by Remi Wild
We haven’t returned as a couple to see Linda because things have been good—we haven’t felt like we needed it. This visit is less stressful, I’m able to take in my surroundings. Sniffing the lavender, I close my eyes and let the vibes mellow me.
“I’m so happy you decided to come in alone. It’s wonderful that you are trying to work on you.” Linda smiles, she’s chilled and lounging back in her chair.
“I’m trying, but I can’t seem to erase what they did from my mind.”
Taken aback, Linda shakes her head slightly. “Rebecca, that’s…a lot to ask of yourself. You probably will never forget what happened, but you can make a place for it and leave it behind you…”
“The thing is, Fiona isn’t giving up on him—at least not yet. She’s determined to drive me over the edge.” Linda cocks an eyebrow, waiting for more. “She approached me in the bathroom at Eric’s office, told me he wanted it, that he called her…name.” I choke on the last word as tears pour from my eyes. My throat closes, and I can’t say another word, just saying that is a dagger to the heart.
Linda passes me a box of tissue and leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, eyeing me with concern. She watches me, sympathy painting her features, but she remains quiet until I compose myself. It takes a few minutes.
“I’ve been trying so hard, we both have, and other than the fact that she’s hovering like a cobra ready to strike, everything is perfect. Ok, so neither of us is willing to fully trust the other…”
“The break in trust has to repair naturally. You and Eric are committed to each other, there is a chemistry between the two of you, that I must admit, I don’t see too often. The mere fact that you are willing to see past his affair—your marriage has a decent chance.”
“What do I do about Fiona?”
Linda laughs but it’s more of a scoff. “I can’t help you with that. At the moment, she is a part of the picture, but in the background, it’s your choice whether she stays there or not…”
“What? What the hell am I supposed to do with that? They work in the same office…”
“Faith.”
“Pfft. Give me something more than that, Linda. I’m barely hanging on here.”
“Faith is what will hold your marriage together. Believing in each other, trusting each other. You have to trust that you can work through this, you have to trust Eric, and having faith in his love and commitment to your marriage is the first step.”
“We have everything else…I’m terrified to let go, to fully trust him.”
“You will. Just give yourself time. You both are still healing…”
Looking down at my hands, I say the words that terrify me. “What if we can’t heal, if I can’t…”
“You will. You already are…it’s ok to ask the big questions, but don’t let them weigh you down. If you truly want a future with Eric, you must be willing to look forward and never look back. That’s the key—forcing it to be a part of your past.”
I left Linda’s office, went home to grab Chia, and we have been walking for hours in one big circle of our neighborhood. I can’t stop thinking, can’t stop worrying, praying for strength. I want to move forward, but I am terrified beyond anything I ever imagined.
He’s at work, right now, and she’s in her office around the corner from his, plotting her next move.
The thought makes my stomach ache.
Her in her six-inch, fuck-me pumps, sashaying her long-legged awesomeness past him, every chance she gets—just waving the steak in front of his face—waiting for her next moment to completely fuck with our marriage.
Her face is all I see.
Her long chocolate curls, flowing down her naked back as she fucks my husband.
The look on his face when I caught them, the look on hers—victory.
Yes.
It was a victorious grin.
Our marriage and her pursuit of Eric is a game, it’s not love.
It’s a game that she is determined to win. She’ll be at the bar-b-que this weekend. She wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Fury burns my cheeks, but willful determination prevents more tears.
I can’t let her win.
Even if I’m on the ledge, unsure, I can’t let her win.
I have to show solidarity.
I have to fight for my man, for our marriage, our love.
Chapter Twenty-One
The caterers bailed at the last minute, so Melanie and I have been running around town grabbing supplies and preparing food for the fifty plus guests that now occupy our backyard. I’ve barely had a second to spend with Eric or any of our family and friends.
Our friends are awesome, stepping up to help. Leo has been grilling while Melanie serves wine to the guests.
The doorbell rings, and I race to whip the door open to come face to face with Fiona, dressed to kill in a slinky white sundress as she hangs on the arm or Ethan Boyle, another of the many lawyers at the firm.
Why can’t one thing go right?
I smile, huge, it’s fake as hell, but at this point, I don’t care.
I’m over the moon that she brought a date.
“Please, everyone is out back…” I wave them in.
Fiona leads Ethan towards the patio doors. “I know the way,” she coos as I clench my jaw.
Bitch.
This is no surprise. I can do this.
Standing where I can watch, I see her and Ethan approach Eric. They are laughing like they’re old friends. Fiona hands him a bottle of wine, and he leans in to offer her a hug of thanks.
A hug.
A fucking hug!
What the actual fuck!
Seething, I glare daggers their way as I grab the cheese tray from the counter and saunter outside. Eric straightens when he sees me, like he knows he shit the bed.
It takes everything in me not to toss the tray of cheese at them and completely lose my cool.
“Easy, tiger,” Leo says from behind me. “He’s just being polite.”
Turning my head, I growl, “Fuck polite.” Then I spin, drop the tray of cheese on the table, and rage back into the house.
