Paper-Thin Walls

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  His guts twisted with overwrought nerves and bile roiled in his stomach. His forehead broke into a sweat despite the chilly morning. He stepped from the sidewalk into the grass and hurled, throwing up a putrid brown liquid that stank of liquor and semi-digested burgers. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt and then used the icy cold, metal mailbox to steady himself.

  Hailey was going to be furious, and rightly so. He banged his fist against the letter container. “Why? What have I done?”

  After what seemed like an eternity, a dark blue car rounded the end of the block and came rolling to a stop next to him. He climbed in the back and gave his home address to the driver. But as house after house passed by, one block at a time, the closer he drew to home, the more he dreaded facing Hailey. She was his everything, the love of his life. He loved her with all his heart, and his little boy, too. Ryan was a family man through and through. He’d never cheat on Hailey. He wouldn’t. And yet…

  Chapter Three

  Hailey

  A noise woke me from a deep slumber. Possibly it was a car door. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked to find myself curled up on the couch under a dark gray throw. Just a hint of morning dawn peeked in through the living room window, but from the small lamp that was left on during the night, the wall clock was visible enough to show it was nearing six in the morning.

  At first, I couldn’t remember why I was here and not in bed with Ryan. Then, everything came crashing back like a ton of bricks. Realizing I had inadvertently fallen asleep in my endeavor to wait for the bar to close, I remembered Ryan hadn’t come home. And apparently, he was still AWOL.

  “Shit,” I muttered sitting up straight and collecting my muddled thoughts.

  Before having time to formulate a plan of action, I heard a commotion on the front porch. A hefty thud fell against the exterior of the old wooden door and then metal on metal struck again and again at the keyhole. Finally, a connection was made, the lock clicked open and in stumbled Ryan.

  From my darkened position on the couch, I watched him fumbling with the key, trying to get it free from the latch. Once he successfully disengaged it, he dropped his keyring twice on the floor before he managed to pocket the set. Quietly, he eased the door closed in a sad attempt at not waking me, and then he leaned his head against the frame, just standing there in a slumped position.

  For a moment I couldn’t have been more elated at seeing him alive and seemingly unharmed. But it was only for a tiny moment. After quickly assessing his condition, my emotions were instantly replaced with raging anger. His demeanor was hungover, but otherwise he didn’t look beaten up and his clothes weren’t covered in blood. He’d put me through a night of living hell and, alive or not, I was more than a little pissed.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I growled from my position on the divan.

  “Uh …” His gaze slowly turned toward me, his face filling with surprise, shock and absolute fear.

  “Well,” I pressed after his silence had tested my patience. “I called, texted and emailed you a million times. Why couldn’t you have answered me? I was worried sick that something life-threatening had happened to you.” I glared at him, expecting a logical explanation as to why he couldn’t have picked up his damned phone.

  “Uh,” Ryan grunted again. “I had too much to drink and crashed at a friend’s house. I guess I was too out of it to phone you. As soon as I woke up, I came home. But truly, I’m sorry for worrying you.”

  “Which friend?” I demanded. And he’d better not say Jeff because I knew that was a lie. I had spoken to Jeff after he had arrived back at his home. And Ryan was not with him.

  He leaned on the back of the loveseat, using it to hold himself upright. His gaze wandered around the room, unable to meet my eyes. “I’m going to be sick,” he groaned, rushing down the hallway and shutting the bathroom door.

  Gross vomiting noises had me gagging. In an all-out effort to prevent a sympathetic reaction, I held my fingers in my ears and counted out loud to one hundred. When the episode passed, he left the bathroom and slowly trudged up the stairs, failing to return to me.

  Not about to let things slide, I bounded off the couch and raced down the hall, catching up to his weaving attempt at climbing the stairs. Following him into our bedroom, he began shucking his shoes and pants.

  “Where were you?” I demanded, throwing my hands on my hips and glaring straight at him.

