The Things Everson Lost

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The Things Everson Lost Page 11

by Tina Martin


  “I didn’t, June.”

  “But you wanted to?”

  He paused, collecting his thoughts. “No.”

  “You mean to tell me this woman invited you back to her room and—”

  “Okay!” he said, exasperated. “It all caught me off guard. She invited me back to her room to show me a picture of her son. One thing led to another, and we kissed.”

  “Kissed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kissed?” June asked again, frowning. “Five minutes ago, you told me you only kissed her on the cheek.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m trying to remember everything that happened. Trying to be honest with you, June.”

  “Then be honest, Everson. Did you sleep with her?”

  “No.”

  “Did you want to sleep with her?”

  “I thought I did, but no. We kissed. On the bed. Before I knew what was going on, I was on top of her, kissing her and when I realized what I was doing, I stopped immediately. I didn’t sleep with her, June. I swear.”

  Tears rolled out of June’s eyes. She didn’t try to wipe them away or disguise her hurt.

  Still, Everson hadn’t told her the worst of it. Explaining further, he said, “I’m sorry, June. I was caught up in the moment. She’d just showed me a picture of my son and I—”

  “What’d you say?” June interrupted to ask, her body going numb. Her legs almost slipped out from under her, prompting her to reach for the corner of the island for support. “Did you say your son?”

  He didn’t mean to tell her this way, but he’d already let it slip. “Yes. She told me I had a son. We had a son. She was my girlfriend in high school. She moved away during our senior year and didn’t tell me she was pregnant at the time.”

  “My God,” June said, her voice shattered to pieces.

  “June—”

  “How do you know he’s your son? Have you—?” Her voice left. She heaved and slumped over on the island. When she was able to talk again, she asked, “Have you taken a test?”

  “No. I’m going to, but I don’t need to. He looks like me. His name is—”

  “I don’t care what his name is!” June said before finally steadying herself enough to leave the kitchen and struggle through dizzy spells to get upstairs, using the railing for support.

  Everson stood up and followed after her, entering the bedroom just as she was dragging a suitcase out of the closet.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? Take a wild, freakin’ guess, Everson!” Vision blurred by tears, she returned to the closet, grabbing an armful of clothes, not paying attention to what she snatched. She just wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible.

  “June, wait,” Everson said, touching her arm.

  His touch incensed her. “Get yo’ hands off of me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

  “Just put the clothes down, June.”

  She tried to continue on to the bed but he snatched the clothes out of her hand, taking them back inside of the closet.

  “Give me my clothes.”

  “No.”

  “Fine! I’ll leave with the clothes on my back…anything to get away from you. I can’t stand the sight of you!”

  “No,” Everson said, grabbing her arm.

  She yanked it away, yelling, “Get off of me! I told you not to touch me!”

  “All right,” he said, palms up. “I’ll leave. I’m the guilty one. I’ll get my stuff and go.”

  He went to the closet, took a few pieces of clothing and stuffed them into a duffle bag. He glanced at her before exiting the bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, bent over, her hands hiding her face. Judging by the way her body trembled, he knew she was crying. She wasn’t audible, but she was crying. Sometimes, those were the worst cries. The silent ones.

  Without saying anything else that could possibly make the situation worse than it already was, he walked away, slowly descended the stairs and exited through the garage, sitting in his car now. Just sitting there. Thinking about the heartache he’d caused. Thinking about where to go from here.

  He didn’t want to go to Bryson’s house to hear I told you so. Even if Bryson didn’t say it outright—it would be written all over his face, so Bryson’s house was out. He definitely wasn’t going to Barringer’s place. Barringer and Calista had caught him in the act—that was embarrassing enough in itself.

  Candice, maybe?

  He shook his head. While he loved his sister, she would talk him into a coma. Besides, he wasn’t sure how much information she’d been privy to and he couldn’t find it in himself to relay this story again.

  Staying with his parents was out of the question for obvious reasons, same as Rexford.

  That left three options: Garrison, Colton or a hotel.

  Well, two options, striking out Colton. Colton was always on the cranky side for no good reason and something like this would probably make him go to the left, especially after smelling paint fumes all day.

  So, Garrison or a hotel?

  He rubbed a hand across his low-cut mustache. If he stayed with Garrison, maybe he could talk some things out with him. But Garrison already had his hands full with Junior and…

  “Guess I’ll be staying at a hotel,” he said evenly, pressing the pre-programmed button on the ceiling of his car to open the garage door. Then he backed out, heading downtown to one of the city’s five-star hotels.

  * * *

  It felt like the life had left her body. Feeling weak, she slid right off the bed as if the action was involuntary. In a way it was. She wasn’t aware she’d fallen beside the bed. She was too busy sobbing – her heart jammed full with pain, feeling the sharpness of betrayal as it nearly killed her with pain. She hunched over, held herself, hoping to relieve the sour feeling that had settled in her stomach. It didn’t help. She only sobbed more while tears pooled on the shiny hardwood floor. She was too hurt to think straight – to have the clarity to determine what this meant for her marriage. All she wanted to do was feel bad, cry and get over the initial shock of being lied to yet again.

