by R. S. Medina
"Okay," I say, shrugging, and staying right where I'm seated on the couch. I pick at the skin around my fingernails until I see beads of blood start pooling. I pinch so the blood pours out faster. I wipe the blood off with my sleeve and then continue picking again.
I don't know what the fuck he wants me to say, and I'm not walking him out or giving him a hug and kiss goodbye. Fuck that. He hesitates a moment longer and then picks up his bag and opens the door. He leaves without another word. And the house is too quiet.
I half expect him to come back. He's not leaving. He wouldn't really leave. This is just a silly fight, and he will come back in and unpack his bag. I called his bluff. Now it's time for him to put an end to it.
But I see his taillights through the front window of our house overlooking our driveway. And his car pulls out of the driveway and into the street. And then he's gone. Just like that.
Anger instantly dissipates into despair.
I stand up from the couch, and my legs feel weak. I feel like my legs are going to collapse and I'll fall in on myself. My heart is barely beating, and I feel like my lungs aren't working right. My chest feels tight, and I feel like I'm not pulling in enough oxygen. I walk over to the door and lock the deadbolt. It slides into place. And Finn is gone.
I lean on the door for support, so I don't fall, and I slide down it. I clutch my knees to my chest, and a sob erupts from me. I can't hold back the tears anymore. Finn left.
And I'm a failure. I am losing my husband. I am losing my marriage. My family is falling apart. I'm a loser. This isn't how I pictured my life. I am a failure. My marriage is a failure. And I was the one who loved more. And look where it got me.
My first night in bed alone without Finn is rough. I toss and turn, and I never realized that it would be this hard to sleep without him. Even when he was on deployments, it was never this hard to sleep without him. I guess it's because I always knew that he would be coming home to me and that he would be home if he could. I knew he was missing me as much as I missed him. I knew that he would much rather be in his bed in his home than in a bunk somewhere in the desert.
Tonight, I miss the heat of his body next to me. It used to comfort me, knowing that he was there. Even when he would wake up scared and panting, I knew he was always going to be there. I toss and turn to find a good sleeping position, and finally fall asleep when I get the bed warm enough and get enough pillows to make it feel like Finn could be on the other side of the bed. I stay on my side of the bed.
When I wake up in the morning, Olivia is already babbling in her crib. I hear her saying "Dada, dada, dada" over and over, and my heart breaks all over again. Finn left. And Olivia isn't going to understand that. She's just going to know that her dad isn't here to play with her.
I get Olivia ready for daycare, and I get ready for work. She's into everything this morning, and it's like she knows that I'm the only one here to take care of her, so she's going to make my life a living hell.
What a way to start a Monday, right?
By the time I get her to daycare, I'm already running late. My hair is messy, and I'm pretty sure I forgot to put deodorant on this morning. My heart drops thinking about having mornings like this every day and becoming a single parent forever.
I check my phone to see if Finn has even called or texted, and he hasn't. I have a text from Tristan though, his usual good morning text. I shouldn't be surprised that Finn hasn't texted, but I am. I wonder if he's missing Olivia and me. Probably not, though. I mean, I'm sure he misses Olivia, but why would he miss me.
I wonder if there is someone else. I instantly get pissed off, because the idea of Finn having another woman pisses me off. I'm such a hypocrite. I have another man texting me right now. But Olivia will not have a stepmom or another woman stepping into the picture of Mom.
I have to pull over on the way to work to pull myself together. Because I feel sick.
Present
The first night away from home, away from Blair and Olivia is rough. I'm furious and ashamed, but I'm too stubborn and prideful to give in and go home.
Plus, I don't want to be with someone who says they hate me. Someone who doesn't understand.
Dad lets me crash in his spare bedroom, and doesn't push too much, knowing that it will just make things worse, but I know that he wants to know what's going on. I'm not going to be able to avoid telling him for long.
I miss Olivia. I miss her baby laughs, and how excited she always is to see me. I don't deserve such a perfect little girl.
