Commitment

by Golland, K. M.

  “You did?”

  I smiled and nodded quickly. “Oooh yeah.”

  “You want to do it again some time?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged, playfully. “Why not?”

  Lying there, staring into each other’s eyes and enjoying a moment so rare that it felt almost brand new, our peaceful euphoria vanished when the sound of a door opened then slammed shut followed by a rumble of footsteps and the words, “Muuuuum. Daaaaaaad, where are you?”

  “Shit! The kids are back!” I shrieked. “Quick! Get off.” I bucked his body from mine like a bull in a rodeo then barrel rolled to the end of the bed. “The door, Dean. Hurry up, shut it.”

  “You’re closer,” he said with strain, hopping, his foot stuck in the bunched up mess that were his pants.

  “I’ve got more bits to hide.”

  “Fuck!” He abandoned his pants and lunged for the door, tripping at the last second and crashing headfirst into it, somehow pushing it shut just as the boys arrived.

  I gasped and covered my mouth, not knowing whether to laugh or run to him. It was a decent collision. “Are you okay?”

  “Did I make it?” he murmured from under his arm.

  Giggling, I grabbed my top and quickly popped it over my head before bending down next to his heaped body. “Yeah, I think you did.”

  He raised his hand for a high five. “Go team!”

  I slapped my hand onto his and collapsed next to him, unable to hold back my laughter. “Oh my God! What were we thinking?”

  “That’s just it, love. We weren’t. And it was perfect.”

  I stopped laughing, his words striking a chord. He was right. We hadn’t thought, or planned. We hadn’t scheduled or built expectation that almost always failed. We’d just … gone with it.

  “Dad?” Thomas asked, his muffled voice on the other side of the door startling me from my thoughts

  “What?”

  There was silence followed by whispers and giggles.

  “Say it.”

  “No, you say it.”

  “What?” Dean groaned.

  “Your penis looks like Snuffleupagus.”

  I snort-laughed and jerked back, hitting my head against the wall as the rumble of footsteps and the boys’ laughter faded as they ran off.

  “Oh my God, ouch!” I cradled my head in my hand.

  “Serves you right,” he said, playfully, slowly rising to his feet then leaning down and kissing me on the forehead. “I’m gonna go wash Snuffy in the shower.”

  Nodding, I giggled some more and watched his naked body retreat to the bathroom, his hand rubbing his head the entire time.

  And that was when my smile faltered, my chest tightened, and an overwhelming sense of guilt and dread hit me in the worst possible way. It was when I realised I might have ruined my marriage.

  Tash, you stupid, stupid bitch. What have you done?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dean

  Fuck me dead. I think I’m seeing stars.

  Squinting at myself in the mirror, I moved my hair from my forehead and checked the damage, finding a minor red mark, which was pretty bloody lucky considering I’d just slammed a door shut with my head only. Shit, that hurt.

  I propped my hands on the cabinet and shook my head in disbelief, chuckling as I looked down into the basin. Snufflefuckingupagus?

  Those boys were gonna be the death of me one day. Then again, maybe Tash would be; my body ached all over and I was fairly sure I’d pulled a muscle in my arse. Damn.

  I squatted, stretching in hope of relief but still smiling because what just happened in the bedroom was well worth the physical torture plaguing my arse and head. For once I hadn’t settled for missionary, worried I wouldn’t get laid at all, and instead took the lead and tried something that I wanted, something that she’d liked it.

  And that blowjob … where the fuck had that come from?

  Unable to wipe the smile from my face, I walked to the shower, turned on the taps and stepped under the spray of water, closing the glass door behind me. To say I was a little stunned was an understatement, and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I could very well be concussed. No, I was stunned because Bryce and Derek had been right, which meant I needed to have another chat to them about everything else they’d told me. It was a breakthrough, and I wanted to know more.

  After cleaning up in the shower, I made my way out of the bathroom and found Tash in the kitchen, cooking. Can this day get any better? I guess it could if she wanted round two after the kids went to bed it, but I wasn’t about to push my luck and suggest it. Then again, maybe I should. Damn, I really need to speak to Bryce.

