So Much It Hurts (35 page)

As they say, the days were long, but the years were short. Eli had grown like a weed the last five years and was nearly as tall, if not taller, than me. And Ethan…well, I cried all the way home the day he started Kindergarten. By that point, I had been a stay-at-home mom for eleven years. I hardly knew what to do that first full day by myself. After a few days, I learned to appreciate the peace and quiet. But after several boring weeks, I decided to fill the void by returning to college to work on a Master’s degree in Social Work. Still in the application process, I hoped I would be accepted so I could start classes the following semester.

I’d like to say our lives were perfect from the moment Michael told me he forgave me. They weren’t—not by a long shot—but we made it. We were
still
making it. After that summer, we resumed our normal everyday lives. Michael focused on his accounting work, while I stayed home to raise our children. However, I guess I could say we lived our lives with a whole new perspective. We loved more, forgave more, and talked more in general. Michael started making a conscious effort to spend more time with us and less time in his home office. However, he still managed to eat the occasional dinner in front of his computer, coming to bed well after midnight. He even missed the boys’ ball games from time to time due to working late on a project, but for the most part, he made every effort to be there for them—for us.

I learned to tolerate Michael’s personal assistant, Bridget, and eventually grew to love her.
A recent college graduate, she was in the process of dropping that stereotypical sorority girl image, and trying to make her way in the business world. Bridget became Michael’s biggest asset in his workplace, helping him earn a promotion and a three percent raise that first year. I met Bridget, in person, at a company picnic that same summer five years ago. Surprisingly, we hit it off immediately. Turns out, she was just one of those sweet southern girls you wanted to hate, and couldn’t help but like. She has since moved on to a corporate accounting job in another city, and Michael has had countless other interns as assistants. However, our argument over Bridget and his newfound respect for our marriage has kept Michael from blurring the personal and professional lines again with anyone at his workplace.

Our marriage was a constant work in progress—something I wish we had figured out years ago. But, the last five years had been the best years of our marriage, and we were about two months away from celebrating our twelfth wedding anniversary. So I guess, all in all, we had made a pretty good run of it.

“We’ll need milk, too,” I said absently as we stood in front of the cereal aisle at the grocery store one day.

Turning to Michael, I asked, “Would you mind going to grab some milk and eggs? Oh yeah, you might as well grab butter and cheese while you’re over there, too.”

“At your service, ma’am,” he laughed, while giving me his best military salute.

“Very funny,” I said with a straight face. Hoping to get this trip to the store over with as quickly as possible, I ordered, “Milk, eggs, butter, and cheese. Got that?”

“Got it, Sarge,” he teased as he clicked his heels, maintaining his salute. The boys giggled beside me.

“Daddy’s silly!” Ethan exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes and despite my efforts not to, I grinned at Michael. His sense of humor reminded me of why I fell in love with him in the first place. Michael took off toward the dairy section in the back corner of the grocery store, while I turned my attention back to the boys.

“Can I get that box?” Ethan asked as he pointed to a colorful box of sugar laden corn cereal.

I sighed. “Sure, why not?”

I looked at Eli, who at the age of eleven was a half inch taller than me now, which isn’t saying much considering I’m only five feet tall on a good day. I asked him to reach the fiber concentrated cereal on the top shelf—the cereal that resembled miniscule bales of hay—while Ethan happily selected the bright and colorful box with the cartoon rabbit on the front that was strategically placed at his eye level.

“Thanks, sweetie,” I said as Eli handed the box to me. I placed it into my cart and continued to push my way toward the next aisle.

Eli grabbed one of the tabloid magazines near the register as we passed by the rack. “Look, mom.” He held the cover of the magazine in front of my face so I could read the words in the headline.

A collage of several photos of him with a different girl every night glared up at me from the cover.

“Isn’t that the guy from our hometown?” Eli asked as he pointed to a picture of Chris with some large breasted, blonde bombshell sitting on his lap at a party.

“Humph,” I grunted. “Yeah, put that back. We’ve got to finish getting what’s on my list,” I said, trying to downplay Chris’s fame and hide my anguish.

I usually tried to avoid any press coverage of Chris King. Just seeing his picture on the cover of the tabloids messed with my head. Mr. ChrisRocknRollKing became a sensation overnight, and by the looks of those photos, he seemingly forgot just as quickly his father’s advice to stay on the right track. Chris King was no longer a priority in my heart. He had his life, and I had mine. My boys were my life.

“Mommy?”

I looked down at Ethan as he tugged on my pants leg.

“What sweetheart?”

Only Ethan didn’t answer. He just stood there, staring.

“What is it?” I asked again.

Ethan still only stood there, staring straight ahead. I shook my head and glanced back down to see the next item written on my grocery list. Dragging two children around at the grocery store, my patience wore very thin. I was just trying to concentrate on getting in, getting my groceries, and getting out, with very few distractions.

