Man Up Husband

by Danielle Sibarium

  He hasn't spoken, hasn't said a word or made a move, nothing more than holding my stare as if he'll die if he looks away. The need I feel pulsing between my legs has me convinced I'll die if he does.

  I squeeze my thighs together, hoping it will tamp down the longing I'm feeling there. I prepare myself to make the first move because I have to taste his lips and see if that fresh minty feeling I imagine his breath has is real or a figment of my imagination. And his chest. I stop myself from reaching out to touch it, curious if it's as rock hard as his close-fitting shirt makes it look.

  His front teeth sink in against his lush bottom lip as he glances between me and the control board of the elevator. I want to take that lip in my mouth and suck on it. I want to kiss him while running my hands over his chiseled chest and stomach, because there is no way in hell a piece of perfection like this isn't ripped with muscles.

  His eyebrow cocks up. He's making his move. This is no longer just fantasy, he's ready to take this to the next level.

  "Yes," my voice comes out hoarse and full of need.

  I'm answering his unspoken question, making sure he understands that I'm down for whatever he has running through his mind. He presses a button and the elevator doors close, but it doesn't move.

  Before I know what's happening, he's in front of me, against me. The spicy scent of his cologne floods my senses. His fingers thread through my hair as he backs me up against the wall. His tongue enters my mouth and he does taste as refreshing as I thought. My lips and mouth tingle. I'm weak in the knees.

  His tongue twirls against mine, then swipes over my lips. All I can think of is having that skilled tongue twirling then pumping in and out of a completely different part of my body. Shit. Kissing never left me wanting that before. But I do. I want it more than I've ever wanted any other physical contact.

  I want to feel him rub against me as he fills my body with every inch of him. OMG, this is going to happen!

  What surprises me most is how bad I want it to happen. I'm not the one-night-stand type of girl. I need love and all the other emotional shit that goes along with sex, but my heart is so shattered, I don't want to "love" ever again. I don't want to feel anything more than satisfaction from this unyielding ache he created.

  His hands on my ass are pulling me against him, hinting to me how deep he could fill me and proving that his desire for me is just as strong as I suspected. For the first time ever, I think I might get off just from the erotic thoughts running through my mind.

  He lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist. The elevator hasn't moved, and even if it does, I don't care if the doors open and everyone in the world sees me wrapped in his arms. I've already lost so much today, who cares if I lose my self-respect?

  He pulls his mouth a few inches from me, leans his forehead against mine, and speaks in a tone swathed with sexual desire. My ego gets the biggest boost of my life.

  "If we're going to do this, you need to know something. We'll fuck, and I promise to make it the best of your life." He strokes my cheek with his knuckles. "Think about it. If this is what happens when we kiss, imagine how you'll feel when I'm inside you. But you need to understand that's all it is, just fucking. I don't do the gooey, emotional crap." He stops and lets it sink in for a moment. The lump in his throat bobs as he swallows. "But I'd be full of shit if I didn't say I hope you say yes, because I don't remember the last time a girl made me ache to fuck her. And babe, you have me aching everywhere. Are you in?"

  "Oh. Hell. Yeah!"

  *

  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to bring that up." Cooper's voice brings me back to the here and now.

  I don't believe him. I think he meant to bring me right back to that moment when I let him in so that I'll remember how good it felt to do so. I think this is his subliminal way of convincing me to let him in again, only this time to do it emotionally.

  "It's fine."

  "I didn't mean to upset you." He gives my hand a squeeze, and this I do believe. He's much more upset that something's wrong with me than I ever thought he would be.

  He just doesn't realize there isn't anything he could say that would upset me more than I already am. But that memory triggers something deep inside of me, something I'm afraid to acknowledge just yet.

  "You didn't. I told you before, I had a lot of personal shit going on that day. I needed a distraction. That's all you were." It's true. He was a distraction. One hell of an amazing distraction.