  “What are you making, love?” I asked, opening the fridge and taking out a beer.

  “Nonna’s Arancini, except I’ve run out of mozzarella.”

  “Want me to shoot to the shops and get some?”

  “Na, it’s too late. I’ve used tasty cheese instead.” She turned to face me and screwed up her nose. “Just don’t tell Nonna. I’ve basically stripped these little rice balls of their woggness.”

  “What’s woggness?” Thomas asked, taking a peek at the Arancini over Tash’s shoulder.

  “It’s all things obnoxiously Italian, including you.”

  “I’m Italian?”

  “Yep.”

  “Half Italian,” I corrected.

  “I don’t think you can actually be ‘half’ Italian. You’re either Italian or you’re not.”

  “What’s Italian?”

  Tash spun to face Thomas, placed her hands on both sides of his face, and groaned playfully. “It’s a way of life. Now, don’t you have homework to do?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Homework sucks. Why do we have to do it anyway?”

  “Oh, Thomas, you’ve got so many more years of homework ahead of you. I suggest you learn to accept it, like it even.”

  “Never.” He trudged off to collect his homework book from his school bag.

  “So, I was thinking we should visit Bryce and Lexi later today.”

  “What?” She snapped her head in my direction. “Why?”

  “I want to meet Eleanor.”

  “Who?”

  “Bryce’s new girl. Apparently he picked her up this week. He was telling me all about her at Thomas’—”

  She held up a cheese and rice covered hand, some of the cheese and rice falling to the kitchen floor. “Hang on a minute. What are you—”

  “His new Shelby Mustang GT500,” I interrupted, chuckling. “You know … Eleanor, from the movie Gone in Sixty Seconds?”

  She nodded but hesitated for a moment. “Right. Well … they might be busy. It’s Saturday afternoon.”

  “So ring and find out.”

  “It’s bit a rude, don’t you think? Inviting ourselves over.”

  “Since when has that ever stopped you before? It’s Lexi, Tash.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s also my place of work,” she whined. “I’ve been there all week.”

  “I get that, but Bryce’s penthouse isn’t your place of work.”

  She huffed. “Okay, I’ll shoot her a message.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, we were riding the elevator to the penthouse for Bryce’s famous fish ‘n’ chip Saturday, and I couldn’t be happier.

  “So what’s so good about his fish ‘n’ chips?” I asked.

  “I dunno.” Tash shrugged. She was leaning against the fancy schmancy brass railing and mirrored panelling surrounding us, her foot tapping. “Alexis once mentioned that he makes the best tartare sauce, so maybe it’s that.” She gently clipped William over the head. “Stop blowing fish faces on the mirror. You’re leaving smudges.”

  I smiled but gave Will my do-as-your-mother-says look when he glared at me.

  He huffed and looked down at his feet. “Mum, are you sure Nate is gonna be home?”

  “I think so. I’m pretty sure Rick was bringing him and Charlotte back today.”

  “How’s R
ick going, by the way?” I asked, interrupting them. “I haven’t seen him since Bryce and Alexis’s engagement party.”

  “Yeah, good.” She gave me a weird smile and continued impatiently tapping her foot.

  “You have to admit that he’s had a rough couple of years with Alexis leaving him.”

  “Karma’s a bitch.” Her answer was curt and uninterested.

  “You alright? You’ve been a bit anxious since we got here?”

  “I’m fine. I just don’t like elevators.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since the one I was in last night got stuck.”

  “Shit! Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I didn’t have time. And anyway, it’s fine, it wasn’t stuck for long.”

  Thomas threaded his fingers through Tash’s. “Is this elevator gonna get stuck?”

  “No!” She pulled him to her side and wrapped her arm around him. “And if it did, we’d be fine.”

  He nodded, and then his eyes lit up. “Because Dale would save us, right?” There’s that fucking name again.

