I ended up staying for overtime to help process the arrest, and Kevin brought over some takeout and met me at my house. It was a sweet gesture, but still, my mind was elsewhere. And the food was cold.
“You look like you have a lot on your mind tonight,” Kevin said, sliding his carton of noodles onto the coffee table.
We were curled up on the couch, both of us on either end, with a large gap of space between us. My pulse began to race, and I started bouncing my leg on the ball of my foot. I had a ton of crap on my mind, too many inappropriate thoughts about things that will never happen.
He raised his eyebrow and pointed at my fidgeting leg. “Stressed out? You want to talk about something?”
I let out a small laugh and shook my head. "I'm fine. Just a lot of pent-up energy." No, I'm lying, and I really just want to ask your opinion about another guy, another man who is married, and I can't even form the words to do it.
“Yeah?” he said, shifting closer to me. “I think I know what’ll help with that.”
My first instinct was to pull back. Kevin was nice, familiar even, but his eyes were too far apart, his hands were oddly tiny, and he started every sentence with the words basically or literally. His teeth were too straight and bright, like freaking dental high beams, and he played with his hair too much. He…he got manicures more often than I did, and he just wasn’t Dylan Sanborn.
I was so screwed.
Kevin's hand was already between my legs, caressing the inside of my thighs. All I had on were a pair of boy shorts and a tank top; easy access, I figured. Dinner and sex, it was Kevin, and I was Callie, and this is what we did. This was what I always did.
Kevin nudged my legs open wider and nuzzled a few kisses on my neck. “I’ve been told I’m good for stress relief.”
Yes. That’s right. Just stay in the moment and relax. But Dylan’s words whispered through my mind. “Hard not wanting to be the rest of your week.”
Kevin's fingers crawled higher and higher until they reached the crotch of my shorts and slid underneath.
More of Dylan’s words popped into my head. His words, his face, his touch.
Was this the way it was always going to be? Me pining after a man I had no right to think about? He belonged to someone else. I had to get over him. I had to stop thinking about what it would feel like to have Dylan here, with his fingers deep inside me and his lips on my skin.
Kevin unzipped his jeans, pulled himself out, and I just let him have me. He spun me around and folded me over the arm of the couch and drove into me over and over.
I was supposed to be enjoying it. But something was wrong.
It just felt like nothing.
I stared at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen. I had to squint to see the numbers. Did I need glasses?
Ten minutes passed. Kevin was pounding away behind me.
My ceiling was dusty. How was I supposed to get the dust? Do I vacuum it? I didn't think I had one of those attachments that reached that high.
Twenty minutes. almost…almost…almost…almost…nope, it’s gone. Wait. Was that a little twinge of something? Nope. False alarm.
Thirty minutes. Why was I still watching the clock?
“Are you close?” Kevin asked, out of breath behind me.
"Um." Be honest. He'll do something different. I was getting sore, and I needed some lube. “How about we move to the bed?” I asked. “I have some things in my nightstand I could use.”
He smacked my ass. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”
After we made it into the bedroom, we changed positions four more times. Nothing.
I needed to have the O. I’m going to die without it. Die.
Fifth position. I straddled him as he gripped onto the sheets. “Jesus, Callie. I can’t hold off too much longer.”
“The O is going to show up, okay? I need it. You just do exactly what you’re doing. Don’t cum, so help me God.”
His face scrunched up.
Did Dylan rob me of my ability to cum?
“Wait, lemme get a toy to help out.”
I pulled out a vibrator and kept riding...well, until he moaned loud, bucked twice and stopped.
I was broken.
My vagina was broken. No happy ending for me? I was more frustrated than before! No grand finale. It was like a horrible cliffhanger to a shitty book, but I needed to know what happened.
I went into the bathroom and cried.
Twice I’ve had sex since I met Dylan, and I can’t find my orgasm. I had to sit on the toilet and pour cool water over myself; I was so sore and sticky. I think this was the lowest point in my sexual life.
I lost my orgasm.
What’s the use ME OF HAVING A VAGINA? Only one use for me. All I could use it for now was peeing. Yay, me.
Poor Kevin had worked so hard, by the time I dried my tears and got out of the bathroom, he was passed out naked on my bed, snoring.
Damn it. I poked him. He snored louder.
I padded back out into the living room and heated up the food we left out on the table. My vagina was broken. I leaned back against the counter and zoned out until the microwaved beeped. There wasn’t enough wine in this house to help me cope without a happy vagina.
Well, I did have a guest. In my bed. Maybe he’ll wake up and be ready for another round? What difference would it make? I was tender as hell and dry as a desert. I climbed back into my bed with a pint of rice and the rest of the bottle of wine. The wine was gone faster than the rice.
I flicked on the television, and once again there I was on the news.
I didn't look hot. I seemed frustrated and single, and childless.
My phone buzzed. I leaned over and peeked at who it was.
Dylan.
Dylan: Saw you on the news.
Callie: Yeah, fun day.
Dylan: Why did that guy do that? What happened?
Callie: Shot 3 people. He did it because he’s a savage animal and doesn’t know the worth of life.
Dylan: And you were there?
Callie: Yeah. It’s my job.