  He nods and doesn't say anything more before pulling into the parking lot of a diner only minutes from my house and cutting the engine.

  "Let's go grab something to eat."

  I follow Cooper in. We don't speak as we wait to be seated. Both of us focus on the menus until we order. At least with the plastic booklet in my hands, I can hide behind it, use it as a barrier to keep Cooper at a distance. Once the order is complete, the waitress takes them from us, and I'm left feeling exposed. Vulnerable. As if she just took a layer of clothing off me.

  "Now talk."

  "I've got nothing to say."

  His eyes are dark, almost angry. "Cut the shit and tell me what the fuck is going on. What did you have done?"

  "A test."

  Cooper releases a frustrated breath. I get it, he thinks I'm skirting the issue. What he doesn't know is that my doctor is keeping me in the dark, too. He shakes his head as he pulls his phone from his pocket and slams it down on the table.

  "You have a choice. You can tell me, or you can tell Troy. Which is it going to be?"

  With my arms crossed in front of me on the table, I lean toward him, my eyes locked on his. "Fuck you. You walk around like you're entitled to things because you're Cooper fucking Sutton. You're not entitled to me. I don't have to answer to you."

  "Don't deflect."

  "I'm not. You're so frustrating. First you involve yourself where you have no business, and then you get mad because I'm not answering to you. News flash. I don't have to answer to you. I'm not your fucking wife."

  Totally unfazed by anything I said, Cooper presses his finger on a button, bringing his phone to life. It's like I'm not even speaking.

  "And then," I whisper shout, looking around to make sure I don't see any familiar faces. "And then you have to make reference to the one time I stepped out of my comfort zone and threw caution to the wind, to one of the worst days of my life."

  His eyes drop. "I'm sorry."

  "No, you're not. You remind me or Troy that we fucked every chance you get. Which I don't understand, because you made it perfectly clear that day, and every day after that I didn't hear from you, that that's all it was, fucking."

  Cooper doesn't bother to respond. Instead, he pulls up his contacts and presses on Troy's name, his finger hovering over the call button.

  "Are you going to tell me, or Troy?"

  My eyes water, and I hate him. I hate him so much right now. I hate him because he's forcing me to verbalize something I don't want to admit. "It was an MRI. Okay?"

  "Of?"

  "My brain, Cooper. There's something fucking wrong with my brain."

  Tears fill my eyes. I haven't said it aloud until now. Not to anyone. Saying the words makes it real. Makes it something I have to face. Something is wrong with my brain. It's fucking up my entire life. And Troy's. And my precious Mia's. I squeeze my eyes closed, wiping at the tears, trying to regain control. I look out the window to avoid looking at Cooper. If I see pity in his eyes, I think I'll punch him.

  "Did the doctor tell you what he's looking for?" His voice is softer than when he was threatening to call Troy a minute ago.

  As if on cue, my phone rings. I scramble to pull it out of my purse.

  "Hello."

  "Marlena, it's Dr. Cummings. How are you doing?"

  "Obviously not that well or else you wouldn't be calling me right now."

  "I have the results of the MRI." He doesn't even skirt around the issue or assure me that I am indeed fine. Head pounding, stomach
roiling, I think I'm going to be sick.

  I listen to Dr. Cummings release an exaggerated breath before he continues. "What we found are lesions on your brain."

  "Lesions? What does that mean?"

  "It means you have some scarring of the brain. If you've had severe headaches, which I know you have, that can be a cause of it," he pauses.

  "What else can cause it?"

  "In your case, the shape and location of the lesions along with your symptoms suggest you have multiple sclerosis."

  I'm numb as I let the words sink into my faulty brain. There is something wrong with me. It's real and has a name. And it's scaring the hell out of me. My brain really is failing me, just as my father's brain is failing him.

  My voice is still calm. My body is not racking with sobs, and yet the salty little droplets fall from my eyes. They keep falling, and I don't think they will ever stop.

