by Amanda Aksel
No, I’m definitely not okay. “Yeah, the seasickness is getting to me. I think I just need to get to sleep.”
His brow wrinkles with a concerned expression. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look really sick?” He steps closer, and I just barely dodge his touch.
“Yeah, I got sick a couple of times.” And made out with my ex-husband. “I just need a shower and a good night of sleep.”
“You want me to shower with you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “You know we can’t both fit in those tiny showers.”
“Sure we can. We just have to get really close.” He rubs my arm and it takes everything I have not to recoil. Not because I don’t want him to touch me. But because I’m not sure if I deserve such a loving touch after what I just got myself into. He’s going to be heartbroken when I tell him, which I will. Just not yet.
“I’ll be quick,” I say, mustering a smile.
I lock myself in the bathroom and start the shower, ripping off my clothes as fast as I can. I immerse myself in the cascading water, imagining that it’s rinsing away my bad decision. My mind flashes back to Jake, the way his tongue twirled with mine in rhythm, a choreography our mouths haven’t forgotten. I bite my lower lip where his kiss still lingers.
No, Natalie!
I shake my head and rub my face hard. I have to forget him. Forget that kiss. Forget all his kisses. Only how can I forget what he said? That he still loves me. And after what happened, maybe he’s right. Somewhere, buried beneath all the heartbreak, I still love him too.
But that’s not why we broke up. I left because I couldn’t trust him to do the right thing by me anymore, and putting me in a position the way he did tonight is proof that that hasn’t changed. Kyle would never do what he’s done. He’s not selfish or reckless. He’s good, and I’m . . . a terrible wife.
I towel off and clear away my running makeup from around my eyes. When I push the door open, steam wafts into the room.
Kyle is waiting on the bed. “Feel better?”
No. “Yeah.”
“I got you some peppermint tea and saltines.” He motions to the items on the counter.
“Thank you. That was really nice,” I say, trying to hold it together. Yep, Kyle’s the kind of guy to bring you saltines when you’re sick, and Jake is the guy who kisses you like it’s the freaking Titanic while your husband’s on board.
“Emily said peppermint tea is good for settling stomachs,” he says.
“Emily?”
“Yeah, I ran into her in the café just now.”
I tuck my towel tighter around my body. With all the Jake-kissing drama, I completely forgot about Kyle’s ex. “Oh, you saw Jake and Emily?”
I think I’m gonna be sick again.
“No, he wasn’t with her.”
Yeah, he’s not with her because apparently he’s still in love with me. Hmm, I wonder if Emily’s still in love with Kyle.
I shake the thought away and slip into a pair of fresh clothes. The peppermint tea that Emily so kindly recommended is getting cold, and I force myself to drink it. Every sip tastes guiltier than the last.
“Why don’t you lie down? I’ll give you a massage,” he says.
“No, that’s okay.”
He sits next to me. “C’mon, you deserve it.” Trust me, I don’t. “It’s been a pretty rough day for you, seeing Jake on the boat, falling on your ass.” Strange how falling on my ass in public is the least of my worries today.
I feel the words bubble up. I kissed Jake. When I open my mouth, nothing comes out. Why is it so hard to say? Maybe because I’m not sure he’ll ever look at me this way again. “Okay,” I say and set my cup on the tea-size end table.
Kyle’s soothing hands caress my back. “Honey, relax. You’re so tense.”
I close my eyes and go to another place in my mind—a happier place. My muscles slowly unwind, and I sink more into the mattress as he kneads skin. In other words, I will myself to fake it until I fall asleep.
***
The sound of a low conversation nudges me awake. It’s still dark. The ship’s sailing smoothly. A dim light shades the room in indigo and warm yellow.
“She’s awake,” Kyle says and looks behind me wiping sleep out of my eyes.
Kyle stands near the bed next to Jake. They’re serious expressions land hard on me. Oh no. How did Jake find our room?
“What’s going on?” I ask, lifting myself out of the sheets.
