The Reality of Wright and Wrong

by Leddy Harper

  “Would you say it’s different than ours?”

  “It’s night and day,” I said with a smile.

  “Were you as…” He hesitated for a moment and then pointed to the counter behind me. “…eager? Open? Sexually, I mean. You’re just so into it with me, and I guess I’m wondering if you’ve always been that way.”

  As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. His eyes held mine captive, and they begged for the truth. So, I dismissed my need to hide, choosing honesty instead. “I wouldn’t use those words.”

  “Then how would you have described it?”

  “Willing.”

  His lips split into an infectious grin, a rush of airy humor seeped out, and he dropped his head forward—his signature move when something funny struck him at a time he least expected it. “Well, let’s hope so, babe. But other than that, how would you portray it?”

  “Brogan…this is a really uncomfortable conversation to have. Can you at least tell me where this is coming from? Maybe then I can understand what info you’re actually looking for rather than detailing my sex life with my ex when you’re asking for something else.”

  “Fair enough.” He ran his hand over his hair as if smoothing errant strands. “He might’ve made a comment or two about how you are in bed, and the person he described didn’t sound anything like the one I sleep with every night.”

  My stomach twisted to the point I had to push my plate away.

  “He wasn’t saying anything…negative, per se. It was more or less his way of trying to pop my bubble or make me doubt what we have. It didn’t work, so don’t let it bother you. Like I said, it made me wonder if he was lying, or if you’re simply a different person with me—and if so, why.”

  While I understood his concern, that didn’t make it easier to explain.

  “The person he described sounded insecure, which isn’t a word I would use for you. Without saying it, he implied you were a little prudish—or maybe that was just how I interpreted it. But again, that’s the complete opposite of who I know you to be.”

  “I told you that how we are together versus how I was with him is night and day. And I meant it. There’s a comfort level with you that I never felt with him. He never made me uncomfortable or anything. I guess the best way I can think of to describe it is that I felt like I was having sex with a childhood friend.” This couldn’t have been more awkward.

  That was a lie…because a second later, it did, in fact, become more awkward.

  “Why would you agree to marry him, then? If that’s how you felt?”

  “I didn’t have anything to compare it to. In my head, that was the way it was supposed to feel. I’ve always heard my parents talk about how they were so lucky because they married their best friend. So to me, that was exactly what I was doing as well. I loved him—I knew that much. I enjoyed being around him and spending time with him. We had a lot of fun together. But I always knew that we lacked something in the intimacy department, and apparently, he felt it, too. He never said anything about it, so I thought I was overthinking it or something.”

  Brogan’s eyes softened, the color changing to a warm shade of green—the color of a mint leaf. “And it’s different with me.” It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t seeking clarification. It was as though he understood that statement on a personal level.

  “Exactly.” I reached across the table and intertwined my fingers with his. “When I’m with you, I don’t have other thoughts racing through my head. You keep me grounded to you. It was never like that with him.”

  He squeezed my hand in reassurance—except I couldn’t tell if it was to assure him or me. “It’s crazy how you can think you’re happy, truly believe it doesn’t get better than this, and then you meet that one person who proves you wrong in all the right ways.”

  Even though it shouldn’t have surprised me, it did. The way he seemed to just get me. See me. Feel me in ways no one else ever had. Rather than it terrifying me, it calmed me. Soothed me. It electrified and excited me.

  For the first time since we left Savannah, I felt eager for tomorrow.

  With Brogan by my side, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t face.

  20

  Brogan

  With filming about to start, I’d decided to take the last two days off to spend with Mercy. This turned out to be a good thing, considering we’d stayed up late talking about anything and everything. She’d told me about her past relationships, and in turn, I had shared with her all the ugly and wonderful times I’d been through.

  It was nice to actually know things about each other, rather than simply feel like we did. Aside from Jess, I’d never had anyone in my life I could open up to like that. Sure, I had Indi, and while I trusted her, she only knew what I’d allowed her to know. And with my life plastered on the internet and in the pages of trashy gossip magazines, it was a good feeling to be able to share my stories with someone without them already knowing.

  I’d stopped wondering where Mercy had come from.

  I no longer cared.

  All that mattered was that she was here. And she was mine.

  Shortly after getting out of bed, she’d received a call from the school, requesting a meeting with her. Since this was her first year teaching, the call didn’t come as a surprise. And as much as I would’ve wanted to spend the whole day with her, having her out of the house had given me time to do something nice for her.

  What I hadn’t expected was for everything to fall apart when she got home.

  When the door leading out to the garage opened and then closed, I pulled myself off the couch to meet her. I wanted to find out how her meeting went since she hadn’t called me when she left. Then I wanted to share the surprise with her. But as soon as she saw me, she tucked her chin and tried to make a beeline for the bedroom.

  I wasn’t about to let her hide from me, not after last night. Not after sharing ourselves with one another on a level I never imagined possible. So I moved to stand in front of her, blocking her hasty retreat, and then lifted her chin with my finger to see her face. “What the hell happened, babe?”

