Torrid Affair

by Callie Anderson

  It was Sunday afternoon, and I’d just finished the graveyard shift at the diner, along with an additional morning shift for a co-worker who called in sick. My body ached from the long hours I’d spent on my feet, I had a pounding headache, and the odor of burnt coffee followed me like a cloud of smoke.

  I dragged my body up the garage steps as I mentally assured myself I was inching closer to my bed. I was surprised to find the door ajar, and when I pushed it open, Julian was standing with his back to me, hunched over at the kitchen counter.

  “Hey,” I said. I craved a long shower and sleep. He didn’t utter a word so I stepped closer. “Julian?” I rested a hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed under my touch. “Hey, what's the matter?”

  “You have the nerve to ask?” He dragged his words out in a slow slur.

  “I have no clue what you're talking about.”

  With a sharp turn he spun around, and the back of his hand collided with my face. “You came here!” he barked, and I smelled the bourbon on his breath. I couldn’t speak. Sharp pain caused my skin to burn. “We were happy in Chicago. I was somebody there. I had respect. Here, I’m a fucking nobody.”

  The metallic tinge lingered in my mouth. The motherfucker had drawn blood. Anger boiled deep inside me. He would never fucking change.

  “Goddamn it.” My finger dabbed at the cut on my lower lip. My cheeks burned, but by now I was used to the pain. It was sad to believe that it didn't hurt as bad as it once did, but if you became their punching bag, eventually you became numb to the pain.

  I was pathetic.

  “Get out,” I whispered under my breath.

  “You can't tell me what to do. This isn't your home. Remember, you ran to my brother for safety.” His eyes locked with mine.

  I’d never confronted him before. For years I took his abuse and ran away crying until he eventually apologized. But enough was enough.

  “I swear to fucking God, Julian, get out.”

  He scoffed. “Or what?”

  “I'll fucking scream. I’ll scream bloody murder, and everyone will know what you do to your wife!”

  He huffed. “Fine. I need pussy anyway. You're a lousy lay.”

  I held my head high, straightened my shoulders, and not until I heard the door slam behind me did I crumple and cry.

  How much longer could I continue to live like this?

  Nate

  The house was empty Sunday afternoon. After a round of golf with a few coworkers, I came home to find a note on the dining room table.

  Having lunch with my mom and Caleb. Will be home soon. D

  Though Delaney's father never cared for what I did to his daughter, her mother had reached out a few years back and rekindled their relationship. I guessed the grudge she was holding for her only daughter began to eat away at her.

  Delaney and I never asked her parents for a single cent. I remembered when she called her mother to tell her about the baby, and Caroline insisted that she'd wire the money to take care of the situation. But there was no way in hell I would let that happen. I made a promise to Delaney that I’d take care of her, and shortly after we found out about her pregnancy, I made an honest woman of her—even though my heart belonged to someone else.

  I tossed the note in the trash and pulled the refrigerator door opened. Starved, I made a sandwich and turned the kitchen TV on to ESPN. I was mid-bite when I spotted Brielle's car rolling up the driveway. She looked gorgeous in her yellow diner outfit. Her hair was tossed up over her head, and a pencil held it all together. She parked the sedan and trudged toward the apartment. There were nights I hoped we’d bump into each other alone. I wanted to hold her. Tell her that I still, despite everything, loved her, but she didn’t even glance in the direction of my house. Her head hung low, and with a few short strides, she was gone.

  Shaking my head, I turned back to the television. A few minutes passed and I got lost in the commentary of the upcoming NBA championship game. Then I noticed Julian out the window. His fists were balled at his sides, his eyebrows pinched together. He stomped over to their car and tried unsuccessfully to yank the door open.

  “Fuck!” He cursed as he slammed his palm on the hood. His mouth moved, and I knew he was saying a few more choice words. He glanced back at the apartment and then stalked down the driveway. Clearly, he was pissed.

