In My Head

by Schiefer, S. L.

  Walking out of the bathroom and heading back downstairs, I try to keep my mind off of everything. Normally I would be vehemently against all drug use. But I can see its appeal.

  There has to be something else I can do, something not so drastic to make me feel a little better. I have wine in the fridge, I’ve already eaten dinner so an evening glass of wine would work. Or maybe two glasses.

  Making my way into the kitchen, I go straight to the wine glasses and then grab a bottle of wine. Pouring myself a generous glass. Hopefully this will help take the edge off.

  “Hey, babe, come sit on the couch with me.” Ben is leaning kind of off to the side on the couch and he’s patting the spot in front of him. I walk over and grab one of the pillows and place it opposite from him against the arm. Laying back on the pillow, I put my feet in his lap. “I’m not sure I meant I wanted your feet on me.”

  I laugh despite myself. “Then you should have been more specific.”

  Shaking his head, he puts his arm over my legs and starts flipping through the channels. I close my eyes and enjoy the peace and quiet. Focusing on just sipping my wine, so don’t I just dump the entire contents down my throat.

  “Hey, look at this. It’s Coach Carter. Isn’t that the movie we went to the movies and watched on one of our dates?”

  Opening my eyes I glance over at the TV. Sure enough that is the movie. “Yeah, I don’t think we really watched a lot of it, though.”

  He smirks at me and this look fills his eyes. A look that tells me he’s thinking about what we did in the back of that movie theater so many years ago. “We could try to watch it again?”

  Snorting, I reply, “Ben Morris. I know you, you just want to try to repeat history.”

  “Well, duh. My wife is hot, why wouldn’t I?” He starts to slide his hand up my legs, and takes my wine from me. Leaning forward he places it on the coffee table. When he leans back he lays down on his side next to me. His hands caressing as he comes closer to my face.

  “What do you say? For old time’s sake?” He asks me in a low voice.

  I just lean forward and kiss my husband.

  IT’S BEEN A couple weeks since I’ve seen Bronson. I’ve been avoiding that park like the plague. Embarrassed that I almost let him kiss me and even more embarrassed that I ran away from him. He’s probably happy he hasn’t seen me. But I miss the peace that the park brings me.

  So I’m going back out there today. But I’m going early in the morning so I can hopefully get some walking done and I can get out of there before he shows up. I purposely stay away from the sitting area that has become our spot. Not giving in to the temptation to go there and sit down to wait.

  Lord knows I would if given the chance. Why I didn’t find somewhere else to walk, I’ll never know.

  I end up making my own trail and head back through a wooded area that has obviously never been walked through. I’m hoping I can discover a new spot for myself. And after walking about a mile I come to another opening. This one has a pond on one side and an old covered train bridge on the other.

  Stepping out of the woods, I walk towards the pond first. Bodies of water fascinate me and I like looking into them to see what is swimming around. I glance around the clearing and notice all of the wild flowers.

  Then I notice the bridge, gasping, I cover my mouth. The bridge is covered with brightly colored graffiti. Forgetting the pond, I head towards the bridge instead. My eyes darting over the paint, taking in all the designs covering it. The different colors, and the angry strokes that make up each piece.

  I have to climb up a small hill to get to the bridge. I’m slightly out of breath when I reach the top. Walking forward to stand in the center of the bridge, I turn around to take everything in.

  This bridge looks like it’s been out of working order for a very long time. Where the railroad ties would be, there is nothing but grass. There are vines that are growing up some of the posts, covering up some of the beautiful artwork.

  I walk to the very center of the structure, out where there is no covering from the sun. I put my arms out at my sides and tip my head up towards the sky, soaking up as much sunshine as possible.

  After standing there for a few minutes, I decide to lie down. The grass is surprisingly soft and it doesn’t take long for me to relax down into it. Arms out to the side, eyes closed, and nothing but peace and quiet. Exactly what I wanted.

