Torrid Affair (28 page)

H
appily-ever-afters
were indeed for pussies. I read that once and believed it to be true.

I never imagined my story would get a happy ending. How could it? It wasn't in the cards for me. I believed God gave me a crappy father, so I never expected anything great from any other man in my life. I learned to accept that on my twelve-hour car ride.

I was thirty-one years old and a widow. My abusive husband shot himself in front of me. The man I loved had a family. Fuck happily-ever-afters. Happily-ever-afters were for pussies.

The guy doesn’t always get the girl. Sometimes the girl packs her shit, stands on her own two feet, and decides she wants to conquer whatever the world throws at her.

But as sad as it seemed, I was finally happy. There was no longer anything holding me back. There was no one to respond to. If I wanted to pick up and leave, I could do that. I had no one to answer to but myself. 

But it also meant I was alone.

I packed up my belongings, left the key on the counter and never looked back. It took me two days to get home. The moment I was on the highway, I called Yve.

“About damn time!” Yve barked. “I’ve been going freaking crazy over here! What the fuck, Brie? You tell me Julian is dead and then hang up? Mother hell,” she mumbled under her breath. “You didn’t . . . Did you? I can be your alibi if you need me.”

“No, I didn’t kill him. He found out about me and Nate and tried to shoot me, but instead, he shot Nate and then killed himself.” I said it all in one breath.

“Fuck! Shit! Are you serious?” I waited as the phone went silent. “Wait? You and Nate?”

“Yeah.” I wiped the tears from my face. “It’s been one bad decision after another.”

“Okay, I have tequila. And we have plenty of time to talk.”

I sniffled. “I’m the most fucked up person.” I began to tell her how Nate and I started our affair. Every kiss, glance, touch—I didn’t spare any details.

“Sweet baby Jesus, mother of Pearl,” Yve said once I finished. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Me neither. I need a drink.”

“That sounds like a smart plan.”

“I think I’ll stop for the night once I hit the six-hour mark. I’ll be home tomorrow morning. Actually, I don’t even know if I have a home. Clearly, I didn’t think this through.” I cracked my neck.

“Don’t worry about it, Brie. Everything always works itself out.”

After six hours of driving, I stopped at a hotel near Lexington for the night and made my way down to the lobby bar. I figured drinking the pain away would be better than sitting in a empty hotel room by myself. I was wrong.

My mind wouldn’t stop replaying the past eleven years of my life. The happiness, the sadness, the heartache. Everything crashed into me.

* * *

P
ulling into my driveway
, I glanced up at our condominium. To my surprise, there was no eviction notice on the door. A familiar car pulled in behind me. Yve hopped out and ran toward my driver side door. I had sent her a text message when I was ten minutes away. I stepped out of the car and she greeted me with her warm embrace. 

“Welcome home, my friend.”

“It's good to see you, Yve, but I don't know if it's good to be home.” 

“Come on.” She held my hand and led me to the front door.  

When I opened the door and flicked on the lights, everything was as I left it. A cold shiver ran up my spine, as if Julian's ghost lingered.

“Nothing has changed.”

“Yeah.” Yve, shrugged. “I came by last night after you called. Made sure to clean out and restock your fridge.” She walked over to the piles of bills on the kitchen table. “I know it's a federal offense to open someone's mail, but it looks like you don't have anything past due.”

“Really?” That surprised me. I dashed to the kitchen table and dug through the envelopes. I opened the light bill. It had been paid the first of the month. It was the same with the gas, water, and the property taxes. I pulled out a chair and sat, my forehead rested on my forearms. “He'd been paying all of it.”

“Brie.” Yve patted my hair. 

“I fucked everything up by going to Charlotte,” I cried. “Maybe he would’ve changed if I’d just talked to him.”

The chair next to me squeaked. “Here's the problem with women. The second something goes wrong, we think it's our fault. We’re so quick to take the blame. How many times did he hit you? How many bruises did you have to cover up? How many times did you fear for your life? Better yet, how many times did you beg him to change? After every fight, he apologized.”

I looked up, my eyes soaked with tears. She was right.

“Brie, he had a gun pointed at you. He tried to kill you.” She stretched her hand out for mine. “Don't let the fact he paid the bills break you. Don't weep, because he wasn’t a good man. A husband is supposed to empower his wife. Every time he placed his hands on you, he broke a piece of you. Julian brought this upon himself, and you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

I sighed. “When did you get so smart?”

She smirked. “I've been reading a lot since you've been gone.”

I smiled weakly and lowered my head to the table. “I think I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my life.”

“What do you have a mind?”

I lifted my head to look at Yve. “I don't know, but it's not this.” Massaging my scalp, I ran my hands through my hair. “Warren told me that home is where love is. This isn't my home.”

“You can always come back to work.”

“I'll probably take you up on that offer, but I need to get out of this place.”

“You can move in with me.”

A grin grew on my face. “That sound like a brilliant idea.”

“So, do you miss Nate?” 

I sighed. “Every second. I think this time it hurts more. Before the whole chaos with Julian, I told him I asked Julian for a divorce and that I wanted to be with him. He said he was going to leave her. For those few seconds, we were together.”

Yve stood and walked over to her purse. Pulling out a liter of tequila, she placed it on the table.