“Jake told me everything,” Kyle says in an eerily calm way.
I flip the covers off of me and hop to my feet, now facing both my husband and my ex-husband in this small stateroom. Nowhere to hide. “Kyle, it didn’t—”
“It’s okay,” Jake says, stepping closer. “We talked about it.”
“Talked about what?”
Kyle takes my hand, and my heart races. Is this a joke? “We love you, and we know you love both of us. There’s no reason we can’t all have what we want.” He shares a look with Jake, then pulls me in, kissing me like everything is okay. Relief spills over me, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
A pair of lips caress the top of my shoulders and up the nape of my neck. I break away from Kyle and glance back. Jake’s eyes meet mine as he teases my skin with the edge of his teeth. I turn back to my husband who seems unfazed by Jake’s liberties. Kyle slides his hand up my thigh and pulls my nightgown over my head, kissing me again. My ex-husband’s tongue slides down my back, past my hips as he takes two handfuls of my backside, nibbling at my skin. Kyle cups my breast while Jake slides his finger beneath my lace panties, toying with me.
Oh my god, is this really happening?
Kyle flashes a confident smirk, then lays me on the bed. My two husbands stand over me, a lusty craving filling their eyes. Jake loses his jeans and white tee before climbing on the bed, lowering over me. His lips meet mine, and it’s even better than on the deck. I feel Kyle kiss along my ankle, running his hands up my leg.
“Mmm,” I moan, arching my back. Who knew sex with an ex and your husband could be this, this . . . incredible. Kyle’s tongue traces up my inner thigh while Jake takes my hard, aching nipple into his mouth. I intertwine my hands with Jake’s newly short hair, tugging it as if begging for more.
Yes, I want more, more, more! With their hands on my body, it’s as if every inch of me is being attended to. Kyle pulls back, and Jake mounts himself between my legs ready to drop his anchor. I spread my knees, opening for him. He dives in, and I thrust my hips forward, wanting all of it.
“Oh, yes,” I let out, rolling my head back. “Oh god, yes!”
“Oh, Natalie,” Kyle whispers in my ear before kissing my neck. “Natalie.” Can this get any better?
“Natalie,” Kyle says again. “Natalie, wake up.”
I open my eyes to a sun lit stateroom. “Huh?”
“It’s okay, you were having a nightmare.” He wipes a tissue over my forehead.
That was definitely not a nightmare. “I was dreaming?”
“Yeah, very loudly.”
Heat prickles at my cheeks and between my thighs. “What did I say?”
“Nothing. You were just moaning and squirming around. What were you dreaming about?”
I sit up, pull the covers up to my chest, and look him in the eye. My little ménage à trois may have been a fantasy, but the kiss last night with Jake was very, very real. “I . . . I . . .”
N o, I can’t do that. I may be married to a schmuck, but he’s still my schmuck.
I turn my head and step back. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I can’t.”
“I know. You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lowers his eyes.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I get it. But, you know.”
He nods as the cab pulls up to the curb. “Jake?”
“Exactly.”
“No, I mean, Jake’s here.” He points to the car.
I whip my head toward the parked taxi. My husband stumbles out of it dragging along a
small carry-on. This might explain why he never answered his phone.
Is it really him?
“Oh my god, Quinn, I’m so happy to see you.” Jake plows into me with a homecoming embrace that I’m totally not prepared for. I shoot Kyle a look over Jake’s shoulder.
I return his hug, hands trembling. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I live here, baby, remember?” His breath is coated with shots of Jack Daniels, and his speech is slightly slurred. “I came home to see you.” Then he looks back at Kyle. “Hey, man. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I didn’t expect to see you either.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “Sorry to crash your party.”
“There’s no party, Jake,” I say, but he doesn’t seem to acknowledge my words.
Jake narrows his eyes at Kyle. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to.”
Kyle squares his shoulders. “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re tryin’ to sleep with my wife!” Jake shoves his supposed best friend. My heart thumps hard against my chest. I’ve never seen Jake get like this before.