  “He’d see us through the security cameras and he’d save us. Can he see us now?” Thomas jumped up and down and waved at the camera perched high in the corner of the cart. “Hi, Dale. It’s me, Cadet Thomas.”

  “Stop that,” Tash hissed. “He’s not watching. He can’t see you.”

  “How do you know? We watched you when you were in your office, remember? He can see everything.”

  A feeling of uncertainty swept over me. He watched Tash when she was in her office? What the fuck? “You have a camera in your office?”

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes, dismissively. “It’s outside my office. Security can see in when my door is open.”

  “Isn’t that an invasion of your privacy?” I wasn’t sure I liked that this Dale dude could spy on my wife.

  Tash tilted her head a little. “Well, no, it’s not. They have every right to monitor their employees.”

  I shrugged; she had a point. “Fair enough.” It also got me thinking as to whether I had a camera in my office. I’d never even looked.

  The elevator pulled to a stop on the forty-third floor of City Tower. We stepped out and made our way to the penthouse apartment, pushing the buzzer in the foyer and being greeted by Alexis when she opened the door.

  “Hi, guys. Come on in.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated every time we visited Bryce and Lexi, because as you’d expect, the penthouse was dripping with money. I’d only ever been here a handful of times — a few before the explosion and a few after the renovation — and although the previous ‘rich dude’ interior of blacks and whites had been replaced with creams and browns of ‘rich family’, you were still aware of the wealth surrounding you, if not for the massive chandelier hanging in the center of the living room, then for the skyscraper views beyond the floor to two-story-high ceiling windows. But that wasn’t to say Bryce and Alexis rubbed it in your face or made you feel uncomfortable, because they didn’t. And without personally knowing any other billionaires for comparison, Bryce was a decent, giving bloke. I liked the guy, and I was glad Tash worked for him.

  “Make yourselves at home. Bryce is in the kitchen with Lucy, Nic and the little ones. And, boys,” she said to William and Thomas. “Nate and Charli are in their rooms. Go on upstairs if you like.”

  The boys rushed up the spiral staircase while Tash and I followed Alexis into the kitchen. Lucy — Bryce’s sister — and her partner Nicole were feeding little Brayden and their son, Alexander, who were both in highchairs. Bryce was standing behind the bench, dipping what looked like pieces of seafood in batter while wearing an apron that read ‘Nobody likes a burnt burger’. It was not exactly the type of apron you’d expect a billionaire to wear. Then again, I wouldn’t expect him to wear one at all. He could afford to ruin his clothes.

  As we approached the bench, Bryce lifted his chin and smiled. “Tash, Dean, glad you could make it.” He wiped his batter-covered hands on a tea towel and then threw it on the chopping board beside him. “Beer?” he asked me.

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “How ‘bout you, Tash?”

  “You should know by now, boss-man, that my middle name is vino.”

  His eyebrow rose, his expression humoured annoyance. “Vino it is.”

  “Soo …” I said, nodding toward him with a shit-eating grin on my face. “Interesting apron you got there.”

  Bryce glanced down for the slightest of seconds then gave Alexis one of his infamous smirks before turning to open the fridge.

  She giggled and leaned over the bench, resting her head in her hands. “Carly and I got them for Bryce and Derek. Aren’t they cute?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of ... unusual.”

  Bryce handed me my beer and Tash her glass of wine then positioned himself behind Alexis. She stood upright, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “The apron has a hidden meaning,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “And she won’t bloody tell me what.”

  He went to bite her skin but she pulled away and punched him on the arm. “Very true, Mr Clark. And I shall never tell.”

  Seeing the two of them together reminded me of how Tash and I once were. We hadn’t been all touchey-feeley or lovey-dovey with each other since before the boys were born. Come to think of it, a lot had changed since the boys had come along. But that was marriage. Our flame still burned, just with less ferocity, less fuel. And for a while after William was born, I’d continued to try and fuel our flame by making ‘moves’ on my wife, but slowly and surely she’d ‘moved’ away from my moves until I just didn’t bother making them anymore.

