Because (Seven Year Itch #4) (16 page)

“I’m sorry.”

I reach over to take her hand, but she pulls away. “Why is it so hard to admit it’s over between us?”

The pain in her eyes only makes it worse to handle. “Because it’s never going to be over.”

She’s frustrated. The only way I’ve ever been able to emotionally reach her is with sex and that can’t happen anymore. I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know how to act or what to say next.

“I will never love anyone the way I love you. Look at me. I’m telling you the truth. I’m not a magician. I can’t turn off my feelings. I took you for granted. I wasn’t there for you. If you don’t love me anymore I get it, but don’t ever ask me to give up on you. It’s not going to happen.”

She lifts her phone up again. “I don’t know if I have a right to be jealous. It just shocked me. Even if you did talk to someone else, it’s not fair for me to judge you. I made it clear we were over.”

She’s killing me. Every time she opens her mouth my heart breaks. “I’m not ready to say goodbye. Even if you know for sure you’re done with me, I won’t give up. I don’t know how to do it, but I refuse to let you go. If being your friend is all I can be I’ll take it for now. Don’t give up on me, Shay.”

“I don’t want to, but you keep making it so damn difficult.”

I’m not sure who used my name to talk to some random chick, but I will get to the bottom of it.

She’s beginning to calm down. Her hands have stopped shaking. I take one and bring it up to my lips. She watches but doesn’t pull away. I keep her hand until I can tell it’s making her uncomfortable. “Can we start over?”

She shrugs. “I don’t see how. It’s not like we can forget the past fourteen minutes.”

“If I need to turn around and knock on the door again I will.”

She snickers. “That’s not necessary.”

I start to pull away from the shoulder of the road. “I’m taking you with me to the store. I promise to behave.”

“You’re not giving me a choice are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” She’s calmer. Maybe she’s given up trying to get away from me. Maybe she’s sick and tired of fighting about every little thing. Whatever has changed her mind I’m grateful for.

Nothing can prepare two newly separated people from the awkwardness they will experience when walking into an adult store. From the second I enter I know this isn’t going to end well.

Chapter 24

I’m carrying a basket around, prepared to fill it full of items for a party I don’t plan on attending. I wasn’t even invited, but after fighting with Brandon and seeing how much he seemed to feel confused, I’m forced to put our differences aside to prove we can get along. This isn’t just about letting go of the past and moving forward, it’s more about accepting the things neither of us can change and finding a way to coexist. We obviously love each other. That’s never been our problem. It’s everything else we can’t seem to figure out.

While trying to keep my composure, my mind is stuck on who I could have been talking to this whole time if it wasn’t Brandon. I’ve never seen him so adamant. It’s crippling me to see him upset, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to ever let go of the way I still care for him.

Brandon wastes no time once we enter the establishment. He starts grabbing huge dildos and tossing them into the small basket. I notice they have suction cups on the ends. “Please tell me you’re kidding?”

“What? You said I need favors. What chick doesn’t want a big dildo to take home?”

I laugh. It’s hysterical the way he’s able to say it without cracking a smile. “I think I’m the only one who needs one of them in my bedside table. Put them back. Just keep the blue one.”

“Does it remind you of me?” He asks, while doing what I request.

“No. It’s much bigger in size. I’ll let you know if there are any comparisons after I use it tonight.” I march past him as if I’m being serious. I have no intentions of buying this huge toy, but he doesn’t have to know it. Since we’ve already gotten into a heated argument I’m determined to put on a cheerful smile and let go of what is bothering me. For the time being I have Brandon’s attention. He wants to be with me, and I’m in no danger of falling victim to his charm in this type of store. Surrounded by sex objects, I find comfort in knowing it makes him completely uncomfortable.

He’s reading packages and shaking his head, while I find penis balloons, plates and cups with hairy bushes and even candy in the shape of sexual organs. I find Brandon in the clothing section. He’s holding up a package of a little G-string thong decorated like a tuxedo. “I’m thinking of wearing this to the wedding. What do you think?”

I cover my mouth to avoid cackling loudly. “You’re insane. I dare you.”

