The Good Neighbors

by Kiersten Modglin

  “Well, that’s terrifying.”

  “It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. It just means our love is different now. We can both appreciate beautiful people without worrying about it hurting our marriage.”

  “What are you saying?” she asked, taking a step back. She grabbed hold of a piece of her hair, twisting it around a shaking finger.

  He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m freaking you out. Forget I said anything.” He hurried into the kitchen. “Now, do you have chicken broth?”

  She nodded her head toward the pantry. “Jason, are you saying Tori is attracted to Bryant, too?”

  He walked over, pulling out the box of broth and opening the cabinets to search for a pan before he turned around. “Yeah, I think so.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But it’s not anything serious.”

  “Does he know?” she asked, her throat suddenly dry, stomach in a knot. She felt like she was going to be sick again as anger bubbled through her.

  He didn’t look her way immediately, instead turning on the burner and pouring the broth into a pan. When he turned around, his eyes were soft. “You’d have to ask him about that.”

  “But you think he does. That much is obvious.”

  He rubbed the nape of his neck. “I think…I think that my wife is far from discreet.”

  “So, you think she’s going to act on it.”

  “I’d say she already has, Harper, but I don’t know that for sure. I’m just guessing.”

  She swallowed. “Bryant wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t cheat on me.” She was trying to convince herself just as much as she was him. “He loves me.”

  He nodded. “I have no doubt that he does,” he said simply. “I’m only saying…it’s possible to love someone with all of your heart and still be attracted to other people.”

  “We aren’t like that,” she said, feeling her anger growing. “I’d like you to leave, please,” she said. “Now.”

  He took a step toward her as she stepped back. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, reaching for her arm. She jerked it away. “I’m really sorry, Harper. Honestly, I am.”

  “I’d like you to leave, Jason,” she repeated.

  He let out a sigh, but his arm finally fell to his side and his lips formed a thin line. He ducked his head down, walking past her. “I’m really sorry,” he said, shutting the door behind him as he disappeared.

  With hot, angry tears in her eyes, Harper hurried to the couch and grabbed her phone. She dialed Bryant’s phone number from memory with shaking hands, watching as his name appeared on her screen before placing it to her ear.

  “Hello?” he answered quickly, his voice low. She could hear the commotion in the background, and she knew he must be in class.

  “I need you to come home,” she insisted. “Now.”

  “What is it? Are you sick again?”

  “Just come home, Bryant,” she said, tired of keeping the tears at bay as she finally allowed them to fall.

  “Harper?” he asked, seeming to realize she was crying. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

  “Now,” she begged. “Please, please come home now.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he promised, hanging up the phone without saying goodbye. Within seconds, she was grabbing the trash can and allowing her stomach to empty once again.

  When Bryant arrived at home, he rushed into the room, his hair frazzled. “What is it?” he asked, eyes wide. “What happened?”

  She sat up on the couch, staring at him with a horrified expression. “I need to ask you something,” she said, wiping her eyes. “And I need you to be completely honest with me.”

  He froze in place, and she could swear his color fell two shades lighter. “Okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Are you attracted to Tori?” she asked, crossing her arms and watching as his worried expression grew terrified.

  “W-what? No! Of course not. No. Why would you think that? No! Babe, of course not.” He spit the words out as fast as they would come, his head shaking incessantly.

  “You’re lying,” she said, and they both knew she was right. She stood up, her eyes narrowing at him. “I know that you are.”

  “What did she say to you?” he asked.

  She inhaled sharply at his almost-confession. That’s what that was, right? His words told her all she needed to know. “What do you think she told me?”

  He looked away, seeming to be contemplating his next move. When he looked back up, his jaw was tight and his eyes had grown watery. “I’m so sorry,” he told her. She wanted to go to him, her automatic response when he showed any sign of vulnerability, but she couldn’t. She had to stand firm here. She had to know the truth. The whole truth.

  “You’re sorry?” she asked. “For what, exactly?” She was trying to seem like she knew more than he did, and he was trying to determine exactly how much she did know. Bryant was an open book, his expressions so easy for her to read after so long together.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Bryant, you aren’t getting out of this.”

  “I love you,” he said again, stepping toward her and taking both of her hands in his. “I need you to hear that. I wanted to tell you what I did. What we did. It was stupid. A mistake. I never should’ve done it. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even entirely intentional. But, I still did it. I’ll never forgive myself. I can’t say I blame you if you never forgive me, either. But I do love you, Harper. Only you. Tori and I…it was a huge mistake. I never want to see her again. I want to be with you. Being with her, it only confirmed what I knew about us.”

  Tears began falling more freely, and she dropped his hands, unable to form words. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to pull herself together. “You…you slept with her?”

  His eyes darted in between hers, and he seemed to realize his mistake. “You didn’t know?”

  She shook her head. “Jason said she was attracted to you. That he thought you were attracted to her, too.”