  I should have stayed put, but Brielle had driven all the way here for help with Julian, so when she didn’t come after him, I decided to go see her.

  First I paced the kitchen debating what to say, but after I cleaned up my lunch, I knew there wasn’t any other option but to see how she was. I took the steps two at a time. Leaning my ear to the door, I listened for any movement before I knocked. A few seconds passed before the door handle turned and she opened the door.

  “Hey—

  The smile I had plastered on my face to greet her vanished when I looked at her face. Not only was she crying, but her cheek was bruised and a small cut split her lower lip.

  A nervous hand rushed to her face. “It’s nothing.”

  “Don’t make excuses for him.” I walked through the door and framed her face. Anger, regret and pain coursed through my body. “How long has this been going on?”

  Brielle closed her eyes as her head shook slowly.

  “Answer me.”

  Her voice was hoarse. “A few years.”

  Years?

  Fucking years?

  He’d been hitting her for years.

  My breath came out in spurts as I tried to calm myself. Clearing my throat, I counted back from ten before I opened my mouth to speak. But when I did, my thoughts were halted by Julian’s voice outside. Infused with rage, I shook my head at Brielle and headed down the stairs.

  When I was a kid, I fought Julian’s fights because he was a scrawny kid. I protected him from bullies. But never did I imagine that he’d become the bully.

  “What are you doing?” I heard Brielle’s frantic voice directly behind me. “Confronting him.”

  “Nate, don’t. Please!”

  Shocked, I turned to face her. She stood a few inches above me, and I could look her square in the eyes. “He’s hitting you, and you want me to stop?”

  Brielle hesitated a moment before she answered. “It’s complicated. He’s drunk.”

  “Fuck this.” I ignored her request and jetted down the remainder of the stairs.

  Julian was outside, his hand lodged on the car door as he tried to pry it open.

  “Julian,” I called out to him. He spun around and stumbled. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Delaney’s car pull in the driveway.

  Julian’s gaze left mine and looked behind me to Brielle. “Well, look who it is. My wife, the lousiest pussy I’ve ever had. I left everything for you, you cock tease! For months, I was your sick puppy. You dangled your vagina in front of me like it was filet mignon. In reality, you’re nothing more than chuck meat.”

  My hand drew back, and with one swift motion, my fist collided with Julian’s jaw. “You want to hit someone, you pick on someone your own size,” I growled.

  His body fell to the ground, but he pushed himself back up and darted in my direction. His arms went around my waist, and he slammed me to the ground.

  “No!” I heard Brielle crying as the air was shoved out of my lungs.

  “Stop it!” Delaney cried, but Julian and I continued to wrestle. I took a few punches to my ribs, but I returned them with a few body shots. “Goddamn it, Nate, your son is watching!” Delaney’s voice screeched.

  I wanted to defend Brielle, but I didn’t want Caleb to see such rage in his father. Shoving Julian off my body, I stood. Without another word, I marched toward my house and didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I was too afraid that if I didn’t walk away when I did, I might have killed him for laying his hands on her.

  I slammed the sliding door shut. “Fuck!”

  It was my fault.

  It was my fault she was with him.

  Chapter 27

/>   Brielle

  Julian slept on the couch after his argument with Nate. Delaney asked me what was going on, but when she saw my face, she knew. She had a few choice words for Julian, who told her to fuck off before he took off down the street. Once he was out of sight, she asked if I wanted to take a ride with her and Caleb to get ice cream. I apologized for Julian and told her I was too exhausted to move. Once I was upstairs, I rushed to my phone and sent Nate a text message. I’d had the same number for ten years, and he was still stored in there as Nicole.

  Me: Thank you.

  It was the only thing I could say.

  He didn’t respond. I was positive his number was still the same, as I’d compared it to Julian’s phone many times in the past. It wasn’t until the following day I heard from him.

