Part-Time Husband

by Noelle Adams

  That’s all it says.

  The aching ball of pain in my chest that’s been growing every morning for the past week suddenly explodes as I read the little note.

  I burst into tears.

  I’m not talking about some shaking shoulders and a few tears leaking out. I’m full-out bawling for the first time in years.

  In years.

  The first sob rips through me painfully, buckling my knees. As more sobs rise up, I’m knocked off my feet completely. I end up on the floor of the kitchen, crying in loud, messy spasms, clutching the note in one hand.

  Trevor finds me there a few minutes later.

  I’m barely aware of him coming into the apartment, although I can smell him as he approaches. He smells like effort, like sunshine, like Trevor, and it makes me cry even more.

  “Fuck, Melissa,” he breathes when he hurries into the kitchen. “Fuck, what’s the matter? What’s happened?”

  He’s asking me what happened.

  He’s actually asking me what happened.

  He happened.

  Trevor Bentley happened to me, and nothing has been the same since.

  A little flicker of consciousness tells me I should stop crying. I’m a humiliating mess, bawling on the floor of the kitchen this way. But I can’t stop.

  Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.

  He’s taken four strides over and lowered himself onto the floor beside me. I can’t even see his face through my tears. His voice is hoarse with what sounds like deep concern as he wraps me in his arms and pulls me against him. “Sweet Jesus, baby, you’re scaring me. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

  I sob helplessly into his shirt. It smells like he’s been outside. Probably fishing with his parents.

  He let me come with them one Saturday.

  “Melissa, please.” He’s holding me tightly with one arm, stroking my back with the other. “Please tell me—”

  He breaks off the words, and I don’t know why.

  Then he draws back slightly and reaches for my hand. He gently pries my fingers off the note. He gazes down at the crumpled piece of paper. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You’re crying over this?”

  I shake and whimper and hiccup a few times.

  “But...” He’s sitting on the floor beside me, leaning against a cabinet, his legs bent slightly at the knee. He looks dazedly between the note and my face. “But you said you’d never cry about me,” he rasps. “You said I wasn’t important enough to you to cry about.”

  Words finally come bursting through the sobs in my throat. “And you believed me? Of course I’m crying over you! You stupid, clueless asshole. You did this to me! I had a perfectly decent life, and I was holding it all together just fine. Then you came along with your smirk and your obnoxious eyebrow and your body that makes me feel so many things and your... your heart. And you knocked my life down like a bulldozer!” I’m crying and letting him have it at the same time. “You knocked it all down, and then you built it back up. You made me trust you. You made me need you. And then you made me... love you. Then you took it all away!”

  Something strange is happening to his face. Something deep and shattering. Something breathtaking. When I start sobbing again after the last word, he makes a choked sound and pulls me back into his arms.

  “No, no, no, baby. I didn’t take it away from you. I’m never going to take it away from you. Jesus, I can’t believe you... Is this really... Fuck, baby, it’s all still yours. I’m still yours. I’m always going to be yours.”

  I’m strangling on my sobs now, burying my face against his shoulder. But I hear what he’s mumbling out to me as he keeps tightening his arms, as he keeps rocking us both.

  It’s so much what I want to hear from him that I’m afraid I’m imagining it.

  After a minute, he says, “Fuck, Melissa, I’m dying here. Do you think you might be able to stop crying for a minute?” He tilts his head down to nuzzle my hair. “You can cry all you want later. I promise you can. But something is happening right now that’s blowing my world apart too. And I need... I need to know if I’m understanding it right.”

  He sounds earnest, needy, almost desperate. Completely unlike the Trevor I used to think he was.

  It takes me a minute, but my sobbing finally fades out to an occasional shake and sniff. I’m still leaning fully against him. He’s still holding me close.

  He combs his fingers through my hair and murmurs, “That’s right. There you go. Thank you” as I grow quiet.

  When I lift my head from his shoulder, he gives me an ironic, self-deprecating look. “Maybe we can go sit on the couch. I’ve had a really hard week, and then we had sex against the wall yesterday. And my back is killing me on the floor like this.”

  I giggle wetly.

  He winces as he stands up, and then he reaches down to help me rise too. We move to the couch, and he pulls me into the crook his arm as soon as we sit down.

  I exhale and press my cheek against his chest. I don’t want to be anywhere else. Just right here. Right here for the rest of my life.

  He kisses the side of my head. “Will you please let me say how sorry I am about Sunday night? I didn’t mean it. I was just so... stretched that night. The thing with my parents, and I was feeling so vulnerable with you. I’m not used to it, and I didn’t get my internal defenses back up. I’m always so angry with Pop for how he treats you. I just snapped. I wanted to hurt him, so I said the worst thing I could think of. It was wrong. It was so wrong. I should have controlled myself with Pop. And I never should have said anything like that. About anyone. Least of all you.”

  The words ring true to me. I believe him.

  I’ve somehow always known I would.

  I’m still leaning against him, so I’m not looking in his eyes. It’s easier to admit the truth this way. “I thought it meant that you don’t really care about me. That you really just think I’m an object to be controlled. I... couldn’t live with that.”

