Falling for the Unexpected (Life Unexpected Book 1)

by Rachel Lyn Adams

  I climbed the two flights of stairs to our apartment, which we had moved into a couple months before Stella was born. It was a two bedroom in a nice part of San Diego. I unlocked the door and immediately saw Brad sitting in the living room playing some video game. He was quite animated, yelling at the screen and moving around with the controller. He didn’t acknowledge me as I closed the door and set my purse on the counter. Since I was hungry and Brad likely was too, I wanted to eat dinner before getting comfy. I moved to the kitchen to prepare our plates. I grabbed a beer for him and a water bottle for me then carried everything over to the couch, knowing Brad wouldn’t want to move over to our small dining room table to eat.

  “Hey, can you take a break from that for a minute?” I asked, setting his plate on the coffee table.

  “Yeah.” Brad tossed his controller down and switched the mode to regular TV where some sort of car show was playing. “This actually looks pretty good,” he said and then dug into the pot roast and vegetables. It was probably my favorite thing on the menu at the restaurant. He gave me a look of appreciation and it made me happy that he was enjoying it as well.

  Kind words from him, a cordial moment like this, were few and far between so I remained silent as to not break the spell. For a brief second, the illusion that we were a happily married couple almost felt possible.

  I couldn’t remember a time growing up where someone spoke kindly to me. In my childhood I had seen more than my fair share of physical and emotional abuse. As I got older and moved around in foster care, I was mostly ignored. I knew that witnessing beatings and being neglected had a profound effect on me and was the reason why I tolerated Brad’s behavior. Did that make it worse, knowing his treatment of me was poor but accepting it anyway? Lately, I was starting to wonder if I was repeating the patterns of my childhood. Of keeping silent, enduring the problems, and just trying to get by.

  In truth, I was all grown up, but very little had actually changed. Brad and I had both settled for this life and sometimes I thought it was enough. But I was learning that having a family and being a family were two very different things. In many ways, my casual relationship with Brad hadn’t changed since we’d first met. We still didn’t know the little things about each other, like what made us happy or what our goals in life were. Brad had felt obligated to do the right thing, and acted on that. But he wasn’t invested in our relationship, just physically here, and every day, that became more apparent. I hadn’t known what to expect when we married, I’d just hoped for the best. But hoping didn’t make things happen or our lives better.

  I thought back to a specific couple as I ate, blindly watching the TV show and not really tasting the food. However long they’d known each other, be that just recently or not, Courtney and Kyle had clearly been into each other. Kyle was not shy about showing his interest. He was engaging and attentive, talking to her and listening, but he was respectful at the same time. I couldn’t recall a time when Brad had doted on me, or even smiled warmly at me, just because, or wanted to hold my hand. When we were out and about—and that too was a rare event—he always acted like he didn’t really know me, or Stella, for that matter. I looked at Brad, who kept his own eyes on the TV and didn’t attempt any conversation with me at all.

  For the next half hour, we continued to eat, but Brad seemed to be filled with anxious energy. His leg never stopped bouncing up and down and he kept fidgeting with his utensils. I knew something was up when he literally jumped up off the couch to take his plate, and mine when I was finished, to the kitchen.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Uh, yeah.” He wouldn’t look at me as he set our plates in the sink. “I had an energy drink right before you came home. Guess the caffeine is getting to me,” he explained.

  I got up to help him in the kitchen and as soon as I walked in, Brad grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall and then his lips were crashing down hard on mine. I gasped at the suddenness of his movements and he took advantage of that and shoved his tongue into my mouth. Confused by his abruptness but also slightly turned on, I started to kiss him back. Our relationship was far from perfect, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have needs that I turned to my husband to fulfill. Sex had been the one way I would allow myself to feel close to someone and I wanted to feel close to my husband.

  When he finally broke the kiss, he turned away from me. It took me a moment to catch my breath. “What was that?” I asked, a little dazed by what had happened.