  "What's the treatment? How do we stop it?"

  "That's just it, Marlena. There is no cure. We don't stop it. All we can do is slow it down and try to mitigate the damage. With treatment, some people go years without another flare up. But before we get to that, we need to schedule a lumbar puncture. An MRI alone can't confirm it's MS."

  My entire body trembles as I work at keeping up the appearance that I'm okay. I'm not grasping what he just said. It can't be. I'm too young to have something with no cure. He has to be wrong.

  "Let's set up the lumbar puncture. The sooner we get confirmation, the sooner we can start treatment and hopefully calm this flare up down some. Are there any days this month that you absolutely can't do?"

  "I need to make child care arrangements, but other than that, no. I guess not."

  This is all coming at me so fast, it's surreal. Is this what my life is going to be like now? Doctors, tests, and hospitals on a daily basis? There's no cure, but what the hell does that mean? Am I never going to feel better than I do right now? Because I'm not feeling all that great. In fact, I feel awful. I feel like I've been shoved into a meat grinder.

  "Okay, Marlena. I'll have Joanne make the arrangements and get back to you."

  I hang up and breathe through the pain in my chest and stomach. It's an all-encompassing pain that makes me forget about the pounding in my head. Strong arms wrap around my shoulders. He rests my head against his chest. I don't fight or push him away. I need to feel something. Anything. Why is it always when I'm at my lowest of lows that I find myself in Cooper Sutton's arms?

  Chapter 9

  Troy

  "So the ROI of this project . . ."

  Tuning my manager out, I pull my phone out of my pocket, keeping it under the table and check again to see if Marlena answered any of my earlier texts. Nothing. Shit. Now I'm starting to worry. I put it away and try to jump back into the meeting by mentally filling in the blanks of what I missed. We've gone over this proposal three times before this presentation, so I'm more than familiar with Jacqueline's talking points.

  I'm so preoccupied wondering if Marlena's purposely ignoring me, I don't realize the speed at which the conference room has emptied. Not until Jacqueline stands in front of me and clears her throat.

  "Great job putting all that together. I think the budget is going to be approved."

  "Thanks. You did a great job selling it. They were hanging on to your every word."

  "Yes, they were. Everyone seemed fully engaged. Everyone but you."

  Shit. She noticed.

  "Sorry. I saw how well it was going and I guess I got a little distracted."

  "Troy, when you're here, especially in a meeting like this, you're mine. I need you on your toes. Whatever you have going on in your personal life can wait. Got it?"

  "Won't happen again."

  "Good." She pauses a moment. "There is something else I'd like to discuss with you. I've been very impressed with your productivity since I've taken over." She extends her hand and rubs it along my forearm. The action jars me because I've never seen this touchy-feely side of her. "Looking through your HR file, I can see your performance here has never been better."

  Something about the smile spread across Jacqueline's face makes me uneasy. She's not usually this friendly when making a point. I got it. Keep my head on my work.

  "What do you say we go have a drink after work and discuss a new opportunity and how it will affect your career path?"

  "I don't have time tonight." I say as I close my laptop. "I have plans after work."

  I don't mention that those plans are nothing more than having dinner at home and spending time with my wife.

  "Fine. Tomorrow then. You have notice, so clear your schedule."

  "Sure thing." I smile and head back to my desk.

  I don't know what just happened, but it leaves me with a weird vibe. I've never been "ordered" to go for a drink with her, and I'm not relishing the idea. I sit down and look back over my shoulder to make sure no one, especially Jacqueline, is looking as I pull my phone out again.

  Me: Marlena, I'm worried. Please get back to me.

  Five minutes pass, Nothing. I send another message.

  Me: I miss you.

  Another few minutes tick by. Still nothing.

  Me: I love you.