Kyle quickly retaliates, pushing Jake without hesitation. “You need to back off, man.”
“No, you need to back off.” Jake comes at Kyle, but this time Kyle grabs him around the shoulders and into a headlock that Jake quickly weasels his way out of.
“Stop it!” I yell, my hands shaking. The sound of Lily’s ferocious barks echo from inside the glass storm door.
With beet-red faces, Kyle wrestles Jake to the ground and they barrel over one of the grocery bags, scuffing up their elbows on the concrete.
I don’t know what to do. Call for help? Call the police? Run inside and hide until it’s over? I want to grab them by the ears and tell them that they should be ashamed of themselves, but I know I can’t take them both on. “Stop fighting! You’re gonna hurt yourselves!”
Good one, Natalie. I’m sure they’re super concerned about their safety right now.
The scuffle ensues on my driveway with no end in sight. Not even as my nosey neighbor across the street comes out to see what all the fuss is about. The guys grunt and growl like it’s a WWF match. Dammit! They’re acting like total assholes.
Kyle’s cab pulls up to the curb about a street fight too late. The driver, who’s built more like Lou Ferrigno than someone who sits behind a wheel all day races around the front of his car toward the scene.
“Hey, you knuckleheads!” he calls in a Jersey accent. The guys don’t seem to notice he’s there until he grabs onto Jake’s shoulders and, in one fell swoop, lifts him to his feet. Kyle stumbles upright. Both of them breathing fire with hate in their eyes. “Geez, what are you guys doin’ fightin’ in front of the lady like that?”
Kyle wipes the sweat from his brow, his previously starched shirt disheveled. Jake shrugs off the cab driver and steps back.
“One of you guys Kyle?” the hero asks.
“Yeah,” Kyle says glancing my way.
“Get in the cab.” The driver looks my way. “You okay, ma’am.”
I nod. “Yeah, he’s my husband.”
Kyle sends me one last look before complying with the driver. He better give that guy a big tip.
“Get yourself cleaned up, man. And show your wife some respect.”
Jake nods as he continues to catch his breath.
The cab driver walks off to his car, mumbling something, and slams the door with a loud bang before speeding off.
Jake walks up to me, a hairline scratch across his cheek. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I didn’t know what to think when I saw you two standing there like that.”
I say nothing, instead, turn on my heel and stomp back into the house.
“Wait!” he calls, following me inside. “I’m sorry.”
“What exactly are you sorry about, Jake?” I turn back.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Lily’s jumping all over him, wagging her tail so fast that her behind is wiggling uncontrollably, and whining like a puppy. She hasn’t seen him in so long. It’s heartbreaking really. I should be as happy to see him too.
I ball my fist. “Sorry I had to see that, not that you showed up drunk and assaulted your best friend.”
“He’s not my friend anymore.”
“Yes, he is! He is the only reason I’ve survived the last few months, assuring me that you’re good, that you’re doing this for us, being here for me because you choose not to.”
“Yeah, it sounds like you two have gotten pretty friendly while I’ve been away.”
“Oh, get over yourself! There’s nothing going on between me and Kyle.” Which is technically true. And there wouldn’t be anything to worry about if he hadn’t left in the first place.
“Get over myself. I’ve been working my ass off for you!” He points a firm finger in my direction.
“For me? This has never been about me or us. That’s the problem. This whole thing is about you getting away after what happened. Some attempt to turn lemons in to freaking lemonade. Well guess what, Jake? We’re a hell of a lot worse off now.”
He lets out a long sigh and hangs his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You’re right. I let you down. But I’m here to repair things.”
“Repair what? Our marriage? Our broken hearts about the babies we’ve lost? What about the fact that I haven’t seen a penny of return for my investment, and now our credit cards are maxed out?”
Jake swallows hard, then pulls something from his pocket. A snickers bar. He sets it down on the entryway table between us. I really hope he doesn’t think a candy bar is going to repair anything between us right now. “You might need this.”