He pretends to consider it and swiftly hangs the item back in it’s designated place. Next he picks up a book titled, Being a Better Lover. He pretends to flip through the pages as if he’s speed reading. I jerk the book from his hands and place it back on the shelf. “We need to go if we’re going to make it home in time to get Ab off the bus.”

He nods and takes the basket from my hands, digging through to pull out the dildo I asked him to save for me. “You won’t be needing this,” he says.

“What? How would you know?”

“Because we’re friends now. Friends help friends. I’m just a call away.”

I shove him and walk to the register. I say nothing as he pays for the merchandise and carries the bags out to his Mustang. He tosses them in the trunk and rushes over the open the passenger door for me.

“You’ve got to be kidding, Bran. Do you seriously think I’d consider having sex with you?”

“Why not? It’s one thing we always did right. I’d rather you be with me than anyone else.”

“We’re not having this discussion.”

“Fine. The offer still stands though. I’m available twenty-four-seven.”

Just when he says it I get a notification on my text app that I’ve received a message. I quickly go to it knowing it couldn’t be from Brandon. I’ve been with him this whole time.

I’ve been thinking about you. How are you?

“Bran, you’re not going to believe this. I just got a message from you.”

“I told you it wasn’t me.”

Now I feel like an asshole. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Because you know me. I made mistakes in the past. I admitted to talking to girls online, but I’ve never cheated on you. Whoever this person is, it’s not me. I meant what I said to you. I want to reconcile. I won’t take you for granted.”

“I’m going to ignore the message.”

“Good. Hopefully they’ll go away. I don’t want my perfect name out there on that site.”

He’s ridiculous to a fault. “I’m sorry for earlier,” I offer. “Some feelings are hard to control. I’d like it if we could be friends, Bran. I hate having to avoid each other. I miss you. I don’t regret the choice I made to leave. I think it was necessary. We were in a bad place. We were at war with each other, with ourselves even.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

I extend my hand to shake his. “Friends?”

“For now,” he replies.

“You’re not going to make this transition easy?”

“Transition? I’m not transitioning. I’m following my heart.”

“Oh for goodness sakes. Not that again,” I tease.

He winks at me. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He laughs before continuing. “I’m kidding. I’m happy to be your friend, Shay. I’m miserable being nothing, so this is a good start.”

Talking about being friends was all fine and dandy, though I was kidding myself if I thought I could be around my husband and not want more. In the time we’ve been living apart I’ve been able to see how many of our problems were created by me alone. Brandon played his part in a lot too, but most were only because my suspicions led me to believe otherwise. Truth be told, Brandon is a hard worker. He’s always taken care of me, and I love him for that. Given the amount of time I spent dwelling on what can’t be changed, I’m certain falling right back into our old ways would be a lot easier than tiptoeing around the idea of indifference.

I’d like to think time heals all wounds, but how much time is needed? When is enough, enough? When life gives you lemons do you make lemonade or run to the grocery store and trade them in for something better?

People may not approve of my actions or the way I handle my marriage. They might think I’m weak or psychotic. Imagine loving someone to the brink of losing yourself. Then imagine that love being ripped away from you. That’s where my fear derives from. It’s a painful reality I’ve somehow learned to accept and live with. It’s something I’ll have to work on every day until I die.

Brandon is my kryptonite. As much as I know he might be bad for me, I crave more. I need it, because nothing else can give me what he does.

It’s weird when we pull up at the house. I’m not sure if I should rush out of the car, just say goodbye, hug him, or something more. We’ve agreed to be friends. What does that mean between two people who have shared so much? Is it possible to have a non-sexual relationship when two people are extremely attracted to one another and had an intimate past? I’m lost.

“So, I guess I’ll go before the bus gets here. I don’t want Ab to be confused.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“We’ve talked about a bunch of things in the past hour. I need to be sure you’re still going to come to the wedding.”

“I said I’d be there.”

“And the party tonight?”

“Count me out. I think it’s best if we steer clear of each other until the big event.”

I can tell he’s not pleased. Brandon is simple-minded. He expects problems to go away quickly. I knew this when I agreed to a friendship. Of course he’d assume I’d jump right in bed with him. “I look forward to Saturday.”