My heart pounds mercilessly in my chest as my body leans against the kitchen island for support. I might actually faint—black fuzzy dots blur my vision—I shake my head, trying to right myself.
The stress of all this is really messing with me. Closing my eyes, I yoga breathe until my heart starts to slow and I can almost think again.
“Great party, Rebecca.” Fiona says, she’s in my kitchen.
My eyes pop open and I sneer, but then turn to face her with a smile. “How nice of you to show up.” My fingernails dig into my clenched palms, to the point of pain, as I try to remain calm. She sees right through me.
“Oh, honey, I wouldn’t miss it. You have such a lovely home…I particularly liked the bedroom.”
My eyes almost roll into the back of my head, but instead I turn back to the salads and continue with the prep, ignoring her. “Please feel free to rejoin the party.”
She’s silent—I swear I can feel her eyes boring a hole into my head. I try not to crack under the intensity of her clear hatred of me that clogs the air around us.
“Yes, well, I’ll keep Eric company for you.” She spins and saunters out, as Leo walks in.
The room is spinning. She is here to take another swing at my husband, and he’s laughing and fine with it. Why didn’t he just tell her to go home?
A hug—pfft.
Maybe he wants her. Maybe I was wrong. He could’ve lied—He did want it.
Leo rushes forward and takes me by the arms, trying to catch my gaze, but I’m gone, lost in thought, drowning with rage. And then I hear Eric call my name.
Something snaps, something…I can’t explain. Shaking Leo’s hands off my arms, I throw my arms around Leo’s neck and crash my lips to his. For a second he kisses me back, but then he’s pushing me off, angrily wiping his mouth.
Eric stands, gaping at us, broken, and Mel
anie is behind him, her jaw hanging open as her eyes bug out of her head.
Straightening, I untie the apron and throw it on the island, as I make full eye contact with Eric. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought it was you!” With that I spin and race from the house.
I’ve made it about half a block when Leo grabs my arms spinning me, furious. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What? You didn’t want it?”
“What? No! Becs…” He stands back, dropping his hands to his sides. “Jesus, Becs…You and I are ancient history, I’ve…”
“Whatever. I made my point.” Fury has a way of making everything seem reasonable even though as I say the words my body twitches with self-hate.
“You’ve lost your bloody mind.” He half-laughs but there is hurt on his face.
It’s sobering.
What did I just do?
Oh shit.
“Leo…”
He raises a hand to stop me, spins and walks away as Eric approaches.
Oh my god.
He’s going to be furious. “Eric…”
He pulls me into his arms, stroking my back as I lose it, sobbing like a deranged fool. The force of his arms around me is unrelenting. After what I just did, he’s still here.
“This has to stop, Becky,” he says once I’ve started to compose myself. I know he’s right, but Fiona’s presence is torture, the worst kind.
“I lost it…I’m sorry.”
“We have a house full of guests…can you come back? I’ll tell Fiona to leave.”
My neck snaps up, and I glare at him. “You should have told her to leave when she passed you the wine, but no, you hugged her, smiling like nothing ever happened.” I shirk his arms and step back.
“I was being polite…” His tone is beaten, conflicted.
My chest constricts. I can’t even find the words. I just stare at him, blown away. That he even said that, that he hugged her, that he fucked her in the first place.
The strength I thought I had, the will to continue to fight for our marriage, it’s gone, vanished. This is agony. I can’t take any more.
I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.
I can’t.
I won’t.
Turning I walk towards the house. “We have a party to host,” I say over my shoulder.
I’m maybe ten feet away when he grabs my wrist, spinning me. “No. No! Becky, I love you. What will it take for you to realize that?”
I can’t look at him. Tears break through my rage, washing it away. The rational me comes back and I nod.
“I’m sorry…this is so hard. One minute, I think I’m past it, and all is great and the next…I’m a mess. I don’t know when…”
“Never mind when…we will get through it,” he says, determined. He pulls me into his arms and my body mellows as I close my eyes, sinking into his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You have nothing to apologize to me for…Leo…”
“Leo! Crap,” I hiss into his shirt. Pulling back, I look into his eyes, willing him to believe my next words. “That was shitty of me. I only did it to...”
“Piss me off?” He nods, frowning and then leans in to kiss my forehead.
“If it’s any consolation, he didn’t want it…” Stepping back, I bury my face in my palms. “Oh, god, what the hell am I doing? I have to go find Leo. I need to apologize.” Grabbing Eric’s hand, I pull him towards the house, determined to make amends.
We search but can’t find Leo or Melanie. After making a round through the backyard, we retreat to the kitchen.
“Leo and Melanie left,” my father-in-law, Max, states as he enters the kitchen. “Glad to see you two lovebirds are working things out.”
“Leo and Melanie left?” Why would Mel leave at a time like this? I could really use my bestie right about now.
Max reaches over and grabs the plate of pickles. “I’m going to take over the grill. You two, go mingle.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Eric takes my hand, and we stroll back out to the party.
As much as I wanted this day to be amazing, my heart isn’t in it. What I did to Leo is haunting me, and Melanie left which means she’s probably pissed as well.