  She’d been cheated on before, but this time was different. Everson wasn’t just some boyfriend who was afraid of commitment. He was her husband – thus he’d committed. With a ring. With promises of love and devotion. He said vows before God and yet still found himself on top of another woman. How could he?

  June placed a hand over her weary heart. More tears came. Puddled. And her nose began to run. She didn’t feel uncontrolled rage or a building desire for revenge. She had no thoughts of going out to find a man to even the score and give Everson a dose of his own medicine. She was genuinely hurt, trying her best to cope with the blow to her heart of something she didn’t see coming – her husband’s infidelity.

  Chapter 16

  After waking up on the floor, still a mess – only sleeping for maybe an hour or two, on and off – June squinted her puffy eyes as the sun shone brightly in her room. How did the morning come so quickly?

  With the sun beaming in all its splendor, she still felt sad with no motivation to move. She just wanted to be left alone to grieve the end of a marriage with the man she thought she’d love forever. But she couldn’t do that properly. Why? Because she needed to know why. Why would Everson do this to her?

  Dragging herself up off the floor – bones stiff, back hurting, the spot where her arm rested on the floor aching – she tugged at the bed covers to assist her in getting up. She slipped, relying too much on the covers instead of using the stability of the bed. Trying again, she got a good grip on a bed post, pulling herself up to stand.

  Her legs were so stiff and partially numb, she felt like a baby just learning how to walk, becoming a toddler. Since she had cried like a baby last night, she may as well walk like one, too. And so she toddlered her way to the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror, disgusted with what she saw – a cheated-on wife. One of those women. The ones whose husbands went seeking something – that
thing, whatever that thing was – in another woman since they couldn’t find it at home. She was one of them now. An unsatisfactory wife.

  Turning on the shower, she quickly got in and stood there, remembering how just four days ago, Everson made love to her in this shower. And now she wondered, no, she figured out that his sudden burst of passion for her was probably what he had been wanting to do with Eliana. His desire for another woman had elevated him to a high that he’d never felt before and then he’d come home like a raging bull and made love to her – right here in the shower – like there was no tomorrow.

  June closed her eyes, trying to force the memory away, but it was so potent, his lovemaking so thorough, she couldn’t forget it if she wanted to. And then she got to thinking about his lies. He said he didn’t sleep with Eliana-the-hoe but he also said he hadn’t kissed her, and that turned out to be a lie. After he told so many lies, how was she supposed to believe anything he had to say? Why would he put her in this position? What did she do to deserve an unfaithful, lying, cheating, conniving husband?

  Falling into the same pattern as she did when her ex-boyfriend cheated on her in the past, she started analyzing herself – looking for what she could’ve done, or didn’t do, that contributed to his infidelity. Was she not good enough? Not pretty enough? What did Eliana have that made her a force to steal someone else’s husband? Or was it not so much about what Eliana had more than it was about the things Everson lost for his wife? Respect. Commitment. Loyalty.

  Out of the shower, she did a rush job of towel drying herself then put on a black, fuzzy robe. From there she went downstairs to get something to drink. Only thing was, she didn’t know what she wanted. Coffee? Juice? Water? Everson?

  Everson?

  She frowned instantly upon laying eyes on him. He was casually leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. Legs crossed at the ankle. On his feet were a pair of brown leather Ferragamo loafers. On his body, a pair of khakis and a button-down, short-sleeved plaid shirt that showed his thick biceps. And she recognized the scent of the cologne he was wearing since she was the one who bought it for him – Gucci Guilty. How fitting?

  “What are you doing here?” she asked nasally. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He was even ballsy enough to make a pot of coffee like the two of them would sit down and have a lovely morning of sipping coffee together.

  “I just got here. I stayed at a hotel last night…figured I’d come back after the initial shock of everything wore off so we could talk rationally.”

  June glared at him. He had to be kidding, right? “Shock, you say?”

  “Maybe shock isn’t the right word. I assumed you’d be calmer today.”

  “You thought once I slept it off, I’d be okay and ready to leap back into your arms again?” she asked bitterly.

  “That’s not what I’m saying, June.”

  “It sounds to me like that’s what you’re saying, but just to clarify where I am so there’s no confusion, the sight of you still disgusts me. The shock will never wear off and we have nothing else to talk about. Nothing!”

  “Baby, I know—”

  “Don’t call me baby,” June cut in to say. “I’m not your baby.”

  “I know you’re upset, June, but you need to be rational. It happened. I would hope we could sit down, as husband and wife, and talk through this. How about you sit down and let me fix you a cup of coffee?”

  June had never considered herself a violent person, but this situation was bringing out the worst in her. Yesterday, she was thinking about knives. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to land a good, solid slap across Everson’s lying face.

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  “No,” she said shaking her head. “I’d rather eat glass.”

