Winter Blues (14 page)

22

Darlene

Morning breezes by in a gale of rare politeness as neither of us mentions last night’s theatrics, not even as I clean up the sorry mess Reid had left.

My poor flowers.

Any anxiety I harbored was soothed the moment I woke up in Reid’s arms. His slept in skin was an instant relaxant to my stubborn nerves.

Reid insists that he can go into work a little later than normal and after much persuasion he tempts me to go running with him. We’ve r
un together before, but I just don’t feel it like he does. He finds it therapeutic while I find it a chore. My barely worn running shoes glow a bright white next to the grey pavement at my feet while the dark sky threatens to rain, only adding to my reluctance. 

“You have to stretch, Darl
. You’ll feel it more if you don’t.”

I roll my eyes but copy Reid as he stretches his muscles in turn, a look of amusement glued to his face. “You don’t have to look so happy,” I snide.

“I
am
happy. Running will give us more time together. We can do it every morning. It’ll be good for us, you’ll see.”

I force a smile as I wonder if the extra exercise will allow me more chips.

Half hour later and Reid has to practically carry me home. I’m breathless and wet while he looks completely unscathed. We make our way up to our apartment, in the elevator of course, and I throw Reid a look of annoyance. I don’t tell him that despite how my body feels like it has just been abused in every way, there is something akin to contentment in my mind.

It was nice to see Reid so peaceful. He looks so much younger without the glasses he uses for work and with his hair left un-styled. Besides, I do feel a little more alive having used my lungs for something other than singing
or sobbing.

Reid showers quickly
and leaves for work, that lopsided grin fixed to his face. In his absence I shower and enjoy a well-earned hot chocolate, with cream,
and
marshmallows. I savor the peace that has come after the storm of last night, but as the reminder ravishes through my mind I remember that an explanation is owed.

I reach for my bag and rummage for my phone. After sending an apologetic text message to Veda last night
, explaining that I’d gone home feeling ill, I had turned it off and that is how it has remained until now. It comes alive with voicemails and texts and I chew on my lip as I receive them. Blue is outraged that I left without telling him, but then his outrage gives in to worry. I almost feel bad but then there is a knock on the door to relieve my remorse.

The only knocks on our door comes from maintenance and since our maintenance guy is a small, overly wrinkled, old man I open the door with no hesitance. I shut it again immediately, but there is a foot wedged between the door and the frame.

“Leave, Blue!”

“Just let me in, Darlene!”

“No!”

“This conversation would draw a lot less attention in there!”

Panic defeats my resolve as I wonder what on earth the neighbors would think of a man shouting at me from the hall. I reluctantly let him in and back away. I don’t like him being here. It feels more traitorous than anything we have ever done.

I want him out, now.

“Why did you leave last night?” he asks as he closes the door softly behind him.

“Why do you think?”

Shaking his head, he steps closer. “I’m not going to let you feel ashamed for us. He doesn’t fucking deserve you, Pilgrim.”

“
You know nothing about what he deserves! Stop acting like this is okay, because it’s not. And it’s not going to happen anymore.”

He steps forward aga
in, challenging me with those damn puppy dog eyes. He has no intention of making this easy for me but I’ll be damned if I give in to him, not here.

“You say that but you don’t mean it,” he says with genuine belief.

“Oh, I mean it. I’m not pandering to your advances anymore. I’m not part of your game. I’m not a prize or a challenge. I’m married and what we are doing is sick. You being here is sick, and I want you to leave.”
              “Is that all you think you are to me...?”

“I know that’s what I am. We’re fucking, remember?” I declare, contradicting what I previously said but not caring. I need him to not want me anymore and if this is how to do it then so be it.

“No, that’s not what we’re about. I’ve never fucked you.”

“Seriously? What do you call last night? Screwing
against the bathroom wall of a bar is not making love, Blue.”

“That’s called passion! Does Reid give you that?” I step back in disgust until my back meets the pillar that divides the kitchen. Blue steps with me, yet again caging me in. He is a true predator.

“Reid
loves
me.” I sound each word slowly, pointedly, and watch as his face pinches in frustration.

“Maybe I...” His hooded eyes descend over my body and it is only now that
I realize I am still in my bathrobe after my shower. I’m panting as I see his intentions but not out of anticipation, out of anger. His hands, so capable of magic, reach out and tug at the belt, opening my gown.

He doesn’t get chance to appreciate what lies beneath because I strike him hard across the face.

The sound curses the air and my hand tingles from the impact. Blue looks hurt. Not because my weedy arms can pack a punch, but because I have dismissed his attempt so harshly. He backs up and I see that I’ve split his lip. I feel terrible and empowered all at once. I have never struck anyone in my life!

My adrenaline peaks and I push him even further away, leaving me enou
gh room to cover myself and move past him to the door. I wait impatiently for Blue to follow but he simply stands there in shock.

As I wait for him to respond I allow myself a mental high five. I have put my foot down in the most dramatic
of ways and I feel proud of myself. I hate to think of Blue hurt but he has completely overstepped the mark. How dare he intrude unwanted into my apartment, mine and
Reid’s
apartment!

“Did you watch Reid leave?”

“What?” he asks, still in shock.

“DID YOU WATCH REID LEAVE?” I shout, my strength finally present and sticking around.

“Yes.”

“And so you thought you would come and keep his bed warm?” He rolls his eyes and I almost smack him again. “Get out.”

He doesn’t move.

“GET OUT!”