Everything I do just makes things that much worse. It’s like I have no idea what I’m doing from one moment to the next. Eric guides me to the bar and pours me a glass of water, hands it too me, and then waits for me to take a sip.
All the crying and stress has completely drained me—I’m dehydrated. I guzzle the glass and then set it on the bar as I lock eyes with Eric. He’s grinning, I can’t believe he thinks any of this is funny. Ok, it is a little.
“We need to ask Fiona to leave.” We scan the yard looking for her, but neither of us see her or Ethan. “Looks like they already left.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” I breathe as my whole body relaxes.
We spend the rest of the afternoon with our guests. And by seven in the evening the guests have cleared out and our in-laws, after helping with cleanup, have vacated.
It’s just the two of us.
Finally.
Eric grabs a bottle of champagne and two glasses and nods for me to follow him back out to the patio. He pours our glasses and raises to toast.
Smiling, I raise my glass higher. “To new beginnings.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Work has been nuts these past few days. I haven’t had surgery with Leo, so it’s been difficult finding time to talk to him. I owe him an apology, face to face, and he is in my line of site, surrounded by a swarm of nurses, as usual. I approach and tap him on the shoulder. He straightens, like he knows it’s me, and then excuses himself from the nurses as he turns to acknowledge my presence.
He doesn’t say anything, just glares at me.
So, clearly, he’s still pissed. I’ve never seen Leo angry, at least not at me.
Looking him in the eye, I frown. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything, just swallows, but there is a pissed off twitch in his jaw.
“Look, I don’t blame you for being mad at me—I shouldn’t have done it—shouldn’t have put your reconciliation with Eric in jeopardy. It was shitty…friends don’t do that to each other. So, I just wanted you to know that Eric isn’t mad at you, he knows it was me…”
A slow grin curves his mouth. “I wasn’t mad, just deeply concerned…mostly, I can’t believe you went there.”
A huff of air escapes as I scoff, disgusted with my behavior. “Me either. I’m sorry I ruined the bar-b-que for you and Mel, especially after the two of you went out of your way to bail me out after the caterer quit. It was shitty, but as Mel says, I am a shitty friend—I have to work on that.”
“You’re not a shitty friend, Becs. You’re just having a hard time.”
“Thanks. Listen, would you like to come for dinner Friday night? It will just be us and Mel, assuming she ever speaks to me again. She hasn’t returned any of my texts or calls in days.”
Leo shifts his stance, looking slightly uncomfortable, but it is fleeting before he smiles that sexy, smile. “She has today off…maybe you could go visit her?”
Nodding, I grin. “Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Leo.”
After work, I drive to Melanie’s house. Her car is in the drive, so I might get lucky. She answers the door, looking pissed off but it’s nothing compared to how pale and not well she looks.
Pushing my way into the house, I put a hand to her clammy forehead and place a protective arm around her, guiding her to the couch.
“Have you got the flu? You look awful.” I say as we sit down. “Can I get you something?”
“It’s just a stomach thing…really, I’m ok.” She won’t even look at me.
I am such an asshole.
“Mel, I’m so sorry! I know I’ve been a basket case, and I’m sorry that I almost ruined Eric’s and Leo’s reconciliation after you tried so hard to get them back together.”
“That’s…” She shakes her
head. “Not why I was pissed…”
Taken aback, I look at her, confused. “Then…” My eyes search the air for another reason and then it hits me, but I’m not sure, so I tread lightly. “Are you upset that I kissed Leo…because…”
She jumps up, pissed. “You don’t have a clue, Becky. You can’t see past anything but you and Eric…”
I heard her, but can’t take my eyes off the huge blood stain on the sofa where she was just sitting. My eyes shoot to her and notice her shorts are soaked with it—blood is dripping on to the floor—she’s hemorrhaging. As I realize this, Mel begins to fall, but I am there to catch her, grabbing my cell to dial 911 as she faints.
“I’m not leaving you,” I coo, stroking her forehead as she flits in and out of consciousness on the way to the hospital.
The paramedics wheel her in with me in tow, crying, scared. I know the drill, I’m not family, so they won’t tell me shit. I wait, pacing, I can’t sit still to save my soul. Every thought, every conversation, every little detail flashes through my mind.
Mel never said anything, never even hinted at being pregnant.
Not a lot causes hemorrhaging like that—miscarriage is the obvious reason.
Crying harder, I curl up in a waiting room chair. I’ve been so wrapped up in the Fiona thing that I missed something huge—my best friend’s pregnancy.
Mel’s right. I am a shit friend, I’ve been blind, totally self-absorbed. I’ll make it up to her somehow, and I will not leave her. I text Eric, telling him that I’m going in to an emergency surgery that will go late. I don’t out Mel—it isn’t my secret to tell.
Hours pass as I sit, thinking about all the good times Mel and I have had. I pray to God, over and over, asking him to spare her. What would I do without her? How can I ever repay her for being there for me?
“You can go in, now,” a nurse says.
My head snaps up, I leap from the chair and follow, rushing into Mel’s room and to her side. Grabbing her hand, I kiss her palm, tears spilling from my eyes as hers open and connect with mine.