  Inky trails ran down Mercy’s cheeks, reminding me of the first night we’d met. Although this time, the slight wobble in her steps hadn’t come from alcohol. And the hurt in her eyes wasn’t heartache. It enraged me. Saddened me. Made me want to hold her and attack whoever had done this to her at the same time.

  “It’s nothing, Brogan.” The use of my full name didn’t bother me as much as the tears that filled her eyes, tarnishing the spools of gold that glistened with sorrow. “They decided they no longer need me.”

  “Who? The school? Why?” Nothing made sense, which might’ve had something to do with the influx of incomplete questions and thoughts that flooded my mind. This had come out of nowhere.

  She shrugged and glanced away. It had been a while since I’d last seen her need to search a room before responding. And the fact that she had to now gutted me. However, what pained me the most was how she couldn’t even look at me while she answered. “They, um…they don’t feel I’m a good fit for them anymore.”

  Refusing to let her continue to turn away from me, I cupped her face with both hands and forced her attention on me. “What changed, babe? How could they hire you, and then decide less than three weeks before you’re supposed to start that they don’t want you anymore?”

  Mercy didn’t need to say anything. Her eyes told me everything I needed to know…and then some. The fact that she couldn’t even utter the words held nearly as much weight on my chest as the reason for her losing her job before she even started.

  “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

  Her short, jerky nod might’ve answered my question, but it didn’t explain anything. Then again, I wasn’t sure I cared what excuses they’d given her. Thanks to the show that allowed me the life I lived, I was considered a public figure. And while I hadn’t actually seen a single episode, I wasn’t blind to the way I was portrayed. So it made sense if I too
k a step back and looked at it all—my life, the drama surrounding my name, the rumors and assumptions that never seemed to die, all connected to the woman they’d hired to teach young children.

  Except to me, she wasn’t just a woman they’d hired.

  She was Mercy. My wife.

  And I refused to let her go long enough to take a step back and look at anything other than the fact she was hurting. That was all that mattered to me. Their reasons be damned. Their feelings toward me or my job be damned.

  “I’ll fix this, babe. I promise. It’s not right what they did to you.”

  She placed her hand on my chest with enough pressure that her need to push me away was obvious. “No. Don’t do anything, Brogan. It’ll only make things worse. They don’t have anything against me or you right now, and if you go down there and start something, you’ll only be reaffirming their decision. Just drop it; let it go.”

  I put one foot behind the other and took a step back, my arms dropping to my sides as I stared at her tear-stained face. “Okay. You’re right. I won’t do anything about it. You don’t need that job anyway. Hell, I make enough money that you don’t even have to work if you don’t want to.”

  “That’s not what I want.” Her nose scrunched, and her forehead creased, right as the pain in her eyes swelled then rolled over her lower lids. Cascading down her cheeks. Falling from her quivering chin. “I didn’t go to school for nothing. I didn’t bust my ass to sit around the house or be taken care of by someone else.”

  “I’m not just someone else, Mercy. I’m your husband. It’s my duty to take care of you.”

  “It’s your duty to support me. To share your life with me—not your bank account. That makes me feel like you bought me, and I don’t enjoy that feeling. I want to contribute. I want to use the degree I spent four years to get. I didn’t choose teaching for the amazing hours or lack of stress. I chose it because it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  Part of me thought it’d be best if I simply stopped talking, knowing I’d only continue to put my foot in my mouth. But as long as she was crying, I wouldn’t stop trying to make it right for her. “Okay…there are other schools in the area. You may not get the same offer for the same position, but at least it’ll be a start. Right?”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” Defeat had taken over her voice until it was a hoarse whisper. “I don’t have an in-state teaching certificate, which takes time to get. The only reason I was able to get a job there was because it’s a private school, and they can basically do whatever they want.”

  “There have to be other private schools in the area.”

  “None that would take me.”

  I shoved my hands into my pockets and nodded while desperately forming new ideas in my head. “What if you got something part-time, just to hold you over until you can get the certificate or whatever it is you need to get hired at a school?”

  “I appreciate the effort, but really, I have too much on my mind right now to run through my options. But as soon as things settle, I promise, we’ll sit down and figure it out. I’m just in too much shock right now for that.” Her shoulders fell forward like a cartoon of someone giving up.

  And as much as I wanted to hold her here, wrap my arms around her and convince her that there was nothing to worry about, I couldn’t. If the time she’d spent in the spare room after moving in with me had taught me anything, it was that she was the type of person who needed a moment to come to things on her own. I had to trust she’d do the same with this.

  My only hope was that it wouldn’t take as long as it had taken for her to come back to me. If so, I’d deal with it. But since this wasn’t as difficult a situation, I had to hold out hope that it’d be a few hours at the most before she’d let me in again.

  “Maybe take a shower,” I suggested, trying to come up with something to offer that wouldn’t push her away. “Or I could run you a bath if that would be better.”

  Her smile was pitiful—granted, it showed she tried. “Thanks, but I think a shower might be best. I appreciate the thought, though.”