  I woke up to a painfully bruised cheek. Well, a re-bruised cheek as the purple and blue marks from the previous blow were only beginning to fade away. Julian snored peacefully on the couch while I got ready for work.

  It had rained most of the morning and gray skies lingered above. My mood worsened when I screwed up a regular’s order. Bart had been coming to the diner for lunch for the past fifteen years. Every Monday he ordered the meatloaf special, but my mind was lost in the fight between Julian and Nate and I switched his order with someone else’s.

  Most southern men were polite. Bart wasn’t.

  “How stupid do you have to be?” He shoved his plate in front of him. “For fifteen years I’ve been coming to this damn joint.”

  I’m so very sorry.” I reached for the plate. “I’ll get your meatloaf right out.”

  “I’ve been waiting for the past twenty minutes. Do you think it will be right out? Do you? How stupid are you?”

  I bowed my head, embarrassed that most of the other customers were staring in my direction. “I’m very sorry, sir.” I cleared my throat. “Your lunch will be on me.” I hoped that offered him some solace.

  “I don’t understand.” He pushed off the chair and stood. “I’ve been ordering the same thing since God knows when. Your job is so mindless an imbecile could do it.”

  Tears began to drip out of my eyes. I had nothing left in me to fight anyone else.

  “Enough!” Nate’s voice was stern and loud behind me. “She’s apologized, sir, and it was an accident. Now either wait the twenty minutes for a new one or get out.”

  The diner was silent. All eyes were on us. Bart muttered a few more words before he sat back down.

  “Are you okay?” Nate asked.

  I shook my head and ran toward the back exit. Star Diner backed up to a small stream and wooded area. It was the place most employees used for a quick break.

  I’d wanted something different when I came here. A chance for Julian to get the help he needed. I wanted to be happy. Instead, I was screwing everything up. And Nate always seemed to come to my rescue, which only made it more painful. Kneeling on the grass, I let a soft sob escape me. Black drops appeared on my skirt from my mascara. I scooped a bit of water from the stream and ran my fingers under my eyes. I heard footsteps approaching.

  “Are you okay?” Nate asked

  I cleared my throat before I answered. “Yes.”

  He sat beside me. He didn’t seem to care that the grass would ruin his navy suit. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” I shook my head.

  “Brielle.” He said my name softly.

  “Nathaniel,” I retorted.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “You seem different.”

  Shaking my head, I disagreed with him. “I'm not different. I'm the same person I've always been.”

  “How can you love him?” His voice was low. “How can you love a man who puts his hands on you?”

  I bowed my head and closed my eyes. I had so much to say, but it wasn’t the time. That’s how things worked between Nate and me. We were never in the same time zone. “He wasn't always this bad.” My voice was barely a whisper but I knew he heard me. “I fell in love with Julian when he was there to pick up the fragmented parts of my heart that you left behind. You destroyed me.”

  Nate hissed under his breath. The truth hurt us both.

  “The relationship I have with him is unconventional, and it's not healthy in any sense of the word. But when I needed him the most, when I needed someone to hold me up, someone to anchor me, he was there to pick up the pieces.” I shook my head and looked over at him as anger began to sink in. “So, the way I love him, and the reason I stay, is none of your concern.”

  “Brielle . . .” Nate reached out his hand and tried to console me.

  “No!” I swatted his hand away and stood. “You don't get to be the hero in my life anymore.” Nate rose and met my stance. Angrily, I wiped the tears from my eyes. I needed to stay mad at him. If not, everything would crumble because I was only holding on by a thin thread.

  “I came here because I need help getting your brother the help he needs. I'm not here as your charity case. I don't need you to defend me. So take your pitiful eyes and look at someone else because I'm fine. Julian and I are fine.”

  I couldn't let him know the truth. That I was stuck in a loveless marriage. That when I needed him the most, Julian was the one person I could rely on, and that was a debt I could never repay.

  That’s why I stayed.

  “That’s no way to live,” Nate whispered.

  “I stopped living ten years ago.” I moved around him.