  Everson sighed heavily. “June—”

  “I said no, and if you try to hand me a cup of coffee, it’s going to get dashed in your face.”

  “June—”

  “If you want to chat with somebody over coffee, why not dial up your mistress? I’m sure she’s willing and able. Maybe y’all can make another baby while you’re at it. Oh, my bad…you probably did that already. Last weekend.”

  All Everson could do was stand there silent as he looked at her. Examining her.

  “You can stand there looking stupid all you want, but we ain’t going to sit down and talk about nothing. I’m not a freakin’ business where you roll up and analyze something. You’re not leading a conversation with me for the sole purpose of convincing me of your love because you don’t love me.”

  “I do love you,” he interjected to say.

  “Nope…sure don’t,” June said. “If you love me, why were you laid up in a hotel room, kissing another woman? You probably got children spread all up and down the East Coast for all I know.”

  He sighed. “What are you trying to accomplish right now?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’re not supposed to be here, so leave. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see your cheap face. The shock hasn’t worn off. It never will. For the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives, I’ll never look at you the same whether we’re together or not. Right now, in this moment, we’re not together. Right now, in this moment, E-ver-son, I wouldn’t care if I ever saw you again. I’m in no shape to talk to you, so get whatever you came for and get out.”

  He thought long and hard about her tone. He’d never seen her this way. He knew she meant business. Taking a few steps towards the living room, preparing to go upstairs and round up some more of his things, he stopped, turned around and looked at her. Instead of shutting his mouth and leaving the room, he decided to ask another question. “Are we still hosting the family dinner tomorrow?” He didn’t realize how dumb he sounded until the question actually left his mouth. Or maybe it was the look of unfiltered rage he saw flash on June’s face.

  Her eyebrows raised as high as she could get them. Any higher, they’d touch the ceiling. “Are we still hosting the family dinner tomorrow? Did you really fix your lips to ask me some crap like that? Are we still having the family dinner? No! We ain’t having no family dinner!”

  “This dispute is between us. We shouldn’t take this out on the family.”

  “Then you should’ve thought about that before you went tumbling around on Eliana’s bed. Now, you want to save face and invite the family over so they think we made up—so they can think little, dumb June accepts the fact that she’s married to a cheater and is willing to work things out,” she said with sarcasm in her voice. “You—you must’ve done bumped your flippin’ head if you think for one second, I will sit down and have dinner with you.” June took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice from the dispenser on the refrigerator before adding water. When she turned around, Everson was gone.

  Finally, she thought as she rolled her eyes. It probably wasn’t a good idea for her to stay at the house. That gave him the option to roll up there any time he wanted, just to try to force a conversation. To try to work things out on his own terms. How was it that the person who cheated was sooo sorry when they got caught? Why not take the time to think about the consequences of their actions before actually going through with them? Like, when Everson was making the Myrtle Beach hotel reservation, did he stop and say, you know, I can’t do this to June. I love her too much to be lying to her; telling her I’m in one city but really in another. Or, the first day he spent at the beach with Eliana, did he say, this feels wrong. I shouldn’t be here with her. This woman isn’t my wife. Or how about when they walked into the restaurant together? Why didn’t it dawn on him: I can’t have dinner with this woman. I love my wife. She’s the woman I want to be having dinner with. Where was the rationale when he stepped inside of the Eliana’s hotel room? When he climbed up on her? Put his mouth on the broad?

  June set the glass on the counter and leaned forward, relieving the cramps in her stomach. The tension. Not only could she not stand to see him – she didn’t want to smell him.
His cologne made her sick. Knowing he was upstairs made her nauseous. She was seriously reconsidering this living arrangement.

  Chapter 17

  Everson took enough clothes for a few days along with other items he needed. His laptop. Cell phone charger. Shoes. After tossing the bag in the back of his car, he didn’t bother trying to go back inside of the house to say bye to June. He just left, heading straight for his parent’s house. He’d personally tell them that the dinner was off and find out for himself if the email that Eliana had given him came from them. He didn’t think his parents would send something like that, but he had to be sure about it.

  Pulling up behind his father’s Buick in the driveway, he got out, walked up to the door and pushed the doorbell.

  Elowyn opened the door moments later. “Everson, what are you doing here, son?” She embraced him.

  “Hey, Ma,” he said, wrapping his arms lovingly around his silver-haired mama. She was shorter than him, and even in her sixties, still looked beautiful with that black-don’t-crack, supple skin.

  When she released him, she said, “You’re supposed to be home helping June prepare dinner for this evening.”

  Stepping inside, Everson looked respectfully at his mother and said, “There’s not going to be a dinner. At least there won’t be at my house.”

  Elowyn appeared distraught. “What happened? I was looking forward to it.”

  Everson sighed heavily. “Is Dad here? I need to talk to both of you.”

  “Yes. He’s back in the kitchen finishing up breakfast. Come on back, Everson. You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you but I do need to discuss something with the both of you.”

  “All right.”

  When Everson came into the view of his father, Theodore said, “Hey, son. I thought that was you.”

 

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