  He clumsily fiddled with the buttons on his shirt and then tossed it on top of his other clothing. “I don’t feel well, Hailey. Please, let’s do this later. I need to sleep this off. Then we’ll talk.”

  My face pinched together, and my fury rose. “For the whole night I imagined you being dead. I called Jeff. I had the bar page your name. I contemplated calling hospitals, police stations and even my parents. For God’s sake, Ryan, just say the friend’s name. How hard can it be?”

  Easing his butt down on the edge of the bed, he slowly peered up at me. His face took on a pitiful look. “I don’t remember much of what happened last night. I guess I drank too much. Or maybe I have food poisoning. I don’t know. But after I left the bar and started walking back to the car, Shannon called after me to wait up. She was leaving, too, and wanted someone to walk with her. Something sickly caught up with me even before I reached the car. I wasn’t in any condition to drive, and Shannon offered to bring me home. I barely remember getting in her car and then I must’ve passed out before giving her our address. Without knowing where to take me, she took me to her apartment. That’s where I woke up. Then I came home. It’s not a big deal, Hailey, so don’t make it one.”

  “You spent the night with Shannon Lowry!!!!” I thought my head was going to fly off my neck. My eyes were threatening to pop from their sockets. Shannon Lowry was the drop-dead, gorgeous blonde with the killer body who manned the reception desk at Premier Designs. On more than one occasion when I’d met up with Ryan for lunch, I had noticed his gaze lingering on her for far too long. “Did you sleep in the same bed!?” I screeched.

  “Hailey, please don’t do this right now. Please. My head and stomach are both killing me.”

  “Is that a yes?” I shrieked, my voice ramping up, despite Adam being asleep in the room across the hall.

  “She had a one-bedroom apartment. I don’t even remember getting out of the car. Hailey, for God’s sake, please let this go.”

  “What about a couch!” I shouted, my anger reaching the red zone.

  “I just told you I don’t even remember getting out of her car. How could I have possibly done anything else?” He glared at me through bloodshot eyes. “Hailey, for God’s sake, look at the condition I’m in right now … and this is after having thrown up twice. Do you really think I could’ve performed?” He put on his best I’m-sorry face. “Please Hailey, this is nothing to get worked up over. Seriously, I don’t remember anything happening, but if something comes to me later, I promise to let you know. But for now, please, just let me sleep this off.”

  My preference would have been to declared World War III, but my emotions were interfering with my normal level-headedness. Perhaps a cooling-off period was in our best interests. “Fine, but you’re in serious trouble, and we’re not done talking this over. You’re not getting out of this discussion.”

  “I’m very well aware,” he said with a bit of an attitude.

  “Do not push me, Ryan. You’re the one who’s at fault … don’t even try to make me look like the villain.”

  “Just let me sleep, Hailey.” Ryan stood from the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers. “Goodnight,” he said, crawling under the linens and adjusting the pillow.

  “Right, goodnight,” I remarked in a hateful tone.

  No, this discussion was not over by a long shot.

  Chapter Four

  Hailey

  Ryan was lightly snoring within moments. It irritated me to no end. I wanted to wake him up by throttling him. Then kicking him in the balls. He’d slept with Shannon L
owry. He’d made it sound all innocent … too drunk to give her the home address. Too drunk to have sex with her. Bullshit. I didn’t buy it for a New York minute.

  My first instinct was to leave him and immediately file for a divorce. I was better than being cheated on. Then I thought of our son. He loved his father so much. Stomping out of our bedroom, I tiptoed into Adam’s room. Thankfully, our beautiful baby boy had slept through my tirade. Ryan and I had never had cross words in front of Adam, especially not ones with raised voices.

  Adam had hardly moved the entire night and Trumpet was still cuddled next to him. Daylight was seeping through his blue cotton curtains, making the room radiant enough that I turned off his closet light and crept out, leaving him to his blissful sleep.

  On the return pass by our open bedroom door, I once again considered waking Ryan and giving him a piece of my mind. The bedside clock was nearing seven. Adam would be awake within the hour. Knowing the small timeframe wouldn’t allow for my own much-needed rest, I went ahead and took a shower and dried my hair. While I was in the closet selecting my clothing, I heard Ryan’s phone ping. Then ping again, registering two texts.