Dylan: Were you in danger? Isn’t that dangerous? Did he have a gun when you found him?
Callie: Yes. Yes. And, yes.
Dylan: How did you get him to come out?
Callie: Showed him my boobs.
Dylan: WHAT?
Callie: Lol. We had the hostage negotiation team come down.
Dylan: Was it scary?
Callie: More scared there was a guy with a gun on the street. Lucky he didn’t hurt more people. What are you doing up?
Dylan: Ben was crying, and I saw your light on. What are you doing?
Callie: Staring at an asshole snoring in my bed. How’s your wife?
It took him fifteen minutes to respond.
Dylan: I don’t know.
Shit. I was a bitch.
Callie: Are you okay?
Dylan: No.
Callie: What’s not okay?
Dylan: You’re busy.
Callie: I’m not actually. I’m bored.
Dylan: I thought you had a naked man in your bed?
Callie: Yeah, lucky me. I’m still bored. What’s not okay?
Dylan: I don’t want this for the kids.
Callie: What are you thinking of doing?
Dylan: I don’t know. Guilt is killing me.
Callie: Guilt for what?
Dylan: I shouldn’t want to leave her when she’s down. She’s sick. If she had cancer, I wouldn't just leave.
Leave her? That’s not like him. I hit the call button and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” His voice was velvet, deep. I shivered and pulled the blankets up to my chin.
“It’s called love, Dylan. You love her. Remember, the person before the poison. She’ll find her way back—”
“It’s not,” he said roughly. “It’s not about love anymore. She’s not the person I married. It’s an obligation now. God forgive me, but it’s true.”
“You don’t need forgiveness, Dylan. You didn�
��t do anything wrong. You’re a good man,” I said softly.
“No, I'm not,” he argued in a huff.
“Stop. You’re doing everything you can to keep your family together. You are a good father and a good husband.”
“But all I’m thinking about is some other guy in your bed right now, and climbing up those stairs and hurting him.” He sighed heavily into the phone. “I’m so sorry.”
“Dylan,” I whispered. I didn’t know what else to say.
“I know. I know it’s wrong, okay? You just made things feel different. You made me see what a healthy family would look like. You made me want more. Damn it, Callie. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be saying this to you.”
Then the phone beeped off.
My heart was frantic in my chest. This...this wasn’t going to end well. I felt too much. I squeezed my eyes closed and shook Kevin awake. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to say the crap I was feeling—out loud—then I’d see how ludicrous it sounded. Kevin was a guy with the same hook up ideals as me. He'd be able to talk some sense into me.
Kevin opened his eyes, stunned. “What happened?”
"You fell asleep," I said, giggling.
I should get another bottle of wine so it could help me talk about this Dylan craziness with him. I finished off the bottle we had with the Chinese food all by myself while he napped.
Kevin rubbed his hands over his face and jumped out of bed. “Oh, snap. I’m sorry. I was…I should go. Lisa is going to flip out.”
I froze. All the blood drained from my face. I felt it. It pooled in my throat and made me want to scream.
“Lisa?”
He yanked up his pants and grinned at me. “You are never going to believe me when I tell you.”
“Try me,” I said, fisting the blankets.
“I have a girlfriend. Three months so far, and I’m crazy about her. I think this is the one I get serious with. She moved in last week.” He had the most idiotic smile on his face.
Stunned, I nodded and watched him dress. “That’s great.” He's getting serious with someone, but he just finished pulling his dick out of me. "Wait. Hold up. Then why did you ask me to meet up with you tonight?"
A lopsided smile spread across his face. “I always know you’re up for some fun. And you’re easy to be with. We’re not hurting anybody.”
“Easy to be with,” I said, slumping back onto my pillows.
“Ward, come on. Don’t make me feel like the bad guy here. You can’t blame me. You're a fun time. We’re nothing. With Lisa, it’s different.”
“Yeah, no, I understand.”
It’s nothing. At least I got the cold Chinese food to hang with while you go back and fall asleep next to your Lisa, who’s different.
He even had the audacity to kiss me on the lips before he left. I wouldn’t kiss him back, though. I left my lips tight in a straight line, but I didn’t think he noticed. Why would he? To him, I was nothing; just a fun time.
I walked him to the front door, feeling more off-centered than ever before. I didn't want a relationship with Kevin. That wasn't my issue. I wasn't jealous or anything, but I did feel…used. I felt dirty. He was going to go home to his girlfriend. Would he sleep with her? Would she smell me on him? Would he go right into the shower and wash me off? I knew I hadn't been anything special to him, or Vince, or any of the other guys—but I thought I was a little more than nothing. I was another human being with thoughts and feelings, wants and needs.
“See you around, Ward,” he said as he left.
He neither looked back nor waved at me. He simply drove away, to Lisa, who was different. Not broken like me.
I leaned against my open front door, staring out at the house across the street from me. Dylan watched me from inside his house. I saw him in the shadows of his living room, holding Ben on his shoulder.
Once again, my phone rang.
I let it ring and ring and ring.
I’ve been so stupid.