Blue stares at me for far too long before he leaves, slamming the door in his wake. I grip the pillar for support, my adrenaline having left with him. As weak as I feel I still have the strength to smile. My actions in no way make up for the damage that has already been done, I know that. But all is not lost.

You can grow flowers from dirt.

I have taken the first step to rectifying my massive mistake. This affair was born from my dissatisfaction I found in my marriage and it shall die from its rejuvenation.

After an eventful morning what I really need is a relaxing afternoon, and that’s exactly what I plan on having. I am not to stress about Blue, or Reid for that matter. I am to concentrate on me, and building myself a life beyond the two of them, because inevitably, that is the core of my issues.

I contemplate a pampering day, nails and hair especially
, seems as though both have been heavily neglected since I got here. When Reid calls to invite me to a work event this weekend he gives me the perfect excuse. I’m delighted to have been asked since I can’t remember the last time I got to play dress-up. I wonder if he would’ve asked me a few days ago or whether this is him ‘trying’. Either way, I’m happy.

I’m less happy that he has invited himself to my gig tomorrow night at
The Nest
. Of course, I was not planning on attending. Punching Blue in the mouth kind of secured that. But he sounded so excited to see me perform and he insisted so heavily about walking down with me that I couldn’t bring myself to deny him. Besides, what excuse could I really have for refusing the gig now? As far as Reid is concerned everything is going great with Blue and the bar. If only he really knew the depth of how not great it is.

I dress q
uickly and catch the El for Michigan Avenue in the hope of securing an outfit as well as a long overdue beautification. I’m lucky to find somewhere that does both hair and nails and when I leave I feel completely rejuvenated. I find a perfect cocktail dress and I splurge on new shoes, cringing as I use my plastic, knowing damn well how thin my savings are, but after everything, I can’t muster the audacity to use our joint account. Not when Reid’s is the only salary filling it.

It’s late in the day when I head home. I’d ordinarily pick up something for dinner but Reid instructed me that he was going to order in for us. I wish he wouldn’t, not when I know he will order pizza and I now have a very tight dress to fit into come Saturday.

I’m practically hopping down the street before I realize that I have to walk past
The Nest
in order to get home. I cross the road and move quickly but I can’t stop myself from looking. I don’t have to look very far because Blue is standing outside with Veda, sucking on a cigarette. Veda smiles and turns her body to me as if expecting me to walk over. I wave pathetically before pointing to my watch and shrugging. I see Blue scoff at my avoidance but I don’t care. Nothing can ruin the happiness that I have forced upon myself.

I have checked off everything a girl needs to be satisfied. Pampering, check. Shopping, check. A liquid
lunch, check. All I need is a drama-free night with Reid. I can’t expect more than that. A peaceful night in front of the TV would be heaven compared to what has been shared between us recently, or more appropriately, what hasn’t.

My key rattles in the lock of our apartment door and when I open it I am surprised to see the room already lit. Not from above but from the line of candles that flicker across
the dining table. Reid is standing beside the display, bathing in the amber glow, wearing tan slacks and an olive green shirt that makes his eyes snap. His hair is styled high to perfection and he is holding a bottle of my favorite wine. He’s smiling, but it is bridled with nerves.

“Reid...” I whisper, my voice having been stolen by my surprise.

“Welcome home, Darl.”

My smile comes thick and fast as he gestures for me to take a seat. I leave my bags at the door and do as I’m told. As Reid pours me a glass of wine I inspect our surroundings. Along with the candles
, the table is adorned with rose petals and our wedding china, the smell of tomatoes and garlic trails in from the kitchen, and Mumford and Sons serenade us through the stereo.

I fight back the b
iting guilt that reminds me how I don’t deserve this attentiveness, and smile appreciatively as Reid kisses my hand. He needs this. We both really need this. I’m aware of how romantic Reid is, how he has learned from many literary masters what romance truly means and that his over indulgence was nothing unusual in our early years together. I guess life just got in the way. This is a perfect reminder.

“You finished work early to do this?” I ask before taking a sip of my wine.

“I took the afternoon off.”

I’m completely surprised. “They let you?”

“They’ve agreed to loosen the leash a little. I’m getting an assistant,” he declares. His smile is broad and proud and my heart does a little skip for him. This is a big step and it could mean huge things for us.

“That’s amazing, Reid. Are we celebr
ating?” I gesture to the splendor around us.

“No. We’re reminiscing.” Bobbing his head
, he looks as if he is explaining to himself rather than me. “We’re falling in love again.”

I place my wine down.
“Reid, I already love you.”

“Not enough.” He doesn’t mumble his words and there is no shame in them. He’s not challenging me, he’s just being honest.

“How much more do you want?”

He crouches before me, cupping my face as if he doesn’t already have my undivided attention. “I want all of it. I’m not sharing you.” Alarm n
udges me as fleeting panic runs through my body.

Not sharing me?

Does he know about Blue?

It’s impossible. I’ve been so careful. When his lips meet mine I deduce that he doesn’t. My bags would be packed and outside the front door if he knew. His lips persuade mine to open and I forget about everything other than his tongue against mine. I’m reminded of how perfectly we fit together as he dances the same dance I do. He pulls away, leaving me breathless.

“Not that I want to break this up, but dinner’s going to burn if I don’t stop,” he says, just as breathless as me. I smile in response and watch as he goes to serve our food.

We eat in between a flowing conversation. Reid enlightens me about what has been occurring at work and I talk about how excited I am for my new job, even if it is so damn long away. He asks me about what I plan to sing tomorrow and I ask him if he has any requests. I love that everything he suggests is country.