The Affair (The Relationship Quo Series Book 5)

by Nicole Strycharz

  “Lydia…”

  I put my hand out to the bird. “Come on, yeah, that’s okay, hi,” he thrusted his neck forward and nipped me with his beak. “Owe! Hey!” I growled.

  The goose put out his wings and hunched again.

  “Uh oh…” I backed up but he still took offense, racing after me. I screamed and ran toward Lorenzo. I figured giving the goose a few feet of space would calm him down, but when I looked back, he was still coming.

  Lorenzo was laughing harder than ever, grabbing my hand and taking off, his longer strides finally putting some dust in our pursuer’s face.

  Our laughing was like medicine. Until we looked back and saw that the flock was coming too.

  “Let’s see it,” Lorenzo insisted when we returned to our suite.

  I groaned, going to the couch to throw myself down on my very sore ass. “Stupid bird.”

  “Stupid girl,” he corrected, sitting next to me.

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “The side of common sense.” He made a turning motion with his index finger.

  I complied, draping my upper body over the arm of the sofa. “This isn’t awkward at all.” I pulled up the hem of my dress and jumped when I felt Lorenzo’s warm hands on my thigh.

  “Nothing I haven’t seen.”

  “Yeah, sure, other women you know have been bitten on the ass by a bird?”

  His laugh brought out my own. “Using words like ass, now?”

  I pressed my mouth to the cushioned arm.

  He made a hissing sound.

  “Is it that bad?” I asked.

  “Well,” he gently felt me. “It’s not on your ass, it’s right under it, but yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

  He described it as a big red mark with broken skin in a few small places. Great.

  He called down to the desk and had them bring us an antibiotic cream and band-aids. When he sat with me again, he brought his medical tools and a warm, wet, washcloth with a hint of soap. I was in so much pain, I hadn’t thought twice about him doing this. I’m realizing it was a mistake because his hands are too attentive, too careful, and causing a stirring sensation in my lower stomach. I shut my eyes, but nothing would shut out the sudden awareness my body is experiencing of his. I think of the fact that he’s looking at me, that I’m laying here with my skirt up, and my heart starts to spasm.

  And then he’s done. All too soon.

  LORENZO

  My sister Angela is talking my ear off while I wait for Lydia to get dressed for dinner. On the balcony, a cigarette my only company, I listen to my sis’s jibber.

  “How’s Lydia?” she finally asked.

  I blow the smoke away, then answer. “She’s good. Got bit in the ass by a goose, but otherwise…”

  “Oh God,” she laughed. “Poor thing.”

  “Nah, she’s fine.”

  “How are you?”

  I breathed through my nose. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you both behaving?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t go there, or I’m hanging up.”

  “She looked good in jeans, didn’t she? She’s a good-looking woman under all them layers.”

  I held my cigarette between my fingers and rubbed the bridge of my nose with the back of my thumb. She’s more than good-looking. She may not doll up like some women, but she doesn’t need to. I had no idea she was shaped the way she was, not until I saw her in the bikini the other day. She’s petite, but Ma was right, her new eating habits have filled her out in the right ways. It’s been messing with my head a little, and I wouldn’t have taken her wrap off that day if I’d have known what I was in for.

  “Listen, tell Liam to watch the stove in the corner, I think it’s—”

  “Changing the subject, huh?” Angela lured.

  “There was no subject.”

  “You know what?” She softened her approach. “It’s okay Bro…”

  I bristled.

  She said again, softer. “It’s okay…”

  I entertained it. Just for a second. For the first time. What it would be like to want Lydia. What it would be like to be wanted by a woman like her.

  “Hey, Ma wants to talk, hold on,” she said, releasing me from this conversation

  Ma spoke to me a good few minutes, then, “Hold on, Giada wants to say hi.”

  Giada filled my ear, then, “Oh, oh, oh, listen, say hello to Rocco, he’s trying to figure out Ma’s thermostat.”

