I can’t bear the emptiness that was my life. I cover my face with my hands. I have to right what is wrong. I’m not ready to lose Brad and Isaac. I just can’t. My heart can’t take it.
“Goodnight, Mila.”
I jump. I hadn’t heard Isaac’s footsteps. I smile, open my arms, and he runs straight into them. He smells of shower gel and cleanliness. I kiss the top of his head. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
I have tears in my eyes when Isaac leaves. I’ve come to mean something to him, and he, in turn, means the world to me. I would love to see Isaac grow up. I want to play a part in the kind of young man he’ll become.
When Brad returns to the living room, it’s to tell me goodnight.
“I’m going to read in bed,” he said. “Do you mind turning off the lights when you’re done here?”
“Sure,” I tell him trying to sound strong.
Brad treating me like a stranger hurts more than I can say. I swallow a lump in my throat and watch his broad shoulders as he walks out. Shoulders that only a day ago I had access too. A body I could run my hands over whenever I wanted. Now without words, access has been denied. It’s as if a wall has been built between us, and nothing can bring it down. Not even making love. After we made love in the shower, I’d hoped that Brad would open up to me. If anything, he had acted even colder.
I sigh deeply and push myself to my feet. I turn off all the lights, and with heavy feet, I make my way to our bedroom, though, at this point, it feels like Brad’s bedroom.
He barely glances at me when I enter or even when I strip off and wear the nightshirt I’ve worn only once. He keeps his attention firmly on the book that he’s reading. I slip into the covers on my side of the bed. I shut my eyes. My brain can’t shut off.
I turn to face Brad. “Can’t we talk about it? What can be so bad that it can’t be resolved?”
He’s so still I think he didn’t hear me. Then he turns, and my breath hitches. His face is twisted with agony.
I sit up in bed. Something is very wrong. “Brad, what is it?”
His eyes harden. “You’re going to pretend that all is well with us? That you haven’t betrayed our relationship?”
His words shook me to the core. Clearly, he’s accusing me of something. Something that I know nothing about.
“Okay then, if that’s how you want to play it, then fine. I’ll lay it on the table for you.” His voice is rugged and angry. He drops the book on the side table with unnecessary force. He turns back to me. “Debbie saw you in the coffee shop downtown with a man. A man that kissed you, so please don’t bother with the excuse that he’s a relative.”
At first, I have no idea what Brad is talking about, and when I do remember, I want to slap myself.
“So, it’s true?” Brad says.
I meet his gaze. I have done nothing wrong except lie by omission, but Brad seems to believe that I cheated on him. I try to imagine the chain of events that led to this moment.
“Debbie told you that she saw me in the coffee shop kissing a man?” I ask, my voice edged with steel.
“She told Collins who told me about it today at work,” Brad says, his tone daring me to accuse his friends of lying.
“And that was it. I was put on trial and sentenced without a chance to defend myself?” I ask.
“What possible explanation can there be for you kissing another man?” Brad says. His voice brings down my anger. He’s hurt and in pain.
I remember something that explains his quick judgment. His ex-wife. Brenda cheated on him. The moment he heard that I’d kissed another man, his mind went into overdrive.
“I did meet a man, and yes, he kissed me, but it wasn’t reciprocated. That was Clay, my ex-husband. He wanted to meet, and I now know that was a mistake, but I agreed to do it.”
“Why?” Brad says.
“I thought if we met face to face, I’d convince him to leave me alone once and for all,” I tell Brad. “He’d been texting me, and I was fed up with it. I just wanted to move on with my life.”
The hurt on Brad’s face has been replaced with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me that he was harassing you?”
I drop my glance. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”
He hooks my chin with two fingers and lifts my face. “Your problems are mine, Mila. You’re my wife.”
Hope swells in my chest.
“As long as you’re my wife on paper, you’re under my protection,” Brad says. The unsaid lies unspoken between us. It’s temporary. He’ll protect me as long as I’m still his wife.