  Another half an hour before I can pack up and leave for home. I keep my phone on my desk as I work. If she does respond, I don't want to miss it. Each message goes unanswered. I scan my recent memory to think if I did something to piss her off. Why else would she just ignore me? Nothing comes to mind. Remembering how she shuddered underneath me last night, how I held her against me until she fell asleep in my arms, I'm certain things between us are fine.

  *

  I leave my fifth voicemail for Marlena to call me. Fear has given way to anger. I'm fucking pissed. She's ignored me all day, and I want to know why. Even when we argue, she picks up when I call. If something happened to Mia and she didn't call me, I'll lose my fucking mind. All I want to know is that they're okay.

  My phone chimes. I don't care that I'm driving, I'm in a semi-panicked state and need to see what the hell is going on. It's not Marlena. It's my friend Derek. We used to take the train into the city together. Since I started working in Jersey, I hardly ever see him. We've done the couple thing a few times with Marlena and his girlfriend, but not recently. Not since Mia was born. Another thing I need to be conscientious enough to plan, a couples' night. A night out alone with friends. Alone as in no Mia.

  I don't want to be distracted while driving. I'll read it later, after I get home. My phone chimes again. I glance over, checking again to see if it's Marlena. It's not. It's from Derek. This time he sent an image. My eyes are glued to it, and I can't pull them away.

  A horn blares, drawing my attention back to the road. I can't blame the guy for beeping, I did swerve into his lane. Still, I want to punch his fucking lights out. I want to pretend he's Cooper Sutton and whale on his face until it's unrecognizable and then slice his throat open.

  Shaking with fury, I pull over to the side of the road and read the messages.

  Derek: Are things okay with you and Marlena? She's looking a little too close for comfort with some dirtbag.

  Derek: Please tell me he's her brother. Want me to do something?

  Cooper's holding Marlena, kissing the top of her head. She's fisting his shirt. I can't believe what I'm seeing. It's wrenching my heart. Every muscle in my body is taut and shaking with anger. The image comes to life in my mind. I see their bodies moving, my wife straddling my once friend. Their hands reaching, touching, groping; lips kissing, clashing, sucking. It's killing me. I can't fucking breathe. My head is about to explode.

  I fucking knew it. All along I knew they were fucking, but I allowed her to pull the wool over my eyes. I slam my fist down on the wheel. Fuckhead knows what Marlena means to me. She owns my heart. She owns every fucking part of me.

  I'm not sure I can control the rage and fury bubbling up inside of me. I can't see her, can't confront that lying slut until I release some of it. Until I
release enough of it to trust myself to be in the same room without physically hurting her. I've never struck a woman, I'm not about to let Cooper and Marlena drag me down into the gutter with them. I won't allow myself to sink to that level.

  I'm not going home. I don't know if I'll ever go back to the house we share. The house that up until a minute ago, I thought we were happy in. I don't know if I can.

  Shit, now it makes sense. That's why he knows every fucking thing about her. How to get her to respond to me; what she wants sexually; that she's pregnant. And that's why she hasn't said anything to me. She doesn't want me to know. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

  Is it Cooper's fucking baby?

  My anger grows exponentially as my mind races. How long has this been going on? From the beginning? After I introduced them, he made it perfectly clear he didn't want me with Marlena. She lied for over a month, never letting on that she knew him, let alone that they'd been together. She only admitted it when I called her out on it. Is it because they never stopped fucking?

  I'm driving faster than I should, weaving between cars. I need to get to Cooper's. I need to get to the bottom of this and fuck him and his life up the way he fucked up mine.

  Chapter 10

  Marlena

  "I really should pick Mia up," I say as Cooper walks me to my door. "It's not right to leave her with Selene for all this time."

  "She's fine, and trust me, Selene is enjoying having a little girl around. I wouldn't be surprised if tonight she tells me she wants to start trying for one of our own."

  "You better not fuck up," I say, opening the door that leads from the garage to the kitchen. "I really like her."

  "Me too." He smiles. "And for the record, I have no intention of hurting her, or anyone else, ever again."