  And with this being away from the normal path, I really don’t think I have to worry about anyone finding me.

  But that’s exactly what happens.

  I’m going to have to demand he put a bell on, because out of nowhere I hear my name. I didn’t even hear him walk up. Apparently I was too far relaxed.

  “How’d you find this place?” He throws a bag down onto the ground, but I don’t bother opening my eyes.

  “Probably the same way you did.”

  “You’ve been avoiding me.” Bronson doesn’t say it as a question, he just states it. Like it’s a fact. He’s not far from the truth.

  “I had stuff going on. I came out here today because I needed time to myself. You know, quiet.”

  “Oh, and I’m disturbing that aren’t I?” He has a slight attitude when he says that.

  Peeking open one eye, I see that he sat down right next to my head, he’s just staring at me. He doesn’t look mad, which is good. But it’s not like it really matters. “Yes, actually you are.”

  Nodding he doesn’t say anything just turns so that way he can lie down next to me. I just shake my head and close my eyes again, content in my plan to ignore him as long as he doesn’t talk we should be fine.

  But, the thing is, I can’t ignore him. The heat radiating off him is nothing like what I feel from the sun. I open my eyes again, and try to get away with looking at him without getting caught. He has his arms folded up under his head, his chest level with my head.

  It’s like he has a red X on his chest, right where my head would lay if I wanted to rest on him. He’s so close that I can smell his cologne, it’s scent enough to pull my body closer unconsciously. I scoot a tiny bit closer to him, hopefully stealthily. I seriously don’t want to be caught. That would be inherently more embarrassing than me throwing myself at him.

  I hear him shift around though, and I feel the arm that’s closest to me stretch out above my head. I freeze, waiting for him to stop moving. Then take a deep breath. This is so fucking stupid. I don’t know why I let him affect me this way. I don’t know why I don’t get up and leave.

  I must have gotten lost in my thoughts because I feel his hand touch the top of my head. He then urges me to come closer to him and pulls my head to his chest. I resist at first, even though this is exactly what I wanted. When he starts running his hands through my hair, I immediately relax.

  Without saying any words, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me practically on top of him. I bury my nose in his shirt, inhaling his scent. Wanting to imprint it in my mind, I don’t ever want to forget his smell.

  “Did you just smell me?” he asks while his chest starts shaking with silent laughter.

  I feel my face heat up, I don’t say anything though. This whole thing would just be easier if he would keep his mouth shut. I place my arm over his stomach, running my fingers across the hard planes. Shamelessly feeling the poor guy up before I settle in.

  Bronson running his hand up and down my arm plus the sound of his heart beating directly in my ear, lulls me to sleep.

  HAVE YOU EVER HAD one thing that completely consumed your every thought? Or two things? The only thing I can focus on is Bronson and possibly calling Sophie.

  Most nights Ben doesn’t get home until after I’ve fed the kids and myself. He’ll walk in the door while I’m getting ready to tuck the kids into bed, head straight to the kitchen to fix himself a plate of food, and then sit in the living room eating and watching TV. When he’s finished, he’ll place his plate in the sink, go up to take a shower and without saying more than a couple sentences t
o me. After he gets out of the shower each night, he’ll come down the stairs and tell me he’s going to bed because “he’s so exhausted.”

  Welcome to the club, dude. All I want to do is sleep, too, but I don’t get that luxury.

  And tonight is no exception. He comes down the stairs like clockwork, but instead of pausing on the bottom step he comes into the living room and sits down on the couch with me.

  Tearing my eyes away from the screen, I glance over at my husband. He’s looking mindlessly at the TV. Probably not really watching what’s playing on the screen. Even with what little light the TV offers I can see the bags under his eyes. He looks more than just exhausted. He looks like he’s running on fumes.

  “Hey,” I say softly, reaching my hand out and lightly placing it on his leg.

  Ben turns his head slowly. His tired eyes lock with mine. “I feel like I haven’t been home much lately. And it’s killing me. I miss you and the kids so much.”

