by Jewel E. Ann
A tiny line formed along the bridge of his nose as he let his gaze fall away from mine.
“Ronin, I’m not shaming you. Or Lila and Graham. It was a disaster. Emotionally draining. But like life, it had its beautiful moments. Our families all together for the first time.” I smiled. “Franz in that tiny tux and Anya in that red dress and big bow in her hair.”
That brought a real smile to Ronin’s face too, even if he still couldn’t look at me.
“So while it’s tempting to want to forget this whole day, that would be a greater tragedy. There are too many memories I will cherish. I’ll take the bad with the good. That’s life.” I bopped his chin with my toe, forcing him to look at me again. “When we exchanged those vows five years ago, we promised a lot of things, but we never said it would be easy.”
He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “I lied,” he whispered. “Earlier today, when I told you I’d start treatment tomorrow, I lied. I just didn’t want to argue on your birthday. This stubborn part of me was still in denial that I needed help. But when you couldn’t even look at me during your speech…” he brought his head up, opening his reddened eyes a bit as his forehead wrinkled, like saying the words pained him “…I knew the bottle of pills in the pocket of my jacket was destroying us. And it was chilling … like being buried under the rumble of an avalanche. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.” He shook his head, leaning it back again and closing his eyes. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it coming.”
After letting his confession simmer between us for a few minutes, I pushed myself out of the water. “I’m getting chilly.” Wrapping a towel around myself, I stepped out of the tub.
On top of the overnight bag by the door was a sack. “What’s in the sack?” I set it aside and opened the suitcase to retrieve a nightshirt. Only … I didn’t pack one. I packed a sexy black lace and satin nightie because we were going to do some naughty things on my birthday with a suite all to ourselves and no kids to wake us up. Given the detour that my day took and the gravity of our bathtub conversation, I decided to skip the nightie in favor of a soft tee Ronin packed to wear the next day.
“Did I give you permission to wear my shirt?”
I turned, stepping into my panties. “You love me in your clothes.”
He eyed me playfully as he retrieved a pair of boxer briefs and slipped them on. “You’re staring, Mrs. Alexander.”
I snapped my gaze to meet his smirk. Yes, five years later, I still loved looking at his naked body. “What’s in the sack?”
He shrugged, plopping onto the bed. “I don’t know. Graham put our bag into the car from the limo. The sack was there too.”
I peeked into the sack and grinned, pulling out a clear container with a huge piece of cake inside of it. My birthday cake. He even packed a fork. Although … my bet was on Lila. She told him to send cake. Traipsing to the bed with my cake—my last bit of birthday joy—I took a seat with my back against the headboard.
“You’re not going to share?”
Mid-bite, I glanced over at Ronin as he turned onto his side, head propped up on his bent arm. “It’s my birthday cake. I didn’t get any at the party.”
“Neither did I.”
“And whose fault is that?”
He frowned. “Fine.”
I took the bite and hummed. It was so good.
“I’m not sharing cake with you on my birthday … just so you know.”
Sliding my gaze to the side as I eased the fork from my mouth, I snickered. “I make your birthday cake. I always have the first piece, right out of the middle, then I fill it with frosting and nobody is the wiser.”
He opened his mouth as wide as possible, nose wrinkled. “That is truly horrible!”
I scooped a dollop of frosting onto my finger and stuck it in his open mouth. “You’ve never made me a cake; that’s the truly horrible part.”
Ronin grabbed my wrist before I could pull my finger out of his mouth. Closing his lips, he sucked all the frosting from my finger. I liked it, but I told myself I wasn’t allowed to like it. Not on a ruined birthday. There was no way birthday girl was giving her fun-spoiling husband sex on her birthday. Also, I convinced myself that reasoning it all out via third-person in my head was the way to go … the way to hold strong.
Evelyn was not having sex with Ronin.
With his other hand, he grabbed the entire piece of cake.
“Ronin!” I jerked my finger from his mouth, but not before he smeared cake down my face and neck.
“Stop!” I tried to squirm away, but he stuck his cake-covered hand up my shirt … well, his shirt. I gasped, eyes wide as he smeared the cake and frosting over me. “Not cool! Not cool at—”
That sticky hand cupped my jaw, and his mouth covered mine, kissing me hard, passionately, and with a clear purpose—getting his fair share of the cake. He licked down my face, lapping the sticky mess while humming his pleasure.
“Ronin …” I claimed two fists full of his hair and tried to jerk him away, but he kept going.
Lower.
And lower.
Until … I lost my resolve.
Birthday girl had sex with Ronin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Forty was supposed to be the true age of independence—the essence of youth still a glint in one’s eyes with the wisdom of experience keeping that chin tilted high.
Yet … we found it quite unwise to eat cake off each other while having sex in a hotel bed. That was how you ended up standing in the corner of the hotel suite, chins bowed, showered bodies wrapped in plush white robes (because you nearly ran out of clean clothes) while watching housekeeping change all the bedding because they wouldn’t allow VIP guests to change the bedding on our own.
Ronin handed the lady a generous tip as she exited the suite with our dirty sheets and an awkward goodnight smile.
“TV?” Ronin took my hand and led me to the bed.