  Unable to curtail my curiosity, I headed for the noise coming from within his jacket pocket. With shaking hands, I pulled the phone out like it was a bomb about to go off. Pressing in his passcode, I noted the red numeral two on his text app. Pausing for a long moment, my finger hovered over the green button. Then I mashed it. A sickening feeling took hold of my stomach realizing it was from Shannon Lowry.

  “No,” I cried out, looking at a sideview picture of my husband in her bed, with her straddled atop him – untethered boobs everywhere – in the full throes of sex. Closing my eyes against the horror of it, I tried desperately to pull my mind away from the image of my husband having sex with another woman. It was too late. Awful thoughts were already imprinted on my brain. In my head, I even heard him making the same grunting noises he made with me. So much for being too drunk. I was going to kill Ryan.

  The second text read: So much fun last night. Let’s do it again real soon.

  Yes, killing my husband seemed like a wonderful idea. I noted she was in his contacts, but these were the only texts registering from her. Fully believing he was in the habit of deleting the evidence, I took screen shots and sent them to my own phone, once by text and then by email. I wondered, after Ryan slept it off and looked at the picture, would “something come to him.” Would he let me know as he had promised? Or would he flat-out lie?

  “Momma,” Adam’s tiny voice came from down the hallway. Then I heard the patter of little feet heading into the bedroom.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” I said, scooping him up and hugging him against me.

  “I’m hungry. Can we have pancakes and bacon, please?”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed, peering back at Ryan who was still sawing logs. The comfortable asshole.

  “Daddy’s tired?” Ryan asked, throwing a look over my shoulder as we exited the bedroom.

  “Daddy’s not feeling well,” I answered, supposedly the truth, according to Ryan.

  “Poor, Daddy,” Adam sympathized.

  “Yeah, poor Daddy,” I said in my most uncaring voice.

  Being a good wife and mother, I prepared enough breakfast for myself, Adam and Ryan. But of course, Ryan couldn’t be bothered to join us. When I went back upstairs and rousted him, he complained his head was pounding, and he didn’t feel like eating.

  “Daddy’s not here,” Adam noted when he climbed into his booster chair, and I placed his lime green plastic plate in front of him.

  “Daddy still isn’t feeling well,” I reminded him. Brewing myself a steaming cup of hot tea, I joined Adam at our small dinette table positioned off to one side of the kitchen.

  “I hope he gets well soon,” Adam commented as he dug into a bite of pancake which I had already chopped into bitesize particles.

  I simply gave Adam a weak smile, unable to think about what the day had in store for my marriage. It was bad enough knowing Ryan had consumed too much alcohol and slept with Shannon Lowry under the pretext of being too soused to sexually perform. But that picture told an entirely different story, one worth a thousand words … all of them screaming from my mouth.

  Chapter Five

  Ryan

  When Ryan rolled over, he was met with the sun beating down on his sweat-drenched face. Hailey had raised the blinds, making it blindingly bright. And she’d turned up the heating, making it hotter than hell. Then again, Ryan figured he was going to be in hell when he climbed out of bed and faced his angry wife.

  He’d already kicked the covers to the end of the bed, so he merely crawled out and headed for the master bathroom. Shedding his underwear, he stepped under the shower spray and scrubbed himself clean. Leaning against the back wall and letting the water beat against his chest, he tried to come up with a plan of action on how best to approach Hailey. He knew she would be livid. And now that he’d had a few hours of sleep, he kind of, sort of, remembered following Shannon to her car. Jesus, what had he done?

  After toweling off and getting dressed, Ryan checked his phone. Nothing showed up as new. To make sure Hailey – in her wrath – hadn’t gone through his phone and cleared away any new notifications, he went into recent phone calls, old emails and previous texts.