  I got passed to nearly every family member, even Nonna.

  “Ready?” Lydia asked from behind me.

  I turned around and my gaze stuck to her.

  She’s not dressed extravagantly, not sexily, but she’s setting my blood into a race through my veins. Her pale blue dress is simple, small brown buttons down the front, and no jewelry except a thin black watch to match the little black flats she’s wearing.

  Her bare arms are bowed, hands together as she pulls at her wedding ring, and her hair is down in soft waves around her shoulders, pulled back on the sides.

  She’s not my type. That was the first thing that came to mind. But my type was changing.

  “Yeah,” I sign off with my family and then come back inside. “You look nice.”

  “Thank you,” she pulled the skirt bottom. “And see, at the knee, maybe one inch less.”

  “Somewhere, nuns are shuddering,” I joke. “How’s the bite?”

  “It’s sore, but I’m okay,” she blushed, and I remembered my hands on her, in such an intimate place. I kept my mind in the right place while it was happening, but now I’ve had time to think about it.

  “Let’s go,” I headed to the door and she followed.

  We went to dinner at a place nearby that was mostly outdoor seating. Golden bulbs strung from the trees overhead and around us, encircling the enormous cedar pagoda we’re under.

  “I’ve never eaten outside at Cibo Degli Dei,” she says.

  I look at her from across the table and tilt my head. “Well, you’ve only known the place during cold months. Now that it’s warmer, you might. We have lights like this out there, but more plants.”

  She pushed her food around with a fork. “Is it weird that nothing tastes as good as the food at your restaurant?”

  I laughed.

  “No, I’m serious,” she looked serious enough. “This is… it’s okay, but…”

  “What do you want?”

  She considered it. “I want…” She sat forward, hands together. “ I want Bistecca alla Fiorentina.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yep.”

  I sat back and watched her continue to play with her food after the confession.

  “Alright.”

  She looked up. “Alright, what?”

  “Come,” I got up.

  “I’m pretty sure they don’t have that here,” she laughed.

  “They don’t,” I pulled out her chair. “We’re going to get what we need… and then I’ll make it.”

  “In that itty-bitty kitchenette?” she sat back and threw her head back against my stomach to see me.

  “Come.”

  “You just paid for this,” she pointed to the table. When I didn’t reply, she stood and followed me out.

  After getting what we needed, we went back to the resort and I began. She sat on the sofa closest to the kitchen and read one of her McAdam’s books for a while. The quite harmony was restful. Just like our morning coffees. I’m in my space, she’s in hers, but we’re existing together, needing the occupancy of each other.

  Curious, she gravitates closer to watch me work, her pretty, gray eyes catching every trick.

  She helps at times, where I’ll permit her to, and it gives me excuses to come behind her and be close. I don’t touch her; I don’t reach out. I’m careful of that and so is she. No touching. I just orbit nearby. She’s doing the same thing. Orbiting, revolving, affecting each other’s atmosphere without bumping.

  And just like that, we have a glimpse of what life could be.
<
br />   Not wondering where the other person is.

  Not this pit of depression and pain.

  No betrayal.

  No phone sounds.

  No strangers texting.

  The feeling of being enough. Not more, not less.

  Just enough.

  On the drive home, she kept herself leaned against me. It was different from the way it was driving out here.

  Then she comes off and takes her bag, eyes heavy with something as she hands me the helmet and jacket.

  She seems to stand in question for a minute before she hugs me. This time I’m tempted to hug her back.

  “Bye,” she breathed the word near my ear.

  “Addio.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LYDIA

  “Honey? Hon? Did you hear me? Honey?” Noah’s voice was lost on me.

  I sat at the island with my scrapbooking work, completely zoned out. I toyed with the thin gold chain my little cross was on, thinking about my days away with Lorenzo.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I saw him in my mind, but it was deeper than that. I could feel Lorenzo in my bones. My skull is a room filled with images of him. My spine tingles when I hear his voice. My ribs won’t expand correctly for my lungs when he walks into a room.