  Rejection stung no matter how old you were or what genitals you packed.

  I never pushed the issue with her, though. I understood that being a mother to two boys was draining and hard, because being a father to two boys wasn’t all that different. Deep down I knew that she loved me despite our flame only flickering. I knew that she appreciated and respected me, as I did her. And at the end of the day that was what kept our flame from extinguishing. Still, I’d had no idea that sex after marriage was like an Olympic medal — you had a chance to fight like fuck for it every four years.

  I grinned, having fought earlier in the day and scoring myself the gold.

  “NO!” Alexander shouted just as a piece of broccoli flew past my head.

  My grin vanished.

  “Naughty boy,” Nic gasped. “Don’t do that.”

  “Down. Ander down,” he protested, slamming his grubby hands on the highchair tray.

  Lucy put down the bowl and spoon she was feeding Brayden with. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Did it hit you?” She wiped his chubby little chin and cheeks with his bib. “All done. Good boy. Aunty Lucy will feed you over her naughty son any day.”

  I laughed. “Na, he missed, it’s all good. What Tash throws at me is a lot worse than that.”

  My wife glared. “I’ll throw something at you now if you’re not careful.”

  I winked at her and chuckled … because I’d no doubt that she would.

  “Right. I’ll set the table,” Alexis said, shrugging out from under Bryce’s arm and bending down to open a cupboard.

  Tash put her wine glass down on the bench. “I’ll help.”

  “Good. Hold this.” Alexis stood back up and brought with her a huge roll of what looked like paper. She disappeared behind the bench again, this time remerging with what looked like a picnic rug. “Okay. Follow me.”

  I was very fucking confused.

  Minutes later, they were back, the fish ‘n’ chips were ready, Lucy and Nic had settled the boys, and I was being asked to carry a bottle of tomato sauce and a bowl of lemon wedges. I followed Alexis and Bryce out of the kitchen and nearly stopped short when I noticed a picnic style set-up on the floor in the middle of the room.

  I was now even more fucking confused.

  “Don’t look so scared, Dean,”
Lucy said with a laugh.

  “I’m not. I just … wasn’t expecting this.”

  “How did you eat your fish ‘n’ chips when you were younger then?”

  “On a plate, and sat on the couch in front of the telly.”

  “Well,” she said, scooping some chips and fish pieces on to the paper spot in front of her. “Mum and Dad always spread it out on the floor like this for us. When they died, Bryce and I vowed to keep doing the things that we’d loved doing together as a family. Fish ‘n’ chip Saturday on the floor is one of them.”

  “Except now I cook it,” Bryce chimed in.

  “And you make your own sauce,” Alexis added. She bit her lip and didn’t look up.

  The man smirked, again. “Yes, honey, I do.”

  “Okay. That’s it, ” Tash said, taking the sauce and lemons from my hands and placing them on the paper picnic. “Fess up. What’s so good about Bryce’s sauce?”

  I knelt down beside her and the boys, curious to know the answer.

  “Why it’s homemade, of course,” Alexis explained.

  She and Tash stared each other down, their eyes silently discussing something that was oblivious to the rest of us. When Tash squinted, Alexis pursed her lips. When Alexis smiled, Tash screwed up her face and looked as if she was ready to vomit. And that was when Alexis blurted out “No. Good God no, you idiot.” She also removed the sauce bottle from Charlotte’s over-zealous hands. “You might actually want some chips with your sauce, Charli Bear.”

  Tash playfully whacked William’s arm. “Settle, piglet. Everyone else needs to eat too.” She pointed to Alexis. “And I should hope you’re right, Missy. Because that … what you just insinuated with your Jedi mind trickery, is just … just all kinds of Wrongtown.”

  I took the Coke bottle from Thomas’s shakey grip and poured his drink for him. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

  “Mate,” Bryce said casually, leaning back on his hands, his legs crossed at the ankle. “I wouldn’t even go there.”

  I cocked my head but decided to take his word for it. “If you say so.”