  In that moment, I can tell that he truly means what he’s saying.

  And in the next instant guilt settles into my stomach. My heart physically hurts. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband. I miss him not being here. But I think I miss the idea of him more than him.

  He’s a great guy, a great dad, and a perfect husband. But somewhere along the lines, I’m coming to miss Bronson more. Laying out on the bridge with him, me falling asleep on his chest. No kids to nag me. Just absolute quiet and calm.

  Being in Bronson’s arms made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. I felt free from myself in that moment. Not a care in the world. Nothing to hold me back.

  And then I came back to my reality. Back to my messy house, my whining kids, and nonexistent husband. And then he says things like how much he misses us. And it totally and utterly breaks my heart.

  I pull my hand back. “How’s the remodel coming?”

  He scrubs his hands down his face before answering, “It’s coming, when we got in there and started tearing things down everything went downhill fast. We’ve had to replace a lot of the plumbing because it was all bad. The electrical wasn’t up to code. It’s one thing after another. I’m hoping that in another month or two we’ll be done. As long as nothing else pops up in the meantime.”

  Another couple months without my husband around as much? Fantastic. “Well, you do what you need to do. We’ll manage around here.” I try really hard to keep the bitterness out of my voice. But I know I fail epically.

  He turns on the couch to face me, bringing his leg up so he can fully look at me. “Babe, I know this isn’t what you signed on for. But this is already happening. I can’t back out now. I promise you after this is over, I will not be renovating anything else. Even this house. You want something different we’ll just build a whole new house to your liking.”

  His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to reassure me. And it almost worked. Almost. I nod. “I really don’t think we need another house. This house is perfect for us. I love it.”

  “I know, Lyla. I’m really sorry. I didn’t think remodeling would be this much of a hassle until we got in there.” He reaches a hand out towards my face, caressing my cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay with me being gone so much?”

  His eyes hold mine captive, I have to blink a couple times to catch my bearings before I can speak. “I’m totally fine with it.”

  His hand never leaves my face. Probably so he could hold it towards him to make sure he can see my face and eyes when he talks to me about this. “I know you say you’re fine, but if you aren’t or if you feel overwhelmed, you need to tell me. I can’t help you figure stuff out if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I know, Ben. I’m fine. The kids are good. The house is staying clean, I’m getting everything done that needs done. I don’t need help.” I try to put as much conviction behind my words as possible.

  Nodding, probably to placate me and just let it go. He says, “Let’s go to bed, babe.”

  He stands up and holds a hand out to me, and I slip mine into his. Pulling on my hand, Ben helps me to stand up from the couch. Anything that I wanted to say at this moment wouldn’t be the most appropriate timing. So I just follow my husband up the stairs and into our bed.

  He pulls me to a stop at the foot of our bed, directly in the center. I’m standing there in only one of his thin shirts with only panties underneath. Lifting and placing his hands on my ribs, right next to my breasts, he slips them down until he reaches the bottom of the shirt. Gripping it with his fingers, he pulls it up and off me. His eyes roam my body, staying on my breasts a moment longer than the rest.

  Ben lifts his hand and pushes my hair off of my shoulder, and he leans in to place kisses against the side of my neck. Lingering only for a second in each spot. Each kiss causes waves of goose bumps to break out across my body.

  Stripping me of my panties, I’m left standing in front of him completely naked. I bring my hands to his shorts and push them down off of his hips. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I fist his cock in my hand, starting a slow rhythm of stroking my hand back and forth.

  In just a few strokes he’s completely hard. I look up at his face, an involuntary gasp leaves my mouth from the heat I see in his eyes. Urging me back further onto the bed, he follows me up. Neither of us saying a word. He quickly grasps his cock when he’s close to me, lining himself up he pushes in slowly.

  He grabs both of my hands with his, lacing his fingers through mine and bringing them up above my head on the bed. Looking into my eyes he starts to move inside of me. Slowly pulling out and pushing back in.