  My bones ached when he wasn’t around. He was residing in my bones. I’m not sure when it started, I think it was a subtle happening. Doesn’t matter. I’m married and I can’t go there.

  Or can I?

  “Lydia?” Noah’s annoyed bark drops me into the moment.

  “Sorry, what?”

  He laughs. “You look worn out; do you need to nap?”

  I shake my head. “I was just… daydreaming.”

  “I was asking where my counseling notes are.”

  “Your counseling notes? I didn’t even know you were still going through with that.”

  He scratched his bearded cheek. “I told you I was… three weeks ago. I also told you where my notes were. You usually know those things.”

  I pressed my lips together, shrugging. “I don’t remember.” I started positioning the pictures in the wedding album I was making for a client.

  “You never do anymore,” he muttered.

  “I work, now, sometimes I drop the ball.”

  “Sometimes?” he picked up his Bible and duffle. “Things are falling apart around here. I know your work is important, but it’s not like you to be less than tidy. To not remember significant topics.”

  True, the house has suffered.

  “I never felt like I had a purpose before. Aside from keeping everything in here, perfect.”

  “You’ve always scrapbooked.”

  “Not for money.” I checked through my stack of pictures. “Not with other people’s memories. I’m responsible for memories, it’s special.”

  “Your purpose is cutting and gluing,” he laughed. He wasn’t trying to be a jerk. He really thought it was funny and that I would laugh too. “Kindergarteners do that.”

  I kept positioning, trying different angles. The jokes on him, he’s a marriage counselor that is having an affair.

  “I’m just kidding, Ruby,” he said pressing a kiss to my forehead. He freezes and I do too.

  The name that just came off his lips, sizzles in the air and hangs like a foul smell.

  “Duh, I meant Lydia,” he convincingly laughed it off. “One of my parole wards is Ruby. Theft, of course. She’s from Harlem. I keep forgetting her name, and now I remember.”

  I held the tip of his beard and kissed his cheek. “Tell Ruby that I’ll be praying for her. That maybe one day she’ll learn to keep her hands off other people’s things.”

  DAYS LATER

  “What are we looking for?” Lorenzo asked me the following week.

  “Cats,” I said excitedly.

  We wandered the animal shelter looking into a ton of cages, all housing animals I want to snuggle and take home, but I’m looking for that special one.

  In the division where the cats are held, I find wall-to-wall cubbies with zillions of cats. Lorenzo isn’t really looking, just along for the adventure.

  I encounter kittens, fluffy white, tiger-striped, and orange.

  There’s a black cat with white splotches named Cow.

  A Siamese that’s blind.

  Two boy cats, Tom and Jerry, with bored expressions.

  I knelt and looked below.

  There was a brown cat napping against the bars. When I stroked her fur, she flipped on her back and latched on to my hand with claws and teeth. “Owe!” I fought to get my hand back.

  Lorenzo bent and read her clipboard. “Her name is Lilith, after the she-demon and she eats souls and slippers.”

  “It doesn’t say that,” I looked. “Oh,” It did.

  I moved over and observed a cat that looked like he was wearing a tuxedo. His markings looked exactly like a bowtie. “Hello,” I said.

  He blinked at me, yawned, and then came to purr the bars.

  “He likes you,” Lorenzo said.

  “He’s cute”

  “That the one?”

  “Mmm,” I sat back on my feet. “Not really.”

  “Were you this picky choosing a husband?”

  I laughed. “Believe it or not, no. I fell hard for Noah right away. He was charming and polite, goofy, cocky, made me laugh…”

  “Lied.”

  “Didn’t he, though?” I looked at all the cats.

  “I don’t want that anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Easy love.”

  “What’s that?”