  “I know that. You think I don’t know what I did to you? You were just starting to open up. You were just starting to trust me. I’ve worked so hard for so long to get you to... to let me in, and then I completely destroy it in one weak, stupid moment. I’m so sorry about that, baby.”

  I sniff and nod. “But it’s my fault too.”

  “No, it’s not. This is all on me.”

  “It’s really not. You did mess up, but it wouldn’t have... it wouldn’t have ruined everything if I hadn’t already been on the edge. I’ve never really done a relationship before. I’m not used to... to depending on someone else.”

  “I know that. That’s why I should have done better. You were trusting me. It was... so special to me that I was the one you finally let in. And I let you down. I’m not going to do it again.”

  “Yes, you will,” I murmur. I feel him stiffen, so I go on. “Hopefully not much, but occasionally. And I’ll let you down too. But the thing I’ve finally figured out is... I want to trust you.”

  “You can. I promise you can. I know I blew it. I worked for months to make you trust me. I thought I’d messed up that day you came to the lake. I thought I’d moved too fast and you got spooked. So I went back to moving slowly. I worked to make it happen the first time, and I’ll work for however more months it takes until you can trust me again. I’m not giving up. I’m not letting you go. I’ll work at it for the rest of my life if I have to. One day you’re going to trust me again.”

  I give a silly little giggle.

  His hand grows still on my hair. “You’re laughing at me? Really? I’m spilling out my heart here.”

  I straighten up so I can kiss the side of his mouth. “I know you are. I can’t believe it’s really happening. But I’m laughing because when I say I want to trust you, I don’t mean I can’t do it anymore. I mean I can. I want to trust you, so I will. I know I can do it now. My problem before was I was always holding back, waiting for it to be safe. I’m not waiting anymore.”

  He gazes at me
for a moment, and then his face twists briefly. He takes my head in both his hands and kisses me. Deep. Passionate. Slightly clumsy.

  It’s beautiful.

  It’s a minute or two before Trevor tears his mouth away from mine. He’s panting, and his eyes are blazing with something I recognize. Something I’m feeling too.

  Something like joy.

  “So just to make sure I have this right,” he says, “you love me? That’s right, isn’t it?”

  A ripple of excitement runs through me. “Um, yeah. It’s right. I do. I love you.”

  He groans and pulls me into a hard hug. “Jesus, baby, I love you too.”

  WE SIT ON THE COUCH, talking and kissing and trying to recover for a long time. Eventually I have to get up to go pee, and when I return Trevor is on the phone.

  He gives me a sheepish look, like he’s slightly embarrassed. I stand and listen to his side of the conversation.

  He’s saying, “Yes. ... Yes, you were right. It’s all good now. ... Yes, I’m sure it was the flowers that did the trick. You were right about them. ... I told you it’s all good. ... Yes, we worked it all out. ... Yes, I’m sure she’ll want to come to the lake with us next week. ... No, I’m not going to be an emotional wreck anymore. ... No, I don’t think we’ll come to dinner tonight. Maybe soon though. ... Okay, okay. Yes, you were right. ... Okay, seriously, Mom, Melissa is standing right here. I need to hang up now. ... Yes, I know. I’ll tell her that. ... I promise. ... I love you too. ... Okay, bye, Mom. Say bye to Dad too.”

  He groans as he disconnects the call, and I’m laughing as I walk over and lower myself to the couch beside him. “So your mom thought of the flowers today?”

  “Yeah. I was... Well, my folks knew I was a mess today. They were worried and wouldn’t leave me alone about it. My mom kept saying that I was the one who needed to step up. I kept telling her I’d been trying, but she thought I wasn’t doing enough. So she wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to get you flowers.”

  “How on earth did you get them delivered like that within a couple of hours?”

  “They weren’t delivered. I went to the market and bought them and wrote the note. Then I stayed downstairs and asked Chuck to bring them up to you.”

  I smile. “No wonder he looked so secretly pleased when he came up. He knew you were waiting downstairs.”

  “Yeah.” He groans and stretches. “Fuck, I feel like I’ve been through a war. Almost losing the love of your life really takes it out of a man.”

  “Well, maybe you should rest then.”

  “I don’t want to get up.”

  “Then rest right here. I’ll rest with you.”

  He slants me a slightly suspicious look. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You think I’m not exhausted too? I just cried for like a half hour, and I haven’t cried in years. Lie down, and I’ll lie down with you. Maybe we can sleep.”

  He stretches out on the couch and draws me down so I’m pressed snugly against the length of his body. “Maybe we can do something else too.”

  “Sleep first. Then sex. I’m too exhausted right now to get naked.”

  He kisses me softly and then relaxes his arms around me. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

  We lay in contented silence for a few minutes until I remember something. “What did you promise your mom you’d tell me?”

  “Oh. She wanted me to tell you that...” He hesitates before he concludes, “That she loves you too.”

  I freeze for just a moment.

  “Shit,” Trevor says. “Did it creep you out? She’s just like that. You know. She doesn’t—”

  “It didn’t creep me out. It’s... it’s really sweet.” I sniff a little.

  “You’re not going to start crying again, are you?”