  He must have mistaken my question because he started shouting. “What? I can’t kiss my wife? Jesus Christ, Simone! What the fuck is your problem?”

  Whatever arousal I had been feeling was quickly dissipating due to his outburst. “I don’t have a problem. You caught me off guard, that’s all. I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly in an effort to calm him down.

  He turned back around and his eyes had taken on a dark quality. I wasn’t sure if it was lust or anger, but both possibilities made me nervous. I was suddenly five years old again watching my parents fight in the kitchen. I was too young at the time to comprehend what was happening. All I knew was they would fight and things would either end with them suddenly kissing and leaving me alone as they went to their room, or my father beating the crap out of my mother. I would often run to my room not wanting to see how things would end.

  “We haven’t fucked in a month, Simone. I thought that’s what you had in mind for tonight,” Brad finally said, bringing me out of my memories.

  “Well, yeah, I did,” I responded, and that was the truth. I was hoping we would spend some time talking and then eventually end up in bed together. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen like this.

  “Well then, what are we waiting for?” he asked while grabbing my hand and pulling me to our bedroom.

  Once we were through the door, he pushed me up against the wall again and started pulling up my shirt. He was kissing me roughly and sucking on my neck hard. While it felt rushed, I tried to go along with it. I wasn’t sure if not having sex for a while was making him impatient, but I tried to relax and be in the moment.

  He ripped the shirt over my head and immediately his lips moved down to my breasts. I was trying to focus on the sensations but he was all over the place. He pulled the cups of my bra down and drew one nipple into his mouth while pinching the other one between his fingers. He was not being gentle with me and I yelped when he bit down firmly on the nipple between his teeth.

  “What?” Brad said mockingly, moving up to my neck. “You used to like it rough.”

  I pushed gently on his chest. “Can you just slow down a little bit?” I asked.

  “Fine,” he huffed, using the wall to push away from me. “You want to be in control then why don’t you go ahead and undress me?”

  That wasn’t exactly what I had meant, but I did as he instructed, hoping to change the pace a bit. I moved toward him and reached for the button of his jeans. I leaned up to kiss him softly, slowly moving my tongue against his lips. I continued to kiss him deeply while undoing his jeans. I pushed the denim down taking his boxers with them.

  “Get on your knees,” he demanded, catching me off guard again, but I did as he requested. “I need you to suck my cock, now.”

  I looked up at him hoping to make a connection since he sounded distant. Instead, his eyes were screwed closed and his hands were fisted at his sides. The deep crimson color on his face made him look angry. Not wanting to upset him more, I moved my lips to the head of his dick and kissed the tip. I took him in my mouth going as far as I could before engaging my gag reflex. When he hit the back of my throat, he fisted my hair in both hands and started pumping into my mouth at a furious pace. I tried to slow him down by putting pressure on his hips with both my hands, but he ignored me. I no longer wanted to prolong this and instead started praying he would finish quickly.

  He abruptly pulled free of my mouth and I gasped for breath. He yanked me up off the floor and pushed me onto the be
d. I tried to flip over onto my back but he was already on the bed between my legs. He pushed my pants and panties down, and then grabbed my hips roughly, pulling them up so he could enter me from behind.

  He thrusted into me violently, not caring if I was ready or not. I buried my face into the comforter to keep him from hearing me yell out. I’m not sure why I muffled my scream. He needed to know that he was hurting me. Instead, I cried into the bed while he continued to take me roughly. In that moment, I was becoming someone I never wanted to be. Even the desire to provide Stella with an intact family wasn’t a good enough reason to tolerate this behavior.

  His movements became more frantic and he grabbed my hair to pull my body up off the bed. This time I couldn’t keep quiet and I shouted out in pain. For some reason that seemed to spur him on and he shot forward even harder. A few agonizing minutes later, I felt his release inside of me.