After getting a night of sleep, even though it wasn't decent or restful sleep, Dad confronts me at the breakfast table. He's eating, but I'm just having a cup of coffee, black.
"Ok, so what's going on," he finally asks. I sigh.
"Blair and I have been having problems," I say, shrugging. I take a sip of coffee. I don't bring up anything else.
"No shit," he says, shoving some food into his mouth. "What about?" he asks with a mouth full of food.
"Everything," I say, shrugging again. "Money, Olivia, each other, drinking," I say, just listing off a few. Dad rolls his eyes at me.
"Son, I've always taught you not to fight about money," he reminds me. Easier said than done, though. "You're either going to have it, or you're not," he says simply, "but money is the number one reason for divorce. You shouldn't let that rip you and Blair apart." I just nod. I listen to what he has to say, but he doesn't get it either.
"Blair is a good girl," he says. "And I know that no marriage is perfect, but I know she's trying. And I think part of the problem is that you're depressed," he says. I start to open my mouth, but he cuts me off. "Let me finish," he says. "I know you don't believe in depression, but you are depressed. And you have every right to be. You lost your job. You had so much change. You're going through a lot. But you have to pull yourself up, Finn. Do whatever it takes, but you have to do something." I let it sink in. Even though I don't agree, he's still my dad.
"Don't throw your family away because you're struggling," he says, slapping his hand on my shoulder affectionately. I nod. He's right. I need to do something. I need to get it together.
Past
I've only been home for a couple of weeks again when I march back into my commanding officer's office again.
"I'd like to request to be placed back on the deployment schedule again, sir," I say, standing in front of his desk.
He looks up and eyes me, surprise crossing his face.
"Sit, Christian," he says, using my last name like all military members do. I sit in the wooden chair in front of his desk and wait to hear what he has to say. He shuffles some paperwork around on his desk and then looks up at me.
"You just got back," my commanding officer says. I look at him and expect him to say more, but he doesn't so I just nod.
"Yes, sir, but I'm ready to go back," I say, assertively. I don't belong in this world anymore. I don't belong anywhere. I have so much anger and guilt in my heart, corrupting me, staining me, branding me, molding me into someone, something that is unfit to be around others.
My commanding officer eyes me, and then says, "We need to talk." Those four evil fucking words.
Present
Work passes by in a blur. I know people are wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, but I don't care. I've been holed up in my office all day and been as antisocial as possible without being too shut off from my work. I've been distant and vague all day. I'm caught up in my thoughts and know I haven't been myself to onlookers. Amber even notices, but I won't tell her what's going on. Not that I don't want to— I don't even know how to feel. I thought Finn leaving would be easier, and I thought that it was what I wanted, but it's more painful than I thought it would be. I wasn't prepared for that. Does that mean I'm not ready for this? Does it mean we still have a fighting chance? Or is grieving and feeling like shit just part of the natural process?
Tristan: How about that drink tonight?
Me: I can't tonight. Sorry. Rain check.
>
Tristan: ok...
"Earth to Blair," Amber says as she's walking past my office. She stops and leans against the doorway. I look up from my phone, and after a moment of staring at me, she tilts her head. "What is with you?" she asks. "Do you need to talk?"
"I'm fine," I wave at her dismissively. "I just have a lot going on right now that I'm trying to work through," I tell her.
"You know I'm always here for you to talk to," Amber offers. She looks a little hopeful like I'll divulge what is going on with me.
"I know," I smile at her, remaining tightlipped. "And I am so grateful for you. I don't know what I would do without you."
She looks a little disappointed that I won't spill the beans. I'm just not ready to admit that I'm a failure and my husband left. She leans her head against the doorframe and then pushes off the doorframe with her hand. "Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow, Blair." She says. "It's been a long day, and I'm ready to get home." She smiles at me.
"Yeah, me too," I agree with her, logging off my computer and picking up my purse. I follow her out of my office and lock my door. We head to the parking lot together in silence.