  “Of course not.” I slide my palm up and down his side, loving the feel of his lean, firm body. “She seems like a great mom.”

  “She is. Both my mom and dad are. I’ll be happy to share them with you.”

  “Thank you.” I’m smiling as I close my eyes and relax again.

  I’m ready to drift off to sleep when Trevor murmurs thickly, “Just so you know, I’m not going to mess up again.”

  “What?”

  “You said I’d probably mess up again, let you down again, because everyone always does sometimes. I’m not perfect, but I’m also not everyone else. I’m not going to let you down again. I think I can do it.”

  A ripple of laughter breaks out and spills over. I shake helplessly and clench one of my hands in his shirt.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because! You’re the smuggest man in the world, Trevor Bentley! You really think you’re so good that you’re not going to occasionally slip up in a relationship and have to apologize again.”

  He chuckles too. “I’m going to try not to.”

  “That’s good. I’m going to try too. But I guarantee I’m going to mess up again, and so will you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Arrogant.”

  “Confident.”

  “Obnoxiously smug.”

  “But you wouldn’t want me any other way, would you?” He’s teasing, but I can also tell that he really wants me to answer.

  So I do. “No. I love you, Trevor Bentley. Smugness and all.”

  THAT EVENING, TREVOR takes a bath with me. I settle between his legs, leaning back against him. It’s so intimate, so indulgent, and for the first time that doesn’t feel like a dangerous risk.

  I recline against him, and he’s stroking my body with one of his hands. Just lightly. Almost idly. Like it’s just a thing to do rather than an action with a specific purpose.

  After napping that afternoon, we ate an early dinner and drank a whole bottle of wine, so I’m feeling full and fuzzy and relaxed. The water is hot and deep. And Trevor is touching me everywhere.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes before I say, “Trevor?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “That first night we had sex...”

  “I remember.”

  “You said you’d wanted to have sex with me for a while. You said at least as long as we’d been married.”

  “Yes.”

  “Does that mean you wanted to have sex with me even before we got married?”

  He chuckles and nuzzles the side of my head. “What made you think of that?”

  “I’m thinking of everything. Trying to interpret our whole relationship in light of the fact that you love me.”

  “Ah.”

  “So?”

  “Yes, I wanted to have sex with you before we got married.”

  “Since when? We didn’t really know each other very well before we got married.”

  “I know that. I want to have sex with you a lot more now than I did back then. But, honestly, the very first time I saw you, at that interview with Pop, I remember thinking, I’m going to take that woman to bed.”

  I gasp. “You did not!”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And it wasn’t only that you wanted to? You just assumed you would eventually?”

  He’s still laughing softly, his body shaking behind mine. “It wasn’t an assumption. It was this bone-deep biological impulse. Like I needed to take you to bed the way I need to breathe. Like it was built into my DNA.”

  I snort. “I don’t know if I really believe you. You didn’t love me at first sight.”

  “Love? No. I loved you later. But I don’t think you should underestimate how interested in you I was from the first time I saw you.”

  I’m smiling. Who wouldn’t be smiling, hearing something like that? “If you were interested, why didn’t you ask me out?”

  “You wouldn’t have said yes.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have. But you could have asked.”

  “And get rejected by someone I wanted as much as you? No thanks.”

  “Well, you could have tried to be nice to me. If I’d liked you back then, I probably would have said yes. I thought yo
u were superhot from the first time I met you.”

  “I know you did.”

  “You did not. I hid it well.”

  “You did hide it well but not well enough. I knew you were into me too.”

  “So why not just be nice instead of acting all smug and obnoxious and making me dislike you?”

  He doesn’t answer immediately, so I turn my head to try to see his face.

  He takes advantage of this by kissing me softly.

  When I pull away, I say, “Don’t try to distract me. I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  He sighs. “You scared me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You scared me. I was scared by how much I wanted you, and I was scared by how... how strong you were. It felt like you had the power to strip me bare, and I... I wasn’t sure I wanted that to happen. I’m not sure I ever thought all this through consciously, but it was there in the background. I was trying to be someone. I was trying to prove myself. And I was afraid you might make me weak.”

  “So you acted all cocky and infuriating?”

  “Yes. That’s what I do.”

  I giggle and turn my head to kiss him again. This time when we pull away, he doesn’t need any prompting to continue. “So when you showed up in my office and asked me to marry you, it felt like... like a sign. Yes, I wanted the advertising contract with Pop’s. I wanted it a lot. I might even have married you just for that. But it also felt like I was finally given the chance to... pursue these strange feelings that have always been lingering in the back of my mind for you.”

  “Huh.”

  “That’s all you have to say? Huh?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I know you didn’t. I was careful not to let you know. I didn’t want to spook you.”

  “You did spook me. A lot.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I got over it.”

  “Yeah.”

  He’s been stroking my body the whole time, and now he’s gotten stalled on my breasts. He’s teasing the nipples in a way that’s sending shockwaves of pleasure down to the building pressure below my belly.

  I’m almost completely relaxed, but the arousal suddenly makes me gasp and arch.

  Trevor chuckles. “You like that?”