We discarded our robes and snuggled naked in the clean bedding, hair wet, grins rather mischievous. As he turned on the TV and scanned the channels, he stopped on a cable network with some late-night adult entertainment. In over five years of marriage, we never watched adult entertainment short of a few R-rated shows with some explicit sex scenes.
This was different.
I waited for him to click past it, as if he accidentally stopped on it. He didn’t click past it. Nope, he set the remote down beside him and cocked that arm behind his head while hugging me to him with his other arm.
It was a threesome. Two women. One man.
Okay. He wasn’t going to ask me about Vancouver. We were just going to watch a porn movie with two women and one man in bed together.
“Um …” I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure this is what I’d choose to watch on my birthday.”
“Noted. I’ll remember that for next year. But it’s past midnight, so technically it’s no longer your birthday.”
Girl one sat on single guy’s face. Girl two settled into cowgirl position.
Girl three—me—hid my face in the crook of Ronin’s neck, hoping he might switch the channel or find some interest in me again and just shut off the television.
No luck.
I slid my hand down his stomach, going for a new distraction. My hand paused, not expecting him to be so turned on when I had just started to make my move. Yet, he was totally erect.
“You’re …” My voice shook a bit. Five years of marriage … my voice had no reason to shake. That was the power of that little thing called the comfort zone. Stepping outside of it made voices shake and cheeks fill with embarrassment. “You’re enjoying this?”
I had to ask, even though I knew the answer. We talked sex while having sex. We experimented with sexual positions without watching demonstrations. What was wrong with me that I felt so uncomfortable? What was wrong with him that he didn’t?
“Yes. Aren’t you?”
I crawled over his chest and grabbed the remote, pressing the Power button. �
��No. I’m not enjoying that. Why don’t you just ask? I’d rather tell you about Vancouver than watch that shit. Is that what you want?”
He moved his other hand behind his head, lacing his fingers. “Well, you shut off that shit, so I assume you’re ready to tell me—five years after the fact.”
I sighed, sitting straight while facing him, pulling the covers up to my chest. “When I was in elementary school, I fell off a horse and broke my arm. It was in a cast for six weeks, and everyone in school signed it and drew pictures on it. I bet the cast is still in an old box in my parents’ garage.”
Ronin quirked a single brow. “That’s why Lila was sliding her hand up your leg in the limo?”
“No. It’s just a random thing about me that you didn’t know and doesn’t really matter in our life together. Just like that time in Vancouver when Graham and Lila invaded my hotel room and tried to drag me into a threesome—a random event that doesn’t really matter in our life together.”
Ronin narrowed his eyes. “Well, I disagree. Did this threesome look like that threesome?” He nodded toward the blank TV screen.
I sighed. “No. Not even close. And the reason I never told you is because you know all the parties involved, and I don’t want you to get these images in your head. It could affect the way you look at me, or Lila and Graham too.”
“Well, in case you missed the subtle hint I just gave you by stopping on that channel, if you don’t clarify what Lila alluded to earlier in the limo, then that…” he nodded again to the screen “…is what I imagine happened between the three of you. And that makes me pretty fucking unhappy.”
I bristled at his comment. How dare he be upset about anything after the debacle of my birthday sparked by his hidden drug addiction.
“Why would you be fucking unhappy?” I narrowed my eyes. “I felt you, and you were clearly turned on by what was happening on that screen.”
He jackknifed to sitting, putting our faces six inches apart. “Getting a goddamn boner from watching a porn star doesn’t mean I’m okay with my wife being a porn star!”
“Excuuuse me? Did you really just call me a porn star?”
“I don’t know …” He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Did you sit on Graham’s face or his cock the very same day we met?”
I opened my mouth to spit more venom, but nothing came out. Instead, I deflated. “Oh my god …” I whispered. “What are we doing?”
That was easy—we were pissed off about other uncontrollable circumstances in our lives, and instead of facing them, making plans to survive them, we were throwing stupid punches over something as frivolous as Va-ness-uh karaoke. It was on me. I was the one in control of the situation. Ronin was simply reacting to jumbled pieces of the unknown.
I knew better. I had all the pieces.
Crawling onto his lap, I ran my fingers though his hair. He stiffened. I couldn’t blame him.
“I’m so sorry.” I kissed the corner of his mouth.
His head made a tiny jerk away from me.
Fair.
He had every right to feel upset and confused. Had the tables been turned, I would have been a tornado of emotions throwing shit like cell phones at his head.
“Graham didn’t touch me, and I didn’t touch him. He threw out some ridiculous idea about having a threesome as we were all in my bed in our pajamas. For the record, I didn’t invite them into my room. They came over and just piled into my bed when all I wanted to do was go to sleep and dream about this sexy guy I met that day.”
Ronin’s lips twitched, but he managed to keep them from bending into a smile.
“I was hugging the edge of the bed with my back to Lila and Graham on the other side of her when he—out of the blue—suggested a threesome. I said nothing because I didn’t take his stupid suggestion seriously. Then the next thing I knew he was touching Lila and Lila was touching me.”
Ronin’s right eyebrow worked its way up his forehead.