  “How would he know that? Wait a minute, why was Jason—”

  She turned on her heel, storming into the kitchen with Bryant close behind. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare ask me what he was doing here. You have no right. None. You’re a cheater and a liar and I hate you! I hate you!” she screamed, slamming the coffee mug she’d grabbed down onto the counter so hard it shattered.

  He moved to pick it up, but she stepped in front of the mess. “Don’t touch it. Get out of my sight, Bryant. I don’t…I can’t stand to look at you.”

  “I want to talk about this. I want to work things out. I don’t want to lose you,” he begged, his eyes filling with more tears.

  “GET OUT!” she bellowed, pointing her finger toward the doorway for emphasis. Every part of her body shook with adrenaline, and if he didn’t get out of her sight that instant, she was sure she would hurt him. She sank to the ground as he backed out of the room, and she heard his footsteps headed upstairs. It was only when she heard the bedroom door close that she openly wept, crying both for the part of herself and the dream life she’d lost in the same day.

  Twenty-Nine

  Bryant

  He was an idiot. A moron. A complete and utter imbecile. With each passing hour—each passing day—that he couldn’t get Harper to speak to him, the truth grew louder in his head. He had become a man he hated and, in turn, lost the woman he loved.

  He wasn’t giving up. He would fight for her. He would fight for their marriage. But, he couldn’t blame her if she blew him off. If the tables were turned, would he do anything differently? If she’d cheated on him? Likely not. It was a pain he knew well. Before Harper, his last girlfriend had cheated on him, and it still hurt to think about. Not to mention the fact that he’d watched his own mother grieve month after month over his father’s indiscretions.

  He hurried down the stairs as fast as his legs would move. He’d been late for work every day since their argument, but he couldn’t bear
to face Harper in the mornings. He didn’t want to upset her any further. So, he holed up in the office where he’d blown up the air mattress to sleep. Every morning, he’d wait until he heard the front door shut, alerting him that she was gone, before he’d begin his morning routine.

  So, as he rushed out the door, swinging his keys in his hand, his coffee sloshing as he ran, he cursed aloud as he saw what was awaiting him.

  “Damn! You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, kicking the pavement underneath his feet. All four tires on the silver car had been slashed. He walked forward, trying to examine them closer. Sure enough, there was a long gash in each of the tires. “Seriously?” he cried loudly, pulling out his phone to send a quick text to the school’s secretary to let her know he’d be late. He didn’t bother calling the police, knowing it must’ve been Harper. Instead, he called a tow truck and stormed back inside.

  Maybe it was a sign of progress, that she was at least acting out in her anger. For the past three days, it had been nothing but the silent treatment. Now she was communicating with him, even if it wasn’t in a positive way. He’d take what he could get.

  When Harper arrived home that night, Bryant had the house cleaned top to bottom. He’d cooked steak with asparagus and had it waiting—hot and ready—on the table. She walked into the house, her purse weighing her down, hair falling from her bun, and looked around.

  “What’s this?” she asked, her face twisted in confusion.

  “I, um,” he hurried to her side, taking her purse from her and setting it down, “I thought maybe you’d be ready to talk now.”

  “Why would you think that? Wait, did you clean the house?” She glanced toward the kitchen.

  “Yes. I did. I finished all the laundry and even scrubbed the bathtub and the floors.”

  She crossed her arms. “You’ve been busy.”

  “I have,” he said. “And it’s not nearly enough, but…I’m hoping it’s a start.”

  “A start?”

  “A start to…fixing us.”

  She let out a sarcastic laugh. “What? You thought you could fold a few loads of laundry and suddenly we’d be fine?”

  “Of course not,” he assured her. “That’s not what I’m saying, but after I missed work today, instead of just being mad at you, I spent the day trying to prove to you how sorry I am. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

  “What are you talking about? You missed work? You can’t blame me because you’ve been hiding out in that office every morning.” She wagged a finger at him, shaking her head firmly. Her upper lip was curling, a sure sign she was furious.

  “I haven’t been hiding out, and that’s not what I meant. But my tires? Really, Harper? I know you’re mad, but we aren’t made of money. That was six hundred dollars out of our savings.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, touching her chest. “What was?”

  “My tires,” he repeated, trying to understand the confused look on her face. “You slashed my tires this morning…didn’t you?”

  “Are you kidding me?” she screamed, rushing to the door. “Of course I didn’t slash your tires.”

  “The car’s in the shop,” he said, explaining why the driveway was empty. “You didn’t notice it wasn’t here when you pulled in?”

  “I just assumed you were visiting your girlfriend,” she snarked, but continued before he could argue. “When were your tires slashed?”

  “This morning before I could leave for work. I just assumed you did it.”

  Bewilderment filled her face as she turned to stare at him. “You seriously think I’m that stupid? Why would I slash your tires?” She paused. “I know why I would, but come on, Bryant. Give me a little credit, will you? I’m not insane.”

  He shook his head. “You mean you didn’t do it?”

  “Of course I didn’t do it!” she exclaimed, then looked back out the door. “So, who did?”