  He pulled out of me and immediately put his boxers back on. “Thanks. I needed that,” he said casually as he walked out of our bedroom and back to play his video games.

  I lay motionless on the bed, completely stunned by what had transpired, and knowing I couldn’t live like this. Brad wasn’t known for being a gentle lover or really caring about my needs, but this went far beyond that. He was completely detached from what was happening and there was absolutely no care for my well-being. I felt used and degraded. Needing to wash Brad off of me, I stumbled to the bathroom to clean up. The pain I felt while walking fueled my outrage. I decided I didn’t want to see him any more that night so I put on my pajamas after my shower, and climbed back into bed. As I lay in bed, I tried to figure out why Brad acted that way tonight and I couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, I fell asleep crying into my pillow.

  *****

  The sunlight shining in through my bedroom window woke me up and I could hear someone rummaging around in the bathroom. Figuring it was Brad getting ready for whatever he had planned today, I decided to stay in bed and pretend to still be asleep. He’d stayed in the living room last night, which wasn’t unusual, but I was grateful for it. I had enough trouble sleeping as it was, but knowing he was next to me would have made it even harder to get some rest.

  While my intention was to ignore him, Brad had other ideas. “Hey, are you awake?” he asked somewhat gruffly when he walked back into our bedroom.

  I sighed, and slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows. He was standing by the door in tan cargo shorts and a white T-shirt. His blonde hair was still damp from his shower and he looked handsome, but his good looks no longer gave me butterflies. “Yes,” I said, only feeling capable of one-word answers.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked, not looking me in the eye. “Are you mad about last night?”

  I glared at him. “Mad?” I asked, incredulously. “Of course, I’m mad. You hurt me!”

  “Whatever,” he responded agitatedly. “I don’t want to argue with you. Just wanted to let you know that I’m going out with some buddies today. I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

  With that, he walked out of our bedroom. As I lay back down in bed, I could hear him grab something from the kitchen and then I heard the click of our front door. My mind was racing. I knew I needed to make some changes and decide whether my future included Brad or not, because this wasn’t working for me.

  I heard my text notification go off when I finally got out of bed. I grabbed my phone from the side table next to me and checked the display. I was happy to see that it was from my coworker Kayla.

  Kayla: Do you have time for coffee this morning?

  I didn’t have to pick up Stella from Brad’s mom until lunchtime. So some time out with a friend definitely sounded like a good thing.

  Me: I do. When and where do you want to meet?

  Kayla: How about Starbucks on Mission at 10?

  Me: Perfect! I’ll see you then.

  I looked at the clock and realized I only had an hour to get ready and make the ten-minute drive to the coffee shop.

  I opened the drawer in my bedside table and searched for ibuprofen, hoping for some relief since I was sore all over. Then I hopped into the shower and started to wash my hair. My scalp was still tender after the way Brad had pulled my hair. Taking care to be gentle with those spots, I rinsed the shampoo out and then found my favorite citrus body wash and lathered up.

  After drying off, I decided to choose an outfit that would help elevate my mood. I settled on a black maxi skirt with a white chevron pattern. I selected my favorite pair of black strappy sandals and a white cardigan over my black tank top to complete the outfit.

  Since my long, thick hair took too long to dry, I decided to pull it up into a bun on the top of my head. I added a little mascara and lip-gloss to complete my ensemble, and was out the door.

  I pulled up to the coffee shop right at ten and saw my friend sitting at a table inside by the window. Kayla and I met a couple years ago when she started waitressing at the Ocean View. We were the two youngest servers, about the same age, and had hit it off right away. She was tall and thin with typical California looks of lightly tanned skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was the perfect contrast to my darker features. Her shoulder-length hair was half up and made her heart-shaped face look even younger. In addition to working at the restaurant, she was also going to school to get her nursing degree.

  When I’d needed a girls' night out, she’d been there for me and, in a pinch, she had babysat for me as well. Stella absolutely loved her, and for someone like me who didn’t have very many friends, she had been a godsend.