  I thought up how to put this new idea. I decided on it last night before coming here. Equating my marriage to finding a cat. “I think you were right. I think by living my life in a bubble… I came into my relationship with nothing to measure by. I had my silver yardstick… my fanciful expectations… but I didn’t have the patience or take time to build. Courtship is supposed to be better than dating. It’s safer, but you only know the surface version of the other person.”

  “I dated Ruby and I still didn’t know half the shit I was walking into,” he countered.

  “But dating is gritty and honest.”

  “Nah, you can hide your true colors a long time. You’ve been married for almost six years, and you just learned who Noah is.”

  I nodded. “That’s true.” I’m still learning who I am too.

  “Honesty is the only element people need. If two people are being themselves the whole time they date or whatever, and they still fall in love, regardless of the flaws, then what you get is real. If you’re both real, then you’ll see each other in the shit storms, in the good stuff, in the sad stuff. Maybe it’s just being able to love the person when they’re in a rotten fucking mood.”

  I smiled. He has a good point. As always.

  I scooted further down to browse the cats.

  “But you’re right,” he said, walking behind me. “Easy love comes as fast as it goes.”

  I leaned to the left and saw a giant ball of gray fur. I leaned some more. The cat in there was obese, to put it nicely, and his back and sides were covered in mats. He was so big he took up the cage. His face was handsome, supported by a puffy, proud, white bib of fur. White whiskers that were super long. He looked like he was wearing socks, each paw dipped in more white. He was a long-hair, and his ears were clipped. Little flaps of skin, that should make up the tips, dangling.

  He was a majestic looking critter.

  I got lost in his giant green eyes, pupils big, dark, and pulsating.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  Lorenzo bent, not able to see the cat, only the sheet with his information. “His name is Kendrick III and he is a hot mess.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It says all four paws were declawed.”

  “Oh, poor baby.”

  “He’s no baby, he’s sixteen.”

  “Aw.”

  “And whoever owned him removed his voice bo
x, didn’t brush him ever and overfed him.”

  “He was abused,” I gasped. I put my hand in the cage.

  Kendrick’s reaction was to thump my hand five times in repetition and hiss in the weirdest way ever.

  Lorenzo bent even more to look. Then he stepped back, “What the fuck is that?” he asked.

  “It’s a cat,” I pressed my hands to the bars. “And he is officially my cat.”

  “What? That thing?”

  “He’s perfect.”

  “You see him, right?”

  “So, he’s a little grumpy…” I shrugged. “You were grumpy when I met you, too.”

  The volunteers came and I asked to hold him. Kendrick hissed at me every time and beat me like a boxer with his giant paws.

  “He doesn’t like you,” Lorenzo said from a safe distance.

  “Then I’ll have to work at it,” I felt Kendrick’s mats and frowned. “It won’t be easy love…”

  Lorenzo’s eyes lingered on mine. Feeling too much pressure in my chest, I looked away, concerning myself with Kendrick.

  “He’s the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen,” he added.

  “He only needs a little care.”

  “A lot of care.”

  “He’s a sweet little guy.”

  “He ain’t little.”

  I widened my eyes. “I already bought toys and everything.”

  “Don’t expect much, he’s an ancient antique. About a hundred in human years.”

  “He’s puuurfect,” I laughed.

  And he was.

  I’m in love.

  I love this cat.

  I spent three hours with a pair of manicure scissors, and a comb, getting all his mats out. He hated me a little bit, but I could tell he felt better.

  He found a place on my sofa and curled up to sit and watch me work, eyes narrowed. I talked to him all day. He fell asleep for most of it. He’s like moving an old man into the house.

  Thinking he was deep enough in sleep; I went over to pet him. I knelt and gently stroked him at eye level.

  I was rewarded with four thumps on the head with one of his clawless paws.

  “I’m gonna win you over,” I sang the words as I stood.

  He hissed.

  LORENZO

  Ruby and I visited Giada in the hospital after the baby was born.