My stomach tightens, and now I’m almost positive there’s steam coming out of my ears. “No, what I need is for you to tell me what the hell’s going on with you.”
Jake rubs his face and lets out a frustrated grunt. “The project dried up just like everything else in that god forsaken desert.”
I cross my arms over my chest, searching his eyes for clarity. Did he say it dried up?
“There’s no money left. I had to pay the workers and send everyone home.”
“What?” I feel a wave of sudden unconsciousness coming on. “Are you telling me it’s all gone?” The words are heavy in my mouth with the weight of one hundred thousand dollars of my hard earned cash.
“Yes, but I have a plan to get it back. All of it.”
My jaw is clenched so tight that I might break it, if I don’t break his first. “You really are drunk, because there’s no way in hell I’m going along with any more of your so-called plans. You have cost me everything, Jake. Everything! And I am not going to let you destroy another damn thing, do you hear me?”
He steps forward. “Quinn, I know I—”
“Don’t Quinn me, okay? I don’t want to hear a single thing you have to say. I can’t even look at you right now.” I turn away and grab both his keys and mine. Just in case he has another brilliant plan to get behind the wheel. “Lily!” I call.
“What are you doing?”
I march for the door, my beloved lab on my heels. “We’re leaving. I can’t stay here with you tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just sober up and get yourself a lawyer.”
I push the door open and stamp my feet all the way to my car, locking the door the moment we’re inside. Lily paces the back seat, panting like she’s run a marathon.
“Quinn, don’t do this!” Jake’s words are muffled through the glass. I look into his eyes, the eyes I used to love, feeling nothing but disappointment and disdain. He ruined everything. And I hate him. I hate my husband.
EPISODE TWELVE
M y husband hints at a smile. “What is it?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” My dream wasn’t nothing. And you don’t have to be Freud to figure out what it means.
Easy interpretation?
I’m screwed.
&nbs
p; “Okay.” Kyle shrugs. “We have to leave for our excursion soon, so you might want to get dressed.”
“Yeah, I’ll just jump in the shower.” I step my feet onto the floor, and my stomach churns followed by a distinct sensation rushing up my esophagus.
Oh no. Not again.
I cover my mouth and rush to the toilet. No time to shut the door for privacy. I release whatever’s left in my stomach—nothing but bile from a bad, bad, very naughty dream. Is it possible that my body’s punishing me for what I’ve done? It certainly feels that way.
“You okay, honey,” Kyle asks, then soothes the top of my shoulders with his gentle hands.
“I must have the stomach flu or something.”
“C’mon.” He helps me to my feet. “Let’s get you down to the medical station.”
Kyle and I head over to the cruise ship doctor on one of the lower decks. I stay hunched down since seeing Jake right now would probably kill me. When we get to the medical facility, they’re already hosting a handful of passengers. More than I expected. I hope we’re not all here for the same thing. The last thing this cruise needs is a full-on flu outbreak. Then again, Jake’s on the boat, so the chances of a catastrophe are very high.
I get settled, and the doctor asks me a few routine questions. When I tell him about my symptoms, he squishes his brow and gets really quiet.
The doctor scans the medical form I completed. “Well, you don’t have a fever. Any chance you’re pregnant?”
“I seriously doubt that,” I say since I’m a champ at taking my pill.
Wait, did I take it last night?
Uh-oh, I don’t think so.
Okay, usually I’m a champ at taking my pill. One missed dose does not make a baby.
“Let’s go ahead and rule it out so we can get to the bottom of this, and you can enjoy the rest of your cruise.”
Sweat beads up along the back of my neck. I haven’t taken a pregnancy test since . . . well, since the last time I was pregnant. Kyle and I have never had a scare before. I wasn’t even thinking about pregnancy until he brought it up.
Ugh. I think I’m gonna be sick again.
After I give my sample, Kyle and I sit on one of the exam tables while we wait for the results.