“Mom,” Eli said in a hushed tone.

“What now?” In that moment, I looked up to see someone walking toward us, smiling.

Although he was still twenty feet away, I knew it was
him
. It had been six long years, but you don’t forget a face that easily.

Eli looked down at the tabloid, and looked back up again. He did that several times before he finally whispered, “Mom, is that—?”

“Yes,” I interrupted.

With stars in his eyes, Eli finally accepted the fact that the lead singer of
Fifth Wheel
was walking straight toward us.

Chris smiled. My heart immediately jump started in my chest.
Omigod, omigod, omigod.
In my mind, I sounded like a silly fan girl, although I could barely hear myself think over the pounding of my heart. I almost looked around for a place to hide. Instead, I pinched myself.
Yep. I’m awake.

Chris strolled up to us without a care in the world, as if he weren’t the same rock star celebrity that was plastered all over the cover of every magazine on the shelf.

He stopped in front of my cart, slipped his hands into his pockets, and said, “Hi, Kaitlyn.” He pulled the corner of his mouth up into that dreamy grin he had become so accustomed to giving to the paparazzi that followed him everywhere he went. I wondered where the paparazzi were hiding and why they weren’t clicking the camera in our faces yet.

“Hi,” I said, dropping my chin and grinning bashfully while my cheeks flared.
Get a hold of yourself, Kaitlyn
.

“It’s been a while,” he acknowledged, with a quick nod of his head. His beautiful eyes stared deeply into mine.
Stop staring.

“It has.” My mind seemed to have forgotten how to function as I tried in vain to form sentences that were more than just one or two words long.

I tried to ignore his
sexy,
seductive
(ugh)
charming grin.

“How have you been?” he asked.

Brain, work!
Speak.
“Pretty good. What are you doing back in town? Don’t you have a concert soon?” I asked when my brain finally shook itself from the dizzying fog.

“We do, but I figured while we were passing through town on the way to Charlotte that I’d stop in and see my mom. So like a typical mother, she sent me to the grocery store for some food and to the pharmacy for her meds. Leave it to my mom to keep me grounded.”

I laughed. Chris smiled warmly. My heart did somersaults in my chest.
Mayday, Mayday, Mayday!

“Are these your children?” He glanced at Eli and Ethan, but quickly caught my gaze again.

“Yes,” I said, putting my hand on Eli’s shoulder. “This is Eli. He’s eleven now.” Finally, I was managing sentences longer than two words. I breathed a sigh of relief as Chris held his hand out to Eli.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Chris gripped Eli’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

“You too, Mr. King,” Eli said, smiling with a star-struck glimmer in his eyes.

Chris laughed a deep hearty laugh that tingled its way up my spine. “Please, call me Chris.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Chris.” Eli continued shaking his hand, completely enamored by this famous musician whose songs he had downloaded on his iPod and could recite every word.

Chris just continued to chuckle, then patted him on the shoulder. “Just Chris is fine, young man. Your manners are impeccable.” Chris looked back at me. “You must be so proud of him.”

I nodded. “Couldn’t be more proud.”

Just then, Chris looked down at Ethan and tousled his brown hair on top of his head. “And who’s this little fella?”

Ethan looked up at him and grinned. “Hi,” he said happily.

I put my arm around my sweet, brown eyed boy. “This is Ethan. He’s five years old.”

Ethan glared at me as if I had committed a cardinal sin. “I’m five and a half!” he demanded.

I chuckled. “Excuse me, he’s five and half.”

“Well,” Chris bent down to look at Ethan on his level, “you’re a handsome little five and a half year old.”

Now that Chris was standing right in front of Ethan, the similarities were astounding. Michael had always said Ethan looked just like my side of the family, but seeing Chris and Ethan together made me question our decision
not
to administer a DNA test. Both of them stared at each other with dark brown hair that flipped out on the ends; both had dark brown eyes and thick black eyelashes. With their tan skin, they never had to worry about getting sunburned. Their similarities were so unlike Eli, whose fair features took after Michael’s side of the family. I soaked in the image. Could it be that father and son were meeting each other for the first time, with neither of them knowing their possible relationship to each other? My stomach churned.
Maybe Michael and I should revisit the idea of a DNA test.

Chris looked at me. I wondered if he could read my mind. He stood back up and placed his hand on my grocery cart. After several glances at both boys, his gaze shifted back to me, piercing me with those chocolate brown eyes that always kept me swooning what seemed like a lifetime ago. As if a light bulb switched on in his mind, a sudden awareness crossed his face; the cloud of confusion immediately lifted. The look in Chris’s eyes was unexplainable. Was it hurt? Anger? Fear? Happiness? A combination of many emotions swirled themselves around in his beautiful brown irises. He pursed his lips, attempting to hide a pained smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it still didn’t detract from the other emotions flooding his eyes.