hold her firm. I explain what happened the night that I met Quinn. She seems dubious at first so I hold out my phone for her to call James to back up the story, or even Quinn herself, but I see the belief in her eyes and what I think is a shadow of her own guilt.
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes, I guess. Maybe I overreacted,” she says, her features pinched as she tries to make sense of everything I have just relayed.
“It was a stupid thing to do, I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I just got...scared.” She’s looking away from me. I can see her mind working double time. She’s thinking about her own infidelity, I know it. I raise the material on her stomach and linger a kiss on her skin, needing to drown out her thoughts. We can’t obsess over what has already happened anymore. I know why she did it. She knows why she did it. What we need to concentrate on now is not allowing our relationship to become so vulnerable again.
“Don’t be sorry. I understand…” I guide her legs around me until she is straddling me. After wiping errant tears from her cheeks I bury my head in her neck. “…I love you.”
“I love you too.”
32
DARLENE
Sunday night was spent watching television and reading books. The much needed calm after a mammoth storm. My mind felt like it had been kneaded into a doughy mess only to be told I had to separate the ingredients again. I had gone over every different scenario that could have led to that text message and then I had weighed up my many options. What it really came down to was what I would expect if the tables were turned. I can only hope that if ever Reid finds out about my affair he will be able to find it in himself to forgive me and give me a second chance. With that in mind I prepared myself to forgive him. I tried to understand his motives behind his mistake and the ability to empathize came all too easily.
When it became clear that he was innocent after all, stupid but innocent, the guilt came back tenfold. I had jumped to conclusions based on my own actions, not taking a second to think. With Reid’s calmness and understanding came more waves. How could I ever match his character? The love that he has for me is only matched by his patience. I have to pray that if my dirty secret ever airs he will call upon that patience to see us both through.
I came so close to telling him. So close. But I could neither find the courage nor the vocabulary to even begin to explain how I had deceived him, how I had played the deciding part in driving a wedge between us, and how it is only recently, with the strength of his love, that I have found it within myself to call an end to it. I can’t do it. And with my weakness comes the curse of my own distrust.
I’m struggling to keep our issues separated and it’s affecting our marriage deeply. I never thought I would worry about Reid cheating. He’s just not that guy, but I’m not that girl...I wasn’t that girl. Who knows what makes a cheater. I’ve always judged a cheater as someone with no morals or no real love for their partner, but perhaps even the strongest of loves aren’t impenetrable. All I can hope is that the dramas are finally behind us and we can work to restore our relationship as we have been lately.
After a peaceful Sunday Reid has gone back to work and I have spent the majority of the day with Cash. He’s always my first port of call in hard times, well, he was. I find myself digging through my roots, hitting some Tammy Wynette and Patsy Cline, my mama’s favorites. I wonder what she would make of my life at the moment. I doubt she would have much sympathy. She told me this move would be a huge mistake. Maybe she was right, but admitting that would surely spell disaster.
In preparation for Reid’s return I am in the kitchen cooking. Well, simmering. The chili is ready and waiting. I am, in fact, staring. The vase that has been home to a variety of flowers of late is currently empty. The last batch was my beautiful sunflowers that Reid drunkenly knocked over. Maybe I should get some more before Reid fills it with another gas station purchase.
Reid arrives with a big smile, telling me to eat dinner quickly and get dressed because we are going out. I do as instructed, throwing questions at him about his plans but he bounces them right back. Whatever his surprise is he is proud. His grin is wide and smug and I can’t help but chuckle as he herds me out of the door.
He remains silent in the car. I know it’s so that he doesn’t let anything slip; he has a loose tongue when he is excited. I don’t know Chicago well, having only prioritized learning my way around the south loop, but when we cross the river I can take a good guess at where we’re going.
Reid parks up and runs around to open my door, taking my hand like a gentleman and escorting me up some steps.
Steps to the Willis Tower.