  Nate’s hand gripped my elbow. “Wait.” He turned me back toward him. His free hand gently ran across my bruised cheek. I looked deep into his eyes and, for the first time in ten years, I let myself feel.

  “You’ve never been a charity case.” His voice was low and husky. “You have been, and will always be, the woman I love.”

  I shook my head. We were dancing around a line that we were forbidden to cross. “I don’t think your wife would like that very much.” I reminded us both of the parties involved. “I have to get going.” I tugged my arm free.

  Without another word, I turned and ran inside the diner to collect my things. My heart raced a million miles a minute, but I couldn’t let my feelings cloud my judgment. Nate was married, he had a family, and I had Julian.

  I clocked out an hour early from work. The lunch rush had passed, and there was plenty of staff to cover. Fran understood that Bart’s yelling had taken a toll on me and she allowed me to go home.

  Nate's car was nowhere in sight when I walked out of the diner. I didn’t want to go home and see him or Julian, so I took a detour and drove for an hour before I pulled into Norman State Park. Not much had changed since the last time I was there. A few new signs with the park information, the bushes were trimmed, and some trees were bigger than the last time. I parked my car in the usual spot and went to sit by the lake.

  The grass was green, the trees were in full bloom, and a breeze blew in off the lake. It was a peaceful afternoon, but my mind ran all over the place. How did I let my life get this crazy? How, after so many years, could I still love Nate?

  I was tired of crying. Tired of being the victim. I was exhausted.

  Drained.

  The person I was ten years ago would look at me and laugh. I always swore I never wanted to be like my mother. That I would let no man control me.

  I dug into my purse and pulled out my phone. I needed Yve to make me laugh. The phone rang twice before she answered.

  “Good morning, sugar tits.” Her voice echoed through the small speaker on my phone.

  I sighed and lay back on the grass. The warm sun made my skin tingle. “Hey, Yve.”

  “Aw, shit. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” I tried to sound cheerful but failed miserably.

  “Brielle, I know when you're full of shit. So, you can tell me what's going on, or I can get on a plane and go kick some major fucking southern ass.”

  I chuckled. Speaking to Yve was better than any therapist. “I don't know where to start.”<
br />
  “Did you sleep with Nate?”

  “No!”

  “Are you debating whether you should sleep with Nate?”

  “No.” I paused. The thought had crossed my mind, but I was still very angry with him. “I’m ignoring Nate.”

  “Then, what?”

  I filled my lungs and blurted out everything. “Julian backhanded me, Nate found me crying and knocked out Julian, and Delaney saw her husband defend me.”

  “Oh, babe . . .”

  “Then today a customer yelled at me, and Nate defended me again, and I feel as though nothing is going the way it’s supposed to.”

  “Okay. First, when are you going to leave the fucking asshole? You know he doesn’t deserve you. And of course Nate is going to defend you. Anyone who sees what Julian is doing to you will come to your rescue. You know you deserve more, babe.”

  “Sometimes I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  “You need to fight back. You went there so things could get better. And if you’re going to live thousands of miles away from me, I want you to be happy.”

  “You’re right.” I sighed.

  “Damn skippy, I’m right.”

  “I love you, Yve.”

  “I know, because I’m freaking awesome.”

  I laughed. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you?”

  She grunted. “Nothing. I was on the brink of an orgasm when you called.”

  My hand slapped across my forehead. “What . . . Are you . . . Are you having sex right now?”

  “Sure am.” I heard the unmistakable slap of a palm across flesh. “Steve here was just listening to my religious prayers.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “I’m letting you go.” I hung up the phone. Who the hell was Steve, and what happened to Ryan?

  A few minutes had passed and my gaze was focused on the white fluffy clouds above when light footfalls ran past me.

  “Hey, Aunt Brie!” Caleb shouted as he zipped past me with a fishing pole in his hand. I pushed off the sand and rested on my elbows.