  “Holy crap,” Ryan yelped under his breath after accessing the texts from Shannon. “Shit,” he cussed, pacing the floor, back and forth in front of the bed. He knew Hailey had seen the messages because they no longer registered as new. He was in deep trouble, and so was his marriage.

  He checked Adam’s room first to see if his son was playing. After finding the room empty, he sneaked down the stairs, listening for noises. He imagined Hailey would be waiting for him and that words were going to fly between them, but he didn’t want Adam hearing his parents arguing. When he didn’t hear anything, he hoped Hailey had taken Adam over to her parents’ house for the same reasons.

  He peeked in the living room as he passed by. There was no sign of Hailey or Adam, and the TV was turned off. He ventured into the kitchen and found it equally quiet. He snatched a piece of bacon on his way through and circled around to the front door. Peering through the curtain, he noted Hailey’s car was gone. She must’ve taken Adam over to her parents’ house. He wondered what she would tell them and how awkward it would be the next time he saw his in-laws.

  Letting the drapery drop from his fingertips, he backtracked to the kitchen, heated his pancakes in the microwave, and brewed himself a cup of coffee. It’d be okay, he told himself, thinking Hailey knew what she knew and had still cooked his breakfast. They could work this out. They had a child together. Their marriage was solid. They’d have an argument. He’d offer marriage counseling. In the long run, they’d be stronger together. So, he told himself.

  When two hours passed by and Hailey hadn’t returned, Ryan began to worry. Surely Hailey wouldn’t have left him, but still, where was she? The thought sent his heart into a tailspin, and he raced up the stairs to their closet, doing a mental count of her clothing. It still looked full, but would he miss a few garments? He rushed to the bathroom and checked for her toothbrush and a few of her toiletries.

  “It’s all there. She wouldn’t leave you. Stop being ridiculous,” he said aloud, as if hearing it was more reassuring.

  From downstairs, he heard his phone ringing. He couldn’t get his feet to go fast enough. Taking the stairs two at a time, he snatched up the phone from where he’d left it on the table and swiped it open as fast as he could.

  “Hello, hello. It’s me. I’m here.” In his haste, he hadn’t looked at the caller ID, thinking it had to be Hailey.

  “Well, don’t you sound excited to hear from me?” The voice was Shannon Lowry’s. Ryan felt a knot growing in his stomach.

  “Uh … Shannon,” he muttered, highly considering hanging up on her.

  “Of course, silly. Who did you expect?” She laughed, her perfect feminine voice
resembling a soft-spoken angel. He wished she wasn’t so attractive in every possible way. It’d be a hard hurdle for Hailey to get over. “It was disappointing to wake up without you beside me.”

  Ryan didn’t know what to say. He still only remembered fragmented bits and pieces about last night, not to mention, he was a married man. Shannon knew he was married. Hell, he introduced her to his wife. What was Shannon thinking? “Yes, well, as you know, I have a wife and son,” he finally pointed out.

  “It didn’t seem to bother you last night.” She giggled and Ryan squirmed. “You were magnificent,” she cooed.

  Ryan tried hard to remember anything about having sex with Shannon, but he just couldn’t. Even that awful, horrible, condemning picture of them naked together hadn’t produced any remembrances. He felt his throat closing in and his brain searching for words. “Shannon, I don’t remember what happened last night. But I know it shouldn’t have. Like I said, I’m married and I’m a father. I like that. So, whatever went on last night, it’s not going to be repeated.”

  Shannon was silent for a long moment and then finally she snipped, “We’ll see about that. From the way you went after me last night, I don’t think you’ve had your fill.” She laughed triumphantly, then hung up.

  Ryan stared at his disconnected phone, then into space, wishing he’d never attended his boss’s birthday party. Everyone at his office knew he was a happily married man. He’d made no bones about loving his wife. Hailey was all he ever wanted and all he ever needed.

  He just wished his wife would come home and this would all be over. Instead, noon came and went and now it was late afternoon, and still he hadn’t heard from Hailey. After another hour passed, he forced himself to phone her. When she didn’t answer, he left a voice message.