My smile matches his now, but he is yet to say anything until we reach the elevator. “We’ve been failing as tourists. Apparently, this is a must,” he whispers, guiding me into the elevator with his hand soft against my lower back. Butterflies awaken in my stomach as we travel up and up.
“How far does this thing go?”
“One hundred and three floors.”
My mouth hangs open as we continue to climb. “That’s pretty scary.”
“Why? You’re not scared of heights.”
“No, I’m scared of falling.”
He chuckles lightly, tightening his hand around mine. “I’ll catch you.”
“I know,” I say, although it comes out as a whisper. “It’s quiet here. If it’s a tourist must then you’d think it’d be busier.”
“I may have called in a favor,” he explains before flashing me that lopsided smile and dazzling me with his wicked greens. I don’t have time to quiz him on his efforts because the doors finally open up into an expansive room splashed with orange and black. A huge sculpture that reads 103 is standing proudly in the center and various text litters the walls.
Reid knows exactly where he is going as he guides me through the room. We glide past more art and more text, and even computer screens. I’m unable to explore any of it though as I am hurriedly pulled along.
With a devilish smile Reid teases, “We don’t want to be late.”
“Late for what?”
He brings his index finger to his lips and shushes me. I giggle at his playfulness and allow him to have this moment question-free.
We enter yet another elevator and Reid stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. When the car moves, a screen above the door lights up and details the history of the building. I try to listen, I really do, but Reid’s breath is teasing my neck. It’s an act of purpose. He knows that my neck is my Achilles.
The doors open and we enter another large room. No color on the walls and no statues, nothing to distract from the surreal view that screams at us from each bordering window. I jump a little as a man greets us to the right. Reid takes two glasses of champagne from him, handing one to me. I’m speechless. I don’t know how he managed to do all of this and I’m not sure that I want to.
Why ruin the magic?
“Come,” he says, taking my hand and kissing it before leading the way to the main attraction. In front of us is a small boxy room, static, but the size of a slim elevator car. It sticks out from the building, sitting almost half a mile above Chicago. Its walls, floor, and ceiling are entirely see-through and Reid is expecting me to stand in there. I look at him like he is crazy, but he drops my hand and steps out into the box. It�
��s as if he is walking on air, surrounded completely by the spectacle that is Chicago.
He’s not looking though, he’s watching me, beckoning me, challenging me.
I accept.
I step tentatively onto the glass floor as if my weight alone is going to send us plummeting to the city below.
“You can never resist a challenge,” Reid says, scooping my hand up again and turning us to face outwards.
“Wow,” is all I can manage. Reid manages even less than that. I don’t know where to look; the floor which makes me feel nauseous, or to the horizon that is so beautiful it leaves me breathless. The sky is turning a little yellow as the sun bleeds out lazily before it leaves.
Realization dawns.
“You brought me the sunset,” I whisper, feeling a little choked with emotion.
“You know I’d buy you the world if I could.” Reid lowers his mouth to my temple and puckers his lips softly. I turn to meet him, addressing his lips with my own before resting my head on his shoulder and working hard to solidify this moment in my mind forever.
We pick out different landmarks, arguing playfully when our limited knowledge of Chicago fails us. We compare this sky to the other skies we have seen, both separately and together. It doesn’t seem as vast as the sky that sits above the Arizona deserts or as blue as the sky that spans the oceanic width of LA, but mixed so unnaturally with the silvery grey buildings that attempt to climb it, this sky holds its own.
As the day mutates into night a sharp line of orange balances on the horizon. Indigo descends, molding the two extremes and we stand silenced by its brilliance. With the night come the stars, peeking out from the ever present clouds, offering themselves for our pleasure. When Earth looks this brilliant it’s hard to tell where heaven begins.
The world feels so big here, dwarfing me, us, our problems. Everything seems insignificant when reminded of how expansive the universe is. It’s a humbling feeling and I hold onto it as I turn into Reid’s embrace, careful not to spill the last drop of champagne from our glasses. Reid wraps his free arm around me, kissing the top of my head.
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