“I was thinking I might not be able to pick you up. Do you think you and Ab could drive there and then I’ll leave with you guys?” He pauses for a second. “Or I’ll just catch a ride with my parents if you don’t feel like dropping me off.”

“I can drive. It’s fine.”

Before I know it’s happening he’s kissing me on the cheek. “We might be a mess when we’re together, but it’s a beautiful mess. Don’t stand me up on Saturday, Shay.”

I go to get out of the car and stop to ask a question. “Would you want this if I looked the way I used to?”

He seems irritated I’d ask it. “You already know the answer to that question, babe.”

Do I? Is the truth in my heart and I just refuse to accept it? If it is I don’t know myself the way I think I do. It’s necessary to reevaluate my life again, and this time with a positive attitude instead of the old one that only promises a lifetime of regret and loneliness.

“But you hated me?”

“Sometimes. You hated me too.”

“I did. I still do,” I manage with a giggle.

“Yeah, but as much as you hate me, you love me more.” He pulls away, leaving me to stew in his last words. He’s right. If nothing else, he knows me better than I know myself.

I spend the rest of the evening pondering on life; where I want to be and if I see Brandon as a part of it. One thing is for certain, I can’t stop loving him. Imagining divorce only breaks my heart. I look into my daughter’s eyes and see some things are worth fighting for, but I also know there are still things I have yet to figure out. A part of me wants to trust him. I owe him a second chance, but not if it risks all the hard work I’ve done to find myself again. He has to love me for me, instead of the person I’ve turned into. Time is on my side. I have plenty of it. I don’t have to make a decision today or the day after. If a second chance will ever come for us, I’ll be sure about it.

First things first.

Aberdeen and I wake up early to go to the hair salon. While she gets her hair curled and fingernails painted, I’m making another drastic change. When we leave, hours later, I’m nervous and insecure again. I’m not sure I’ve made the right decision. Instead of spending my whole paycheck on a dress, my friend Char has agreed to lend me something special. We drive to her house so I can check it out and see if it fits me. I’m still working on losing the last ten pounds I need to reach my goal, but I’m down several sizes already.

Char laughs when she sees what I’ve done to my hair. “It suits you.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you ready to see the dresses I picked out?”

Char and I have different taste in EVERYTHING. I’m nervous to see what she thinks I can pull off, but I follow her anyway, determined to put my fears aside.

It’s an afternoon wedding, so black is probably out. I keep that in mind when I round the corner to her bedroom and see a whole lot of red.

She walks over to the bed and tosses me the first dress. I can tell it’s long and going to be tight. It’s strapless and as I examine it I notice the hemline comes up to my upper thigh on one side. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Hurry up. I have five more in case that one doesn’t work out.”

“It’s beautiful, but I don’t know if it’s right for my figure.”

“Do you have any idea how much weight you’ve lost already? Plus your boobs are huge. You’ll rock that shit. Trust me. It’s my favorite choice.”

Five minutes later I’m standing in front of the mirror looking at a reflection I most certainly don’t recognize. “Wow,” I mumble.

“Wow is right. It’s even better than I hoped. Brandon is going to go crazy when he sees you in it.”

“It’s not a date,” I remind her.

She slaps my ass. “Keep telling yourself that, Shay. The only thing Brandon will be thinking is how he’s going to take it off.”

“You’re terrible.” Aberdeen comes in the room. Her eyes light up when she sees me in the dress.

“Mom, you look pretty.”

“Do you think so? Should I try on something else?”

“No,” they both say at the same time.

I haven’t been this dressed up since my own wedding and I’m a bit uncomfortable. The dress is form fitting until the very bottom where it flairs out. It’s low cut around the bust. Char places a necklace on me and stands back to admire it. “Yeah, that’s better.” She hands me a pair of earrings. “Here, put these on.”

I do as I’m told and look in the mirror again. “This is too much.”

“It’s perfect. You look amazing. Now, sit down in my magic chair and let me do your makeup.”

“What? No. I can manage it myself.”

“I insist. Come on, be pampered for once. You deserve this. You’ve worked your ass off to look this way. Brandon doesn’t know what he has if he doesn’t think so when he sees you.”

“I appreciate the pep talk, but I could fall flat on my face if I have to wear heels.”