Winter Blues (23 page)

36

Reid

I left Darlene in bed this morning, foregoing our usual run. She must have been exhausted after last night because she didn’t even flinch as I kissed her head and left for work. I wish she had been awake so I could have comforted her some more.

Last night was difficult. I went to bed tired, both physically and mentally, and yet I couldn’t sleep a wink. When I w
oke in the night and realized Darlene wasn’t sharing our bed I sought her out in her damn chair. A wave of annoyance had coursed through me before I saw her tear-ridden face, her cheeks damp and caked in dried black makeup around her eyes. Why does she try and hide this side of herself from me?

I understand her tears, I feel her upset and mirror her concerns, but I can’t tell her that. So instead, I’ve remained quiet for fear of saying something I shouldn’t. In all honesty, I don’t know what to say. I love Darlene and I don’t want this to end us, but I don’t know how we can overcome this.

Part of me is annoyed that Darlene would even consider going through with the pregnancy without telling me of the affair, but then I’m also in agreement with her. I don’t want to have that conversation because I know where it will lead. However, without that conversation we will both be living a lie; her lying to me about who the father may be and me lying about how much I actually know.

I guess in nine months time we would know anyway. Blue and I couldn’t look more different. His black hair to my fair. His dark skin and dark eyes to my naturally pale skin and green eyes. It would be obvious immediately. I don’t know how we would cope with that level of anticipation and possible upset.

Then, to factor in Blue himself.

Would she tell him?

I can’t bear the thought of them ever even speaking again let alone discussing the possibility of raising a child together.

Damn it. I’ve got to stop thinking about this. I’ve done
jack shit at work and it’s almost two o’clock. I really shouldn’t have come in at all. There’s so much that needs to be discussed with Darlene and I don’t want us to wait so long that the impending conversation becomes too daunting to actually have. We should be having it now, before the test is even done.

“I need the confirmed manuscripts by end of day,” James calls from the door to my office.

“Sure thing,” I answer, attempting to look like I am busy at my computer. He nods but says nothing more before leaving. Things are strained between us since all that happened at the benefit but I’m not worried. From the talk I have been hearing round the office I am the only one excelling expectations in his department, and if anyone’s job is being questioned it’s his. No wonder I have been so overrun with work; I’m the only one he’s giving it to.

Things really could pick up for me here, and with Darlene’s new job fast approaching I really thought we were on our way out of this bumpy detour. The marriage we had once had was back in sight and now it feels
even further away.

Mentally and physically, I am closer to Darlene now than maybe I have ever been. The vacation reall
y was everything we needed. But it’s the circumstance that could see the end of us.

If we let it, anyway.

Worst case scenario is that she is pregnant and that I am not the father. I don’t know how I could possibly prepare for that but I also don’t know how I would begin to turn my back on her. I’d accepted the affair and I was prepared to move on from it, and this is just an extension of that, right? If I was able to learn to accept the affair then perhaps I could learn to accept what may very well be the outcome of it.

Could I raise another man’s child?

Would Darlene even let me?

Or would it be the
excuse she needs to run back to Blue?

Would he want her?

The thought alone would be enough to kill me if the overwhelming need to never let that happen wasn’t enough to distract me. I can’t let her be with anyone else and if that means travelling down another path to get to our happy ever after then so be it.

I scrape by what remains of the day at the office, barely able to concentrate on the manuscripts that I chose for James to pursue their authors. I’m out the door the second I’m able to and driving with determination.

Once home opening the door is a struggle with my work bag in one arm and the biggest bouquet of flowers I could find in the other. I had to bribe the store to let me in after I caught them closing their shutters and I still paid over the odds for these flowers. But knowing that they may produce a genuine smile from Darlene makes the price and effort irrelevant. She didn’t seem so pleased with the last couple of bouquets I’d gifted her.

I find Darlene playing her guitar on the couch, her back to me.

“Hi,” she calls as her fingers continue to strum, and then she continues humming along to a familiar tune. She’s played it before, but never this melancholically.

“Hi,” I greet. “What song is this?”

“Will you still love me tomorrow? Winehouse’s version, not The Shirelle’s.”

I wonder at the significance when I see the little paper bag from the pharmacy. Unopened. She’s yet to turn around so I’m free to close my eyes and breathe a little respite.

“I haven’t cooked. I thought we could just order pizza tonight.”

“Great,” I reply, knowing that she only ever orders pizza when she is trying to please me. “Shall I put these in water?”

Turning in confusion, Darlene’s eyes find the flowers before they find me. A smile sweeter than any rose blooms over her features, her eyes twinkling in harmony. Placing Cash down, she moves from the couch and walks to me. She takes the flowers, sniffing them with closed eyes before lingering at my side and gazing at me adoringly.

“They’re absolutely beautiful, Reid. Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

Her smile broadens and she turns to l
ay them on the counter. Leaning over, she rummages in the draw to find some scissors. Her ass is enticing me, inches from my hand and bound in a tight jersey skirt that sits at her knees.

Only now do I see my kryptonite.

She’s barefoot. In my kitchen. And...

“What’s the occasion?”
she calls over her shoulder, standing up and cutting away the paper from the bouquet.

I link my arm around her waist and bury my face into her thick,
vanilla-fragranced hair. “The occasion is…I’m home, you’re home, and we’re exactly where we should both be.”

“I don’t think flowers are standard protocol for that,” she whispers, a little giggle slipping off the end of her words when my tongue tastes that magic place below her ear.

“Oh, really? What is then?”