“You just walk around carrying tequila in your purse?” I laughed.

“I figured you’d need to drown your sorrows. I’d suggest a giant cock to ease your pain, but you don’t look like that type of girl.” She walked over to the cupboards, pulled out two glasses, and then handed one to me. “To the bastards we love, the ones we lost, and the ones we could never forget.
Salut
.” She raised her glass.

I brought my glass to my lips and swallowed the agave infused alcohol. Yve was right. I needed to drink my sorrow for a few more days.  

* * *

F
ive days
after Yve and I drank all the alcohol our livers could consume, I managed to get my life somewhat situated. There was still no call, email or text from Nate. My heart ached, but I refused to let my heart be ripped open once more.

I went through Julian’s bills and his savings. To my surprise, he left me with a lot more money than I was aware of. I cringed at first, not wanting to do anything with it since I didn’t have any idea how he earned it, but Yve reminded me that I needed cash to pay rent.

So I took the money.

The following Saturday, I was packing the remainder of the house. I’d located a realtor to list the condo, and eventually all this would be behind me. I’d been staying with Yve since I arrived home, and every night after work I returned and packed up a room. There were boxes for donations, legal documents I needed to store, and my own personal crap I needed to pack.

It was a cool autumn day, and unfortunately, the heavy rain that always reminded me of me and Nate at Lake Norman hadn’t let up for my move. My cell phone rang in my back pocket and I juggled carrying a box and attempting to answer my cell.

“Hello,” I muffled.

“Are you almost here?” Yve asked in her most innocent voice.

Holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, I opened the door. “I’m leaving now, why? Do you need me to pick up something?”

“Uh . . .” She paused and I heard loud breathing. “Can you take the long way?”

I scoffed. “Are you having sex?” I barked into the phone as I slammed the front door shut.

Yve giggled into the phone. “There’ll be a sock on the door.” She laughed and hung up the phone.

My mind was so focused on my promiscuous roommate that I didn't spot
him
until I was down the four steps. I stopped abruptly, and the box I was carrying slipped to the ground. Paint splattered over the concrete sidewalk.

Nate was drenched from the rain. Once I gathered my equilibrium, I ran toward him. “You’re soaking wet,” I muttered. Crying, I threw my hands around his neck and he grunted with pain. “What are you doing here?”

He pulled back and his hand brushed away my tears. “Ten years ago, I let you walk out of my life. I didn't follow you then, but I'm not making the same mistake again.” His lips captured mine, and any chill I’d felt left my body.

Pulling away breathlessly, I whispered against his lips, “We’re going to get sick.”

He chuckled and led me toward a car. He held open the passenger door and walked around toward the driver’s side. When he sat back, I leaped forward.

“You came all this way?” I kissed his cheek.

“I’d go to the moon for you.” He grasped my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m sorry I took so long to get here.” He paused and inhaled slowly. “I needed to serve Delaney with divorce papers first.” He licked his lips and smiled up at me. “You make everything right. I can't live without you, Brielle. I
refuse
to live without you. I may be ten years too late, but I'm coming after you.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you more.” Nate placed a half kiss on my lips.

“How did you get here?”

“I flew. When I didn’t see you at the hospital, I knew something was wrong. He paused. “I’m so sorry about Julian, Brie.”

“
I’m
sorry. He was your brother.”

He kissed my lips once more. “I want you to know that I asked Delaney for a divorce. After Warren gave me your letter and I knew you were gone, I had to come after you. It's been a long time coming.”

“And Caleb?”

Nate’s fingers slid down my cheek. “Do you think there's room in your heart for him?” I nodded. “Even though he's not mine?”

I gasped. “You know?”

“Since the day he was born.” He shrugged. “But I was married, and you were with Julian, and he was a child in need of a father. Even though I'm not his biological father, it doesn't make him any less my son.” My heart doubled in size with every word he spoke. “Austin has filed for custody, and that will be a headache, but we’ll deal with it.”

“You knew it was Austin?”

“It didn’t take much to put it together. Caleb looks a lot like him, and there were rumors after Delaney got pregnant that she slept with him. But I thought it was a rumor.” Nate kissed my lips once more. “I want to put this all behind us. I want you for me—always.” 

I hugged him. “I never want to lose you.”

“You never will. We can run into the sunset together.” 

I chuckled. “Is that your big plan?”

“Yes. When I kiss you, you’ll kick your feet up and we will hold hands as we run toward the sunset.” Nate framed my face. “Happily-ever-afters
do
exist. We’re living proof of that.”

Shaking my head, I tried to hide the joy on my face. I couldn’t believe we actually had a chance at making this work.

“Do you love me?” Nate quipped.

“I never knew it was possible to love a man as much as I love you.”

“How much?” Nate teased me with his lips.

“More than I can hold in my heart.”

Three months later. 

According to the paternity test, Austin was indeed Caleb’s father.  

With the custody battle for Caleb between Nate, Delaney, and Austin, Nate had to spend most of his time in Charlotte. It also meant that we had to travel back and forth to see one another. Sometimes we each drove six hours and met at a hotel just so we could spend the night curled in each other’s arms. We stayed hushed about our relationship until the dust settled and the judge made his final decision.