  “Some kid, I guess,” he said, his throat dry. “Who else could it have been?” When she didn’t answer right away, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t bother to explain for what, and honestly, he wasn’t sure he could put into words just what he was apologizing for, but she seemed to understand.

  “We don’t have six hundred dollars sitting around. That money was supposed to go to pay off the credit card we put the U-Haul on.”

  “I know,” he said. “We’ll just have to keep saving. It’s going to be okay.”

  “I’ll see if I can work some doubles next week. Savannah’s been out sick, it should be okay.”

  “I don’t want you to do that,” he said, tugging gently at her shoulders so she’d turn around.

  “Well, I didn’t want you to cheat on me,” she said softly, avoiding his gaze. “I guess neither of us get what we want here.” With that, she walked away with no power left in her voice.

  Thirty

  Harper

  Harper stared into the long mirror on the back of the bathroom door, examining her body. The stomach bug she’d managed to endure for more than two weeks was causing her to lose weight pretty drastically. Add that to an illicit affair confession, and she was practically withering away. Though she would’ve once been glad to hear she’d dropped a few pounds, the curves she loved were disappearing with the excess weight. She’d gone past the goal weight she’d had since college days ago, and she was still losing.

  Bryant knocked on the door hesitantly. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked through the wood, and she pulled her shirt down quickly.

  “Yeah,” she said, opening the door. “Need something?”

  “I just need to get to the alcohol. I cut my hand on the box opener.”

  “Box opener?” she asked. “Why did you need the box opener?” She followed him over to the sink, where he attempted to wash out the gaping cut on his palm.

  “I got a package,” he said, opening the cabinet above him.

  “It’s down here,” she told him, opening the bottom drawer and pulling the clear plastic bottle out. He reached for it, but she took his hand. “I’ll do it. Hold still.” He nodded, wincing. He’d never been very good with blood. “You can look away if you need to,” she said with a soft laugh.

  “Thank you,” he told her, and she was sure it wasn’t going over either of their heads that this was the first time she’d touched her husband in nearly two weeks. She poured the alcohol over his wound, rubbing her fingers over his skin to wipe away the blood. She missed this. His touch. Him. She missed feeling his skin against hers. And yet, as she stared down into his palms, she couldn’t help picturing those same palms caressing Tori. What places had those hands explored? The hands that were only meant for her.

  With tears stinging her eyes, she dropped his hand, setting the bottle down and rushing from the room without a word.

  “Harper, wait!” he called, and she heard his heavy footsteps approaching her.

  “Please, just don’t,” she said, stopping dead in the living room. “What is all this?” she asked, staring at the pile of magazines and letters sitting on top of a brown box on the coffee table.

  “The mail,” he said, trying to dismiss it. “What happened?”

  She walked to the pile. “Why do we have so much? What did you order?”

  “I don’t know. I assumed you ordered it.”

  She picked up the box. “But it’s addressed to you. All of it. These letters…donation requests, subscriptions we never signed up for. Playboy,” she said, holding up the magazine, “really?”

  “It wasn’t me!” he insisted, taking the magazines from her and tossing them into the trash for emphasis. “I swear it wasn’t. I get my porn online like a normal person,” he said, nudging her. A joke that maybe would’ve warranted a chuckle from her before only stung more.

  “Or from next door,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure he’d heard. She picked up the box cutter from the floor, noticing the specks of blood on the hardwood that she’d have to clean up soon, and slid it acros
s the tape sealing up the box. She opened the box quickly, reaching in and pulling out the pink silk teddy inside. She turned to look at him, unable to keep the hurt expression from her face. It was clearly a size too big for her, especially in the chest. “What’s this?”

  His jaw dropped, staring at the lingerie. “Harper, I didn’t.” He held his hands up in front of his chest. “You have to know I wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t know what you would do anymore, Bryant,” she said firmly, slamming the lingerie back into the box. She picked up the magazines, their fronts clad with women in bathing suits, and the countless letters asking them to donate to this cause and that, and tossed them all in the trash. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this is not okay.”

  “I didn’t do any of this,” he repeated firmly. “Now it’s you who must think I’m stupid.”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid,” she told him. “I’m just…I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  “It has to be Tori,” he said, scratching his head.

  “But…why? Why would she do this? What has she got to gain from it all?”

  “Maybe she’s angry that I ended it.”

  “Was there something to end?” she asked, swallowing.

  “I mean, you know what I mean.”

  She nodded, folding her arms across her chest in a shiver. “Please just get rid of it,” she said finally, turning to walk away.

  “Can we just talk? Please? I’m doing all I know to do here,” he said.

  She spun on her heel, her finger pointed at him. “All you know to do? All you know to do? Seriously, you did not just say that to me, Bryant. Maybe, I don’t know,” she shrugged sarcastically, “maybe you should’ve done what you knew to do long before you were sliding up her skirt.”

  “I’ve said I’m sorry, Harper,” he told her, his voice soft.

  “Yeah, you have,” she said. “But sorry doesn’t fix it.”