Turning ever so slowly, she drops the scissors onto the counter, freeing her hands up to run them over my chest and up to my face. She li
fts my glasses and folds them, sliding them into my jacket pocket. Biting her lip and shrugging innocently, she looks up at me from beneath her thick lashes. “A kiss,” she answers. Impossibly soft lips press briefly to my cheek before she hovers over my parted lips invitingly.

“I can manage that.”

Holding her head in both of my hands I bring her onto her toes. The faintest moan escapes her lips as my tongue glides with hers. Her body drops, weak from the sudden chemistry that’s thick in the air between us, so in one quick movement I lift her onto the counter of the breakfast bar. With elbows rested on my shoulders, her delicate fingers run circles in my hair. Watching her intently, I notice her smile falter briefly.

My hands had already begun pulling up her skirt so that it sits around her waist, but I stop. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice breathy with anticipation. She nods and touches her forehead to mine. “We don’t have to...I just...you look beautiful and I...”

“I want this,” she whispers, moving herself to the very edge of the worktop. “I need this, please.”

Not one to deny my wife,
I kiss away the sadness that I see in her eyes. I coat her mouth with my love before moving to her favorite spot on her neck. She makes light work of leaving me shirtless before reaching to undo my pants. The shared need for this is building, our fingers become less agile as the desperation sores. I manage to pull off her shirt and rejoice in the fact that she is bra-less. My hands fit her breasts like they were made in unison and I know how to work them as if they are an extension of me. Pink buds immediately harden at my touch and I can’t resist tasting them while I pull her panties down her legs.

“I want you so badly.
Please be ready for me, baby.”

She nods frantically, sighing, “I am, I am.”

My fingers make sure, gliding over her tight stomach, forgetting anything that could be in there. They slide into her easily and she clenches so responsively around them. Adding another finger, I curl them gently and she breaks out a needy moan.

I could come right now.

Dropping my slacks to the floor along with my boxer shorts, I tease her opening until her feet push against my ass, telling me to hurry up. I can’t help but smile. Knowing I can get her so worked up is the biggest turn on ever.

I bury into her slow, getting as deep as I can with the added pressure of her legs around my backside. “Please, Reid,” she beckons
and I oblige, moving faster, spurred on by her erotic sighs. I roll my hips and cup her ass, pulling her closer with each thrust.

“Good?”

“Oh God,” she cries, falling back onto the cold kitchen counter, her hands landing on her breasts. The sight of her massaging herself like that brings me to the very edge, but I can’t get as deep as I’d like this way. I push aside the flowers and throw the scissors to the floor. Lifting Darlene, I move her up the counter, a little diagonally so that there’s enough room for me. I pull myself up and over her, taking her nipple into my mouth again as I work on getting her hers before mine. She’s close. Her eyes are fixed on the way my tongue laps at her breast and she pulls me tighter to her with her hand knotted in my hair.

“You feel so good, Reid. You’re amazing. I love you so much,” she cries, her ode a staccato with sharp groans of pleasure.

Everything I have is focused on
not coming, not coming, not coming
.

I’m not that guy.

Her, her, her.

Reaching
down between us, I rub light circles around her, needing her so desperately to let go. With her oncoming release she’s clenching around me, only making my resistance even more difficult. I clamp down on her nipple and move my fingers with more aggression until with an almighty cry Darlene comes apart in my hands. Her hips lift so violently from beneath me I have to hold onto the counter for fear of falling off, all the while pushing hard into her in the depths of my own release. She milks me for all she can until I am a sated heap on top of her.

Darlene giggles lightly as I kiss my way over her chest to her lightly panting mouth. I bring my fingers to her cheek, happy that it is I who has elicited that melodic laughter from her kiss swollen lips.

The happiness dies sharply as I see red smeared across my fingers and consequently, Darlene’s cheek.

“Fuck,” I breathe, lifting enough to look between us.

Red.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s b-blood,” I stutter. “You’re bleeding.” I pull out but I don’t back away. Guilt cloaks me as I play back this whole moment, wondering how I’ve hurt her and inwardly cursing myself.

“W-what?” Sitting up, Darlene looks down between us. Horror evident before relief consumes her. “My period.” Her eyelids flutter shut and her shoulders relax with a deep
sigh. I mirror her relief for a different reason; I didn’t hurt her.

The sheer magnificence of her relief is so telling. I know that she wanted to wait to start a family but the joy she is feeling right now is from more than just timing concerns. She was just as worried ab
out the paternity of that child – that non-child – as I was. I knew that already, but to see it so blatantly is a little sobering.

I was prepared to go down that path without knowing what the outcome would be. I was prepared to take on another man’s child for the sake of my wife, my marriage, my happiness. That doesn’t need to happen anymore. This is it for us. The last remnants of that affair have been buried and we are free to carry on as we were. I’m elated, but I can’t show it. Not when Darlene knows how much I’ve wanted a child. This happiness
will have to remain as much a secret as everything else between us.

“It’s my period,” she repeats, relief radiating from every pore.

“For a second I thought I’d hurt you.”

She offers a smile. “No, that was amazing.” Bringing her face to mine, she’s about to kiss me before she remembers the blood on her cheek, my hands, everywhere. “Shit. I’m sorry,” she mutters, her cheeks reddening even more.

I shake my head. Only Darlene could apologize for having her period. “Shower?” I ask, helping her down from the counter. She nods. “Go warm it up, I’ll clean up here.”

Alternating a look of disgust between me and the counter, her nose pinched and impossibly cute, even with gross blood against her ivory skin, she says, “You don’t have to do that. It’s my...I can do that.”