  All I could do was stand there and watch her escape into the bedroom. And for the first time since she’d crawled beneath my covers after the fundraiser, I got the feeling that she didn’t want me there.

  There wasn’t a feeling worse than not being wanted by the only person you wanted.

  When Mercy finally met me in the living room, the surprise I’d wanted to give her earlier was long forgotten. The only thing I’d been able to focus on was the information I’d received a few hours ago, shortly after she’d closed herself off behind our bedroom door.

  Indi had called to share her theory about who she believed had been responsible for this shitstorm. None of this would’ve happened had the media not exploded with news of my marital status, painting Mercy in an unflattering light. So after hearing Indi’s take on who the culprit was—which appeared to have been primarily based on facts rather than assumptions—the surprise I’d planned for Mercy had taken a back seat to the hatred that ran through my veins.

  Without making eye contact, Mercy sat on the couch and stared at her phone that she held in her lap. The fact that she wouldn’t look at me didn’t bode well, yet I couldn’t complain. Her avoidance kept her ignorant of the murderous rage I harbored toward the person who’d initiated this whole thing.

  Disregarding the pang in my chest, I turned to face her. “What’s going on?”

  “I just got off the phone with my parents.” Then she stopped talking, as if I’d be able to assume the rest.

  “What did they have to say?”

  “They think I should come home and regroup.”

  It took me a moment to gather the strength to ask, “And what did you tell them?”

  “That I’d think about it.”

  When I’d discovered Jessica’s indiscretions, it devastated me. At least, I assumed so at the time. But now, after hearing that there was a possibility of Mercy leaving, I realized what true devastation was. Like a bomb had exploded in my chest. Leaving nothing behind. Wreaking havoc on every cell in my body until my lungs were devoid of even an ounce of oxygen. Until my brain refused to tell my limbs what to do or send words to my tongue.

  She finally gave me her attention, and the amount of pain in her eyes could’ve suffocated me. She could drown me in the fear that flooded her face. And when she opened her mouth to speak, the quiver in her lips shook me to my core. “Losing my job wasn’t part of the plan, Brogan.”

  The fact that she had used my full name ever since coming home was enough to pull me off death’s doorstep. However, it hadn’t breathed life into me. Instead, it acted more like a ventilator—prolonging the inevitable. “Nothing we’ve done since the moment we met has been part of the plan. Coming home with me that night. Staying with me for the week. Getting married and moving in. None of it. Why is this any different?”

  “That first week was temporary.” Those words cut deep. “Everything after that seemed to work into the plan. I already had the job, already intended to move here. It didn’t interfere with the path I’d already paved. The job was that path, and now I feel like I’m wandering aimlessly without a purpose.”

  While I understood where she was coming from, it didn’t make it hurt any less to hear. “Why can’t I be your purpose? Why can’t we be your reason to stay? Change the path. Make your own. You’re not alone here, Mercy. You have me. Why can’t that be enough?”

  Her tears seemed to come from nowhere, drenching her cheeks with the agony that poured from her eyes. “It has nothing to do with you not being enough. That’s not it at all. If anything, I’m the one who feels insufficient.”

  “How? Why? I don’t understand, babe. Explain it to me.”

  She reached out and covered my hand with hers, which managed to pull me back from the ledge. “I don’t want to be the person those articles said I was. I refuse to live off your money. It’s not who I am.”

  The mere mention of those artic
les had my mind racing back to what I’d discovered over the last few hours. And it took everything I had in me to rein in the anger. This was about Mercy, her job, and where we’d go from here. I couldn’t risk her catching something in my expression and sidetracking our conversation.

  I took a deep breath to control my emotions before continuing. “That’s just it, though. I’m not asking you to live off me forever. I also have no issue with it if that’s what you decide to do. If you want to work, I’m not stopping you. If you want to take some time to go after your teaching certificate, I’ll support you one hundred percent. But I guess I don’t understand the importance of what you bring to the table, just as long as you’re there at that table next to me.”

  “Why can’t you understand that?”

  “Because what you offer is invaluable. What you give me can’t be matched with a salary or material things. It’s you, Mercy. Don’t you see? All I care about is you. Nothing else. I’d be perfectly happy living in a cardboard box as long as you were with me.”

  Mercy wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, her eyes once again scouring the room rather than settling on mine. “Being equal contributors isn’t my concern. I’ll never make what you make. And I’m okay with that. All I want is to know I’m a partner here…not a wife with her husband’s credit card.”

  I slid off the cushion and knelt in front of her, taking her hands until she dropped her attention to my face. “Babe…I get that having a job is important to you. I understand your desire to use your degree and do what you love. I’m all about that. But please, don’t bail on me simply because the first school that hired you changed their mind. Can’t you just allow me to support you while you figure out how to have what you want? How can you possibly find a job around here if you’re in Ohio?”

  “I didn’t say I was going home.” Regardless of the confusion that creased her brow, that was the first glimpse of hope she’d given me since returning from her meeting at the school. “My parents suggested it, and I told them I’d think about it to get them off my back.”