Because (Seven Year Itch #4) (5 page)

Seven years of marriage and I couldn’t remember the last time I went a day without shedding a tear. I tried to mask my emotions by acting as if my marriage was a beautiful example of how two young people could manage to make it work. I’d go as far as to conjure up lies in order to hide the truth.

My husband wasn’t there for me – not when I needed him to be, with the exception of it having to do with Aberdeen. There was always something more important going on in his life.

Don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t a terrible person. Contrary to how I may be making him seem, he was a genuinely kind person. He helped anyone that asked, and offered assistance even when they didn’t. He was generous and considerate to everyone he came in contact with, with me being the only exception. When he came home he was a different person. All of his frustrations were taken out on me, as if I was some kind of emotional punching bag. I didn’t get it. Where had I gone wrong? Why did he hate me?

Then I thought about what we’d just done together. Was he only fulfilling his own selfish needs or did he want me as much as I always wanted him? I didn’t understand him at all. Sex solved everything in his eyes, and I hated that. He either couldn’t stand the sight of me, or he was trying to get in my pants. He was like Jekyll and Hyde, but the stakes were my damaged heart.

He’d been the one to make me hate myself, inside and out. Looking in the mirror wasn’t an easy task for me, but I did it for the second time since entering the bathroom. I could see flaws in every spot. I was always looking for reasons my husband wouldn’t want me anymore. I had stretch marks across my hips and tummy, ones he’d always been eager to point out. I felt used and abused, like an old chair ready to go to the landfill. Couldn’t he see that’s how I felt when he talked down to me? When he touched me was he cringing inside? Was I his biggest regret?

I close my eyes before dressing, praying to God for a solution that wouldn’t tear my family apart. I don’t expect a verbal answer, but a sign would be just as appreciated. I’m out of ideas, and too stubborn to come up with a way to fix things myself. I need advice, but have no one to confide in.

I’m terrified of walking out the door and him not begging me to return. What if it’s what he wants? What if he treats me like a dog because he wants me to leave without having to force my hand?

With a million scenarios running through my mind there is only one thing I know for certain. I can’t have the life I want unless I do something drastic to make it happen.

Hell or high water it was time to stop dwelling and face my fears. If Brandon couldn’t love me the way I deserved then he didn’t deserve me at all.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

After taking Aberdeen to my mothers, I head into work my four hours at Target. I like my job. It’s easy and it gets me out of the house. I would have liked to stay home since my daughter had gone to the hospital, but they’ve hired someone new I’m supposed to train and four hours isn’t that long to be away from her. Besides, my mother raised me and took good care of me. She’d do the same for my child, so I don’t have to worry.

After clocking in, I make my way to the women’s department and start folding some clothes that are out of order. Our newest shipment will come in later this afternoon and I need things to be neat for the next shift. Out of the corner of my eye I notice someone approaching me. She’s in a red polo shirt with khaki pants on. A name tag that’s handwritten sits on her right breast reading ‘Char’.

I extend my hand out, realizing she’s the newest hire. “Hi. I’m Shayla.”

“Char. It’s nice to meet you. They told me to come over here. Am I in the right place?”

“Yep.” Right away I’m taken back by her beauty. She’s not just physically fit. Her figure is perfect, her skin an olive tone, while her makeup appears to be airbrushed on. If I would have seen this girl while in the presence of my husband I’d be completely worried he’d fall in lust. Her long blonde hair is down to the crack of her ass. Its naturally wavy with a hint of high and lowlights scattered around. As she smiles at me I notice her bright white teeth and eyes as green as emeralds. More than anything she reminds me of the girl I used to be; the carefree one who would do anything to get what she wanted. I envied her youth, and the way she could walk across a room and catch the attention of anyone around.

She could definitely pull off being on the cover of a magazine. “What brings you to Target?” I ask. It’s a friendly question. She couldn’t be more than twenty, if that. I wondered if she’d just moved to the area, perhaps with a boyfriend.

“I needed a job while I’m going to school.”

“College?” I assume.

“Yeah. For now I’m at Chesapeake. I wanted to go to Washington, but the registration cut off before I could get there. My family lives across the Bay Bridge in Columbia. They’d already secured a place for me to live over here, so I figured I’d take some classes and then transfer.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Washington College in Chestertown Maryland was a hard school to get into, and the tuition alone could break the bank. It was a good school with old roots. She was lucky her parents could afford it. “What are you majoring in?”

“English.”

“My worst subject,” I exclaim.

“My father is a literature professor, well he was before he retired. It’s kind of in my blood. I’ve always loved to read. I guess I’m sort of a nerd.”

Was she crazy? Has she looked in a mirror? “I’m sure that’s not true.”

For the next few hours I show her how to work each zone. We focus on making sure every article of clothing is folded and neat. Char tells me about her family and her life. She talks about a boyfriend she still keeps in touch with who lives over an hour away, but I say nothing about being married, though I’m sure she’s noticed the ring I wear on my left finger. When my shift is over I feel like she’s a good person, but still not one I’d be willing to bring home to introduce to my husband.