  This is the first time in a long time that my husband has made love to me. My eyes prick from the tears building up, I try to blink to keep them away. Not wanting Ben to see how emotional this is making me. But he knows me too well. He sees me trying to hide it.

  “I know, babe. I need to be here more, I need to take care of you.”

  The fact that he believes my tears are tears of wanting and longing makes me cry more. My tears are from the guilt piling up in my heart. My heart feels like it’s not beating as one with my husband. Ever since Bronson entered my life, he’s made me see how free I could feel. But I don’t need the freedom from him. I need to find something else to give me the same feeling that Bronson does.

  Every time I’m with Bronson more of my heart breaks not longing for the love of my life. Ben leaning down and capturing my lips in a kiss brings my thoughts back to the present. He sounds like he’s close to coming, and I’m nowhere near there.

  And tonight is the first time I’ve ever had to fake an orgasm with my husband. The thoughts and guilt have overridden everything else.

  Ben finishes in me, pulls out and collapses beside me, gathering me into his arms. He pulls my back to his front and wraps his arms around me. Placing a kiss on the back of my head, he whispers, “I love you, so much.”

  More tears collecting in my eyes, on a broken whisper I say, “I love you too.” It’s the first time in my life those words have felt like a lie to me.

  AFTER I WOKE UP this morning, I called my mom to see if she could come get the kids. I told her I wanted to clean the house. Feeling slightly guilty from lying to my mom. But, she’s the least of my worries. I fly around the house in a frenzy getting everything ready for the kids.

  Not long after I finally have everything ready, she walks in the front door. Kay immediately running into her legs and just about knocking her down.

  “Kay, give Gramma some space, baby girl,” I tell my girl.

  “It’s okay, Lyla. I’m sure she’s just excited since she gets to see me more often now.” She pats Kay on the head and looks at me. She must be really looking at me. Her eyebrows draw in, causing her forehead to crease with worry. “Lyla, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, Mom. I’m fine. Why?” I nervously start shifting around.

  Narrowing her eyes at me she replies, “I’m sure you know that when a woman says she’s fine, she usually isn’t. Also, I’m yo
ur mom so I know when something isn’t right with you. You’ve been wanting me to take the kids more often. Not that I’m complaining, but you used to have a panic attack when I wanted Kay for the day.”

  “I’ve just realized that I can get more done around the house if the kids aren’t here to mess up what I’ve just cleaned. And since you’re a lot closer than you were before, I can really utilize your help.” I smile, hoping to make it seem like everything’s fine. Like I’m not completely losing my mind.

  “All right, sweetheart. But, you know if you ever needed to talk, you can talk to me right? You don’t have to keep anything to yourself. Even if it’s something you don’t want to share with Ben, I’m always here.”

  Walking towards her I wrap my arms around her in a hug. Hoping to reassure her, and myself, that everything will be okay. “I know, Mom, I know. I promise if I need you, I’ll call.”

  “Well, all right then. Okay, who is ready to go to Gramma’s house?” When Kay starts jumping up and down, Mom starts laughing. “All right, pretty girl, let’s get your brother out in the car so we can head out. That way your mom can get some cleaning done around the house today.”

  Ushering them out the door, I slowly close it after saying my goodbyes. Walking into the kitchen I go find a wine glass. It’s nine in the morning and I’m ready to drink. My nerves are really getting to me though. The reality that I just sent my kids to my parents’ house so I can sit around all day is setting in.

  I go sit down on the couch and grab my Kindle with my glass of wine. I lean forward and place the glass on the coffee table. Pushing the button to bring my Kindle to life, I start flipping through my library to see if there is something I have that I haven’t read. I’m sure there is, I buy books all the time without reading the samples then I forget I have them.

  While I’m still scrolling, my phone beeps from the coffee table. I discard the kindle next to me on the couch, and lean forward. Grabbing my wine, again, and my phone. I swipe the screen open, seeing a text from Ben.