"I hope your day gets better," Amber says before we part ways. She pulls her keys out of her purse and starts walking to her car.
"Yeah, me too," I tell her again watching her walk away. I walk to my car. When I get in, I buckle in and check my phone. Not a single text from Finn. I'm a little shocked. But I won't be the first one to text him. I pull out of the parking lot and head to pick up Olivia from daycare. I can tell being a single parent is pretty exhausting.
When I finally finish and have Olivia fed, bathed, and in bed for the night, I head straight to the kitchen for a very large glass of merlot. The first sip is heavenly. I sigh. This is what I needed. I take my glass, and after a second of consideration, I grab the bottle and take it with me.
I sit on the couch and put on another season of Friends and check my phone. Still no text from Finn. That's totally fine. Whatever. Fuck him.
Me: Hey handsome.
Tristan: Hey yourself pretty girl.
Me: What are you doing?
Tristan: Lying in bed and texting you. What happened earlier? Why couldn't we get that drink?
Me: Stuff came up last minute and I couldn't find a babysitter.
I know I probably could have, but I didn't want to have to ask Chazz last minute and lie to her again, and honestly, I'm not sure I could have pulled myself out of this funk long enough to have been a decent date. Not that it was a date, I remind myself. It's just a harmless drink with an old high school friend.
Tristan: well that sucks. I'm sorry. Maybe next time.
Me: Yeah, next time.
Tristan: So...?
Me: tell me something no one else knows about you.
Tristan: like what? That's a hard thing to answer. You love to play this game, don't you?
Me: Yeah, I like knowing things other people don't.
Tristan: I have a drinking problem. I've known it for a while, but I convince myself that if I don't drink liquor and only stick with beer, it's not as bad. That's why I drink beer and don't drink liquor.
Me: I don't know what to say...
Tristan: Your turn.
Me: Finn left me last night. He's staying with his dad to give us both clarity.
Tristan: are you ok? He will come back.
Me: Yeah, I'm okay. And I'm not sure I want him to.
I down my glass of wine, and play another episode of Friends. I pour myself another glass. I haven't had much to eat today because I'm stressed and have zero appetite. I can already feel the wine going to my head. I don't care that Finn hasn't texted me now.
I lounge out on the couch and cover myself with the furry throw blanket that Finn hates. It's warm.
Tristan: what are up to tonight, pretty girl.
Me: Getting drunk on my couch and watching Friends and texting you.
Tristan: drink one for me pretty girl.
Me: oh, I will. I still don't see how you can drink beer though, it's basically horse piss
Tristan: You suck LOL. It's not horse piss. I don't know how you think liquor is better.
Me: liquor is way better, and you suck, sir.
Tristan: Maybe if you want to die.
Me: Maybe I do.
I finish another glass and go to pour myself another, but the bottle is empty except for a few drops. I lick those up as well. I glance at the clock and realize I should probably be getting to bed. It's nine, and I have to be up early. Another day of taking Olivia to daycare by myself and I want to give myself a better start tomorrow than I did today.
Tristan: I kinda like your face too much for that, so too bad.
My heart swells a little bit. How can he be so sweet to me? This is what I miss. I miss feeling good about myself. I miss the warm fuzzies and the butterflies. I miss the excitement. Tristan just does things to me.
Me: You're not the boss of me so too bad.
Tristan: Nope, I'm in too deep. You can't get rid of me now.
I can't stop grinning. He cares about me. He's in too deep. And I don't want to get rid of him. He makes me feel too good. I'm addicted to Tristan Woods.
Me: I don't want to get rid of you. I'm in too deep, too. Want to see something secret? (;
Oh, my God. I can't believe I said that. I need to go to bed. What the fuck am I thinking? I am so bad at this.
While I'm waiting for my phone to ding, I take my empty wine glass and bottle and take it to the sink. I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, and I start undressing for bed.
Tristan: Always. How much have you had to drink?