  “Hi, girlie! I already ordered you a chai tea latte so come sit your butt down,” Kayla said as soon as I walked through the door. Her friendly face made me feel so much better, like someone actually cared about me.

  “Thank you for the drink and for asking me to come out this morning,” I said, sitting down and then wincing a little. I’d have to be a little more careful until I didn’t feel so achy.

  “Well,” she drawled out, wrapping her hands around her cup, “we haven’t hung out for a few weeks—and being at work together does not count—so I thought it was time for a catch-up session.”

  I smiled a little, taking a long sip of my latte. I instantly felt less stressed, and more like a normal twenty-one-year-old. Kayla was my closest friend and she knew many details of my marriage that I didn’t share with others. Like the fact that Brad had been engaged to another woman when I found out I was pregnant with Stella. More importantly, she always listened without judgment and would offer advice if I asked.

  “Looks like date night went well,” she remarked, grinning. She leaned forward, eyeing the dark mark on my neck that I’d completely forgotten to cover up. “I want all the details!” Since she was at work last night, Kayla knew of my plans for my ‘date’ with Brad.

  Five little words and last night flashed in my mind. At how horrible it’d been. Every feeling flooded my senses. And that simple request had me bursting into tears.

  “Oh, my God,” Kayla said lowly. She moved closer and rubbed my back gently. I tensed a little then relaxed. When I got emotional and someone touched me, I would sometimes flinch. It was a subconscious reflex left over from my childhood, but right now I felt comforted since I trusted Kayla. “Simone… are you okay?”

  The concern in her voice was reassuring and I didn’t feel as alone in this. It hit me that I’d held back what I’d felt last night and this morning from Brad, but I couldn’t now, not with Kayla. I was shaking, my hands trembling, and I felt so cold inside. It took me a full ten seconds to stop crying and take a few calming breaths. A couple people nearby gave us funny looks, but I didn’t care. I looked down into my latte, trying to find the words. “Date night didn’t go exactly how I planned,” I finally answered in a hushed whisper. I sounded nasally, but at least I’d stopped sobbing. I sniffed, wiping my nose on a napkin and dabbing at my eyes.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” Kayla asked, giving me an encouraging smile to continue.

>   I was too ashamed to tell her much else.

  “What happened?” she asked again, not letting it go, not because she was nosy, but because she was actually concerned about me.

  “When I got home, Brad seemed a bit out of sorts. He blamed it on the energy drink he had before I got there. We ate dinner and he barely said two words to me…” I continued to tell her how the rest of the night went, I just couldn’t look her in the eyes until I was done speaking.

  When I glanced up, the look of horror on Kayla’s face confirmed that my anger was justified. While I knew in my heart what Brad had done was not okay, knowing my best friend was just as upset by it comforted me a bit.

  Kayla grabbed my hand, and squeezed it briefly. “Simone, you can’t stay with him if he is going to act like that.” She paused until I numbly nodded in agreement. “You don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

  I knew she was right, and I had thought the same thing all morning. But things weren’t so simple. First off, I wasn’t sure I was ready to break up Stella’s family. When I found out I was pregnant with Stella, I’d promised her and myself that I would give her the family I never had, making sure she felt that she had a stable family life. My in-laws were wonderful people and I knew they’d be there for her, but that wasn’t the same as Stella having her own immediate family. Second, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I had no family and my only friend still lived at home. My income from waitressing wasn’t enough to pay for my own place, even with any child support I would be entitled to. Third, while Brad’s parents adored Stella, I was just the woman who had gotten pregnant by their son. What if they decided they didn’t want anything to do with me if Brad and I divorced? I didn’t want to force them to take sides, mostly because I was afraid they would automatically take the side of their son and I would lose them as well. I’d seen that happen while growing up. It’s why I kept defending Brad even when I knew it was useless.