“She fondled my breasts and teased my nipples with her tongue ring; then I made a quick exit into the hallway before things went any further,” I spewed out the words as fast as I could.
Nodding slowly, Ronin narrowed his eyes. “What was Graham doing while Lila was doing this to you?”
I wrinkled my nose, not wanting to replay that night. “I … I don’t know. Touching her, touching himself.” I shook my head. “I don’t like to think about it.”
He wet his lips and scraped his top teeth along his bottom lip several times. “How did it feel?”
I choked out a laugh. “No. We are not discussing this. It’s not therapy. You now know it was nothing like what you were just watching. It was a weird moment between friends.”
“Lila seemed to recall those memories with a sort of fondness. I think she liked your nipples.” He took a quick glance at said nipples.
I grabbed the sheet to cover my chest. “So…” I squinted “…me sitting on any part of Graham’s body nearly sent you into killer mode, but Lila messing with my breasts simply makes you curious? Had it been Graham’s tongue on my nipples, why would that have not been okay?”
“I’m a guy.” He shrugged; a boyish grin climbed up his face.
“That’s such a pathetic excuse.”
He tugged on the sheet, pulling it away from my chest. “Let’s be clear …” His hands slid from my hips, over my ribs to my breasts.
“Clear about what?” I framed his face with my hands, brushing my thumb over his lips.
He smiled, following my thumb with his tongue. “I’m the only one who touches you.”
“You …” I replaced my thumb with my lips, seeking the familiar taste of my husband, the comfort of his hands, the shelter of his body pressed to mine.
Life wasn’t easy. It wasn’t always beautiful. Some days it was flat-out cruel.
But … it was undeniably worth it.
The next morning, I woke before Ronin, feeling the dawn of reality crushing against my chest. My birthday was over. Our bubble would burst any second. Life would test us once again.
“It’s too early to lift the weight of the world.”
I grinned, glancing over my shoulder as Ronin stretched. My feet dangled from the side of the bed, daring me to touch the ground. After a night of remembering all the reasons I said, “I do,” it was hard to take that next step. So … I just let my feet dangle for a few more minutes.
“It is a heavy burden, but I think I’ll lift one thing at a time.” I bit my lower lip and wrinkled my nose, not wanting to name that thing.
“I’ll take a few days off, just to get through the initial withdrawal. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to do this on an outpatient basis. As long as I take the meds they give me, attend the suggested counseling, and join a support group, it should go smoothly.”
Ronin made me so proud. Even in his weakest moment, he proved he was still my rock. Perfection wasn’t strength. Righting your wrongs took more strength than anything. You were lucky to dodge the hits. Getting back up after being knocked down showed immeasurable strength and courage.
“You’re my superhero.”
He returned a sad smile, sitting up and dangling his feet from the opposite side of the bed. “We have a few rough days ahead of us.”
Us.
Ronin knew it was, had been, and always would be us.
“We’ve got this. Just let me ski backward until you find your balance.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ronin
One month later …
Madeline died.
I got better, and then she died. It was as if the universe was waiting for me to be strong enough to take care of my wife during her grieving. I knew it would hit her hard, even with having so many months to emotionally prepare for the loss. However, no one imagined Corey’s reaction.
Evie’s dad didn’t shed one tear.
Not. One. Single. Tear.
Until … she stopped breathing.
That was why his reaction knocked
everyone back a few steps.
Graham made sure Katie got to Denver in time to be by her mom’s side along with Corey and Evelyn.
“I wouldn’t change a thing.” Those were Madeline’s last words.
Corey spent years being strong for her. So when he buckled over her lifeless body and wept, Katie and Evie left the room to give him his moment. They stood in the hallway and held each other, crying for him. Not for their mom—for him.
That was what we did. We grieved for the living, for those who still felt the pain, for those who would spend the rest of their lives desperately missing the ones who left us behind.
A week after the funeral, Corey packed one bag.
One. Single. Bag.
He left for California to be near Katie because she and Tanner were trying again to get pregnant, and he knew Madeline would have wanted him to help Katie the way they had helped us when Franz and Anya were babies. We felt certain he went back to California too because his parents were still alive, and he needed them. We never stopped needing our parents.
“You should take a few days and go through your mom’s stuff,” I suggested, playing on the floor with Anya and Franz while Evie did some bookkeeping on her laptop.
She shook her head. “I’m not ready. Dad said he’s in no hurry to put the house on the market. Besides, I want Katie to do it with me, and she has her mind on other things right now. Maybe if she gets pregnant and feels okay, we can go through everything. Maybe Dad will change his mind and decide to go through stuff with us.”
Madeline wanted her family to bury her and move on. I knew she never imagined them moving on by just abandoning her house and everything inside of it. But … it wasn’t my place to push anyone.
“Okay.” I perfected the agreeable husband role. We had survived a lot of monumental stuff, the other stuff just had to slide.
“Are you going to a meeting this afternoon?”
“Yes, dear.” I continued to do the work—followed doctor’s orders, never missed therapy, and attended group meetings once a week.
“I might take the kids to the library while you’re at your meeting. Then we can meet for dinner. How does that sound?”