I believed all this time that I had everything under control—thought I was doing everything my own way—protecting myself. I held a tight reign over my heart and mind. I didn’t want to be hurt again. I never wanted to feel that kind of heartbreak ever again, so I chose to deny any form of love. Love only breaks you when it leaves. If you’re really unlucky, sometimes it breaks you even before it goes, devastating you twice as hard. My losses were so profound, I lost myself to them. I became nothing more than a lover without love and a mother without a child.
I never got over it—I’m not sure I ever will. People say time heals, but it still feels like it was yesterday and I was holding a still baby, wishing for someone to decide to love me again so I wouldn’t have to grieve alone.
My baby never took a breath, and now years later here I was, continuing to breathe, watching people live and go on when all I wanted was to give in, give up, meet up with her in heaven.
I closed my eyes briefly, the ghost of her weight still in my arms.
She was so tiny. So tiny and still.
She had died inside me. My body wasn’t strong enough, and I was in labor so long, my uterus started collapsing, my life draining out of me in the cold, sterile hospital room.
And I was so alone.
The nurses left me. Doctors. They tried to save us but could only save me. She wasn’t big enough. She wasn’t ready for this world.
They let me hold her in my trembling arms, barely able to see her perfection through my tears. I surrendered to it, them, becoming them, just a shell full of tears.
Unfortunately, my life went on.
And now I was standing on my porch, in the dead of night, reliving my nightmares, and I was still, years later, alone.
I took a deep, wavering breath. My phone was still ringing. It was me, hurting myself, again and again after. It was me this time, making sure everyone knew I was nothing before they found out themselves.
Tears hit my cheeks before I could stop them, tumbling down like rain. My phone slipped from my fingertips and clattered loudly on the ground.
“Why did you do that? Did he just leave you, or did you make him leave?” Dylan was a blur in front of me. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”
His hands burned through my flesh when he touched me.
I moved away, trying to wipe the tears from eyes. “I woke him up. He’s nothing to me. I didn’t want him here anyway.”
“Did you make him leave for me?”
“No,” I whispered. The palm of his hand was against my cheek, wet from my tears. “Dylan, don’t come here again. Make sure your wife is okay. I’ll take care of myself.”
I haven’t seen him in days.
Chapter 18
Dylan
Max slid a cold beer across the table toward me. "How are you holding up?" he asked, clinking his glass into mine.
He invited the kids and me over for dinner, and I sat back, watching as his wife, Laura, played with Ben and his daughters tried to teach Addison how to make some kind of a friendship bracelet.
“You want the truth?” I asked, sipping at my beer. The bottle was icy, stinging my fingertips.
His eyebrows hit his hairline. “If you’re willing to give it.”
I leaned forward and spoke low. I didn’t want Addison to overhear, “Without Sheri in the house, I feel like I can breathe.” My shoulders felt lighter just saying the words. “I don’t worry about going to work and something happening to the kids during the day.” I laughed darkly, shaking my head. “I have more trust in the strangers who work in that daycare center than I ever had in my wife.” It was a life-altering realization, an excruciating one.
He nodded, scrunching up his chin in deep thought. “How has she been taking to rehab?”
I shrugged and started picking at the label on the glass bottle. "I don't know. Her mother is the contact person, and Claudine keeps saying everything is great.”
Laura walked over and sat at the table with us. Ben dozed in his little bouncy chair, spent from a wild game
of peek-a-boo.
“You don’t trust your mother-in-law?” she asked quietly.
I shook my head and peeled a long, thin strand of the label off the bottle. “I don’t think I’ll ever trust that family again.” I rolled the wet sticker in my fingers thoughtlessly. "I don't know how I'm supposed to pretend as if none of this happened and let her back into our lives. I don’t want the paranoia anymore. I was in constant fear of her relapsing and overdosing.”
Her eyes darted to her husband’s, then back to mine. “It’s been a hard marriage the whole time?”
“For four years, Sheri’s addiction consumed every thought I had. All I did was wonder if she was okay, if the kids were okay.” I ran my hands over my face, puffing out a frustrated sigh. “I set up our life so that I would be the one doing everything—working, cleaning, cooking, watching the kids, everything—so nothing bad could happen. But in the end, I was just enabling her."
Max cleared his throat. “How is Addison handling it?”
“Addison hasn’t even asked about her mother." I shrugged and looked over to where she was playing. All the girls were giggling and stringing beads together. “Not even once. The only thing she’s concerned about is why Callie doesn’t come to play with her any longer. She misses her a lot.” We both did.
“Callie hasn’t been around?” Max asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. It’s been four whole days.
“Something happen between you two?” He stared at me for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, waiting for an answer.
“No, nothing,” I said quickly.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “But you wanted it to?”
“No,” I lied. “She’s just really busy.” He still looked skeptical.
If anything were to ever happen between me and Callie, it would have to be when and if my marriage was completely over. That, I knew she deserved.
She knew as well, we just never really spoke out loud about it. Every time we texted or spoke on the phone, no matter what the subject, Callie would always put me in my place by saying Sheri’s name or asking how she was. She would break off the conversations—raw conversations—filled with hurt and lust and everything we were involved in with fierce resolve.
Finding Love (Behind Blue Lines Book 3) Page 12