Me: a whole bottle of wine. Open your Snapchat.
I snap a picture of myself topless and send it to Tristan's Snapchat so it will delete after a few seconds before I can second guess myself. I know I'll probably end up regretting this when I sober up, but tonight I don't care. Tonight, I just want to have a little fun and feel desirable for once.
Tristan: Holy fuck Blair. Oh my God. You have perfect tits. And your nipples are like perfect. Fuck. Why are you doing this to me?
And I am instantly turned on. I want Tristan so bad. The things I would let him do to me if he was here...
I crawl into bed and under the covers before texting him back.
Me: Talk dirty to me, Tristan.
Tristan: oh God, the things I would do to you if I was there.
I balance the phone in one hand so I can text him back, and the other hand slides down my stomach and into my panties. I slowly start to run a finger over my folds. I'm already so aroused.
Tristan: I'd lick all over those beautiful tits of yours. I'd wrap my hand around your throat and gently squeeze while I use my mouth to suck on your nipples and see how hard I can make them.
Me: fuck. I'm touching myself. How did you know I like it a little bit rough?
Tristan: because I like it rough. Then I'd slide down between your thighs and taste you. I bet you'd taste sweet. I wish I could taste you now. I'd make you come so hard. I wouldn't stop until your hands were fisted in my hair and you were shaking and screaming.
Me: oh my fucking God, I want it so bad.
And I really do. I'm so wet just imagining Tristan down between my thighs. Tristan makes me feel desirable and pretty and wanted. He doesn't judge me. He doesn't treat me like shit. He notices me.
I kick off my panties in a hurry. I roll over and open my bedside table drawer, and I look for my vibrator. When I find it, I roll back over and adjust so I can keep texting Tristan, but still use my other hand to use the vibrator. It whirrs to life, and I slide it down under the covers and slowly press just the tip to my center. And it feels so. Fucking. Good.
Me: I'd want you to bend me over the bed, and wrap your fucking hand around my throat, and bite me on the neck a little bit. I'd want you to fuck me so hard I scream your name.
Tristan: Fuck Blair, that sounds so fucking good. I'd give anything to b
e with you right now. I bet we would have amazing sex. Having you bent over would be so fucking hot.
I can feel an orgasm building. I feel like I'm going to fall to pieces any second. I wish Tristan was here. I'd let him take me right here in this room, shoved up against this bed with my fists clenching the sheets. God, I want him so fucking badly.
Me: fuck Tristan, I'm about to finish. Tell me I'm yours.
Tristan: You're my little slut, Blair. You belong to me.
And I fucking come. I come so hard, I gasp for breath. My toes curl, and I fall to pieces and moan and collapse back onto the bed. And it's honestly one of the best orgasms I've ever fucking had. I feel so fucking relaxed. I turn my vibrator off and smile lazily.
Me: I just came so hard. Fuck that was amazing. I want you so fucking bad.
Tristan: I'm so hard for you, Blair.
Me: Show me.
Tristan: are you serious?
Me: Please show me, baby.
A minute or so later, a picture pops up on my screen. Tristan is fucking hung. God, I feel like he would wreck me in the best way possible. His cock looks smooth, and he's rock hard.
Me: Holy fuck, you're huge, Tristan. I want to see you finish for me.
Tristan: Holy shit, Blair. You're wild. You are out of control.
Me: Please, baby. Come for me.
I don't get a text back for a while, and I worry that maybe I pushed it too far. But I'm still too drunk to care. If I took it too far, it's his fault for being a little bitch. I start to doze off from the post orgasm relaxation and wine when my phone pings. I have a Snapchat video. I open it to Tristan's hard dick. His huge hands are wrapped around it, and I see him pumping it. He's trying not to moan, and I finally hear him say "Fuck, Blair" in the sexiest, breathiest way possible, and I'm instantly horny again. I see him finish all over his hand and his abs. And it is so fucking hot knowing that he just came thinking about fucking me.
