“Looks like you won, Mr. Edwards, what a shame…”
“If you weren’t soaking wet again I would somehow think you were trying to weasel your way out of this. Now shut the fuck up and bring your beautiful ass here.”
And in the morning sunshine in the light of day, he took me in our bed, again.
Chapter 28
Lex
She was still sat in the same spot that I left her in last night, against the window pane staring out to the backyard. The plate of food I left beside her remained untouched. The house was eerily quiet, my mother had taken Andy for a few days to give Adriana some time to sleep, but she didn’t.
The same nightmare played over and over in my head, the screams that echoed down the hospital hall as the monitor beeps increased in pitch and the doctors rushed in. The sign that he was finally gone.
When his casket was lowered into the ground I held onto my sister who stood perfectly still. I knew I was losing her, too, the grief insurmountable, and not once did she speak, nor did she shed a tear. She was catatonic. It frightened me, the once bright future ahead was now unknown. I prayed every night that she would pull out of this coma; I couldn’t lose my sister. She was my blood, my family, and I wanted to shield her from the pain. I wanted the old, annoying Adriana back, faults and all. I wanted her to tell me ridiculous jokes only to laugh before she reached the punch-line, the kind that only she found funny. Most importantly, I wanted her to be a mother to this little miracle that defied all odds to make it into this world. If I was being honest that’s what hurt me the most, watching her son grow more and more each day. To witness him not being embraced by his own mother. It wasn’t her fault; she had to deal with this in her own way. She lost the love of her life and I couldn’t conceptualize
her pain, not in a million years. Nor did I wish it upon me, and with this decided, I did the unthinkable…I found myself pulling away from Charlotte.
At the funeral, Charlotte placed her hand on my forearm and I felt my body instantly recoil. She pulled away, the hurt in her eyes cutting me deep. It was my way of dealing with the grief, I was crippled inside and love became a foreign concept. Why do we love when in the end it is taken from us and we are left to die a slow death?
I spent every moment I could in the office, desperate for a distraction. If I wasn’t there, I was at Adriana’s house, trying to bring her back to life. In the mornings I would spend it with Amelia, the guilt eating away at me that I wasn’t home sharing the responsibility of our daughter, but distance made the pain hurt less. Charlotte tried to bring it up a few times but I simply walked away from the conversation. She knew not to touch me, and therefore, our conversations became limited to Amelia and the talk of the weather.
After a while, Adriana slowly started to come around, but all around her the memories were a painful reminder of what she’d lost. While we saw improvement, the breakdowns quickly accompanied it. It was almost like she refused to move on with her life. My mother was at her wit’s end, afraid of her daughter doing something drastic; my father finally suggested that she get some professional help. I knew that Charlotte was visiting Adriana and those were the times I rushed home to get changed and make sure I was gone before she returned.
The sounds of the traffic echoed in the background as I sat in my office alone. It was well into the night, what time…I had no idea. The dim light of the lamp was the only thing illuminating the room. My bourbon sat on my desk, enticing me with its ability to erase the nightmare I was living.
Last night got the better of me, and for that reason alone I knew I couldn’t see her tonight. When I saw Charlotte dressed in those skinny, ass-cupping jeans and that slinky top…that top… my weakness was engulfing me and my inability to fight off that side of me that wanted her, the side that so desperately needed to be buried in her, meant that I had make her loathe me.
I was surprised to find that Amelia was not home, as I wanted nothing more than to be smothered by her; in turn, my anger was redirected to Charlotte. Of course, I knew she wanted to talk; our marriage was a complete train wreck. I know full well it was my fault but I did what I had to do to protect myself.
The words I said had the intent of hurting her, because I felt myself caving. She was beyond furious and when she left the kitchen I thought she would lock herself in our room. I had no inkling whatsoever she would come out dressed in that top, her tits on full show; had it been that long since I had touched them? My body was betraying me, my cock throbbing at the sight of her, and yet, I allowed the jealously and rage to fight off any desire I felt. She was justifiably livid at my venomous outburst, and in typical Charlotte fashion, she didn’t back down. She went at me and matched me toe to toe, and fuck me if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever.
She searched frantically for the keys and the second I spotted them behind me, I knew it was inevitable what would happen next. I could have so easily just pushed them away but the masochistic side of me waited for her to come near me. The overpowering scent of her skin lingered in the air, enough for me to inhale it, and all my senses in that moment weakened. She lingered, and I knew I could have had her right there, all of her, but those tortured voices in my head told me to back off. If I gave in now, the pain would be much worse later.
I didn’t want to feel pain.
I didn’t want to lose her.
I didn’t want to love her.
Words hurt…sometimes more than sticks and stones.
And tonight I spoke those words.
After she slammed the door in my face, the jealous side of me knew I had no choice but to go to the club. She would get drunk and she was pissed off at me, and I’m talking ‘steam coming out of her ears’ pissed. Any guy with a fucking dick would want in her pussy and that side of me still needed to control her.
At the club, I found myself a stool at the far end of the bar. I was camouflaged by others that surrounded me, and thankfully, my height gave me the advantage I needed. My eyes fixated on her, there on the dance floor, and just as I suspected, all the dicks were on her like flies round shit. The fury forced me to pull out my cell and text her. I could see her respond, and unlike the Charlotte that was my wife, she laughed it off, only to rub herself up against some bleached blond fucker that placed his hands on her ass.
Acting on impulse, I moved towards the dance floor until I felt a hand press up against my chest; it was Eric.
“Move the fuck away, Eric,” I gritted.
“Lex, let her be,” his voice calm.
“Let her be? She’s going to be dragged to the back alley and get fucked by that fucker. She’s my fucking wife!”
“Give her some credit, you aren’t such a saint yourself,” he shot back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”