I climb in my car to leave and break down. It says a lot when I can’t have friends over because I’m afraid they’ll try to sleep with my husband. Everyone is a threat, and as much as I don’t want it to be true, I can’t help but think it.

After I pick up Aberdeen and arrive home I’m in a fowl mood. It’s self inflicted, and I’m bitter about that. I scroll through my phone and call Brandon. He answers after the third ring. “Hey, babe. What’s up?”

Just like nothing happened the night before, he’s calm and collected. I wonder if he’s around other people. “Nothing. I just got home. I was checking in. Ab still hasn’t gotten sick again. She seems fine now.”

“Good. Listen, I’ll probably be late getting home tonight. We have a meeting at five and then the guys were going to go out for dinner.”

“When were you going to tell me about it?” I was becoming angry. “If I didn’t call were you even going to let me know?”

“Don’t start on me, Shay. I just found out about it fifteen minutes ago.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and do my best to calm down before I say something I know will set him off. “So I guess you won’t be eating with us tonight?”

“Is that going to be a problem?” He said it with authority, it irritated me. He wasn’t my father, he was supposed to be my equal. “Hello?”

“No. Just do what you want. We’ll be here when you get home.” I hung up before he could say anymore. I don’t know why I expected him to act differently. Aberdeen was better and he had no reason to rush home for us.

Settled on the fact that I couldn’t do anything about it, I sit down and watch television while Aberdeen plays in her room.

A tap on my arm wakes me. I’m still tired from the previous night and must have fallen asleep. My daughter stands in front of me with her hands on her hips. “Mommy, I’m hungry and it’s dark outside.”

I’m immediately alerted by this, so I jump up and head to the kitchen where I find it to be after six. She’s followed me. I spin around and address her. “I’m sorry. I must have dozed off. What would you like to eat? I’ll make you anything you want.”

“Pizza,” she says with her two missing front teeth showing.

I tap on my chin and consider having pizza on a non-scheduled night. We usually order on Thursdays when it’s buy one get one at the local delivery place. “Okay, but on one condition. You have to get a bath while we wait for it to be delivered.”

She smiles and wiggles her body from side to side. “Okay.” She then searches the room. “When will Daddy be home?”

I look at the clock again, even though I already know the time. He said he had a meeting at five and then was going to go out with people from work. “I don’t know. Do you want me to call and see?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to order dinner first and then I’ll call him. Go on and start the water. Don’t forget to take your pajamas in the bathroom with you. Top drawer of your dresser, young lady. Don’t you dare pull everything out either.” She was notorious for making a disaster of her folded clothes just to find one item. I was constantly refolding, and since I did it four days a week at Target, I didn’t want to spend extra time doing it over again.

She hurried out of the room while I made a quick call to get dinner on the way. Afterwards I hit the button to dial Brandon and waited for him to answer. It rang three times, and just as I was about to hang up I heard a female’s voice. “Hello. Brandon’s phone.”

“Where is Brandon? Who is this?”

“I’m just a girl you obviously don’t know.”

“Well, girl I don’t know, where is my husband?”

She giggled. I could hear cheering behind her. “He’s preoccupied at the moment. I think he’s dancing, but it’s pretty crowded. Maybe you should call him back later.”

I opened my mouth to order her to get him, but noticed the line had gone silent. She hung up on me.

I was furious.

This wasn’t happy hour with the guys. He was out at some bar living it up while I was home with his daughter, trying to be both a mother and father in his absence.

It took everything I had in me to keep calm for Aberdeen’s sake. For once, I promise myself I won’t overreact. I’m going to push through my fears and wait until he comes home and explains. If I want to fix my marriage I can’t continue to accuse him of anything when there could be a logical explanation as to why he’s dancing at a bar while a female picks up his phone and answers.

Who am I kidding? I’m freaking out. This is exactly what is ruining my marriage; my inability to trust my husband.

It’s hard to get through dinner when my mind is drowning with worry. I can’t eat, and watching my daughter scarf down two whole pieces makes me want to vomit. I manage to keep her occupied so she doesn’t ask what’s wrong. I can’t involve her in one of our fights. She’s overheard too many as it is.

After dinner I tuck her into bed. I’m wide awake at this point, eager to get to the bottom of the newest mystery. I think in some ways I knew if I caught him in the act I’d be able to stop assuming. I want the truth, even if it will crush me completely.

It’s after ten when I hear the back door opening. I’m on the couch, impatiently waiting to attack. He tosses his keys on the kitchen tables and walks into where I’m sitting. As soon as our eyes meet I turn off the television to give him my undivided attention. It’s also to prevent him from being distracted. I want to see the look on his face when he explains where the hell he’s been all night.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” I ask.

“What?” He seems confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Where were you tonight?”

“I told you earlier. I had a meet and then we went out for dinner and drinks. Are you drunk?”

“No, but I can smell the liquor on you from a mile away.” He stunk. Plain and simple. “I tried to call you earlier.”

“It was loud in the bar we went to. They had a band playing.” He makes his way to the couch to sit next to me. I scoot over to give him more room. I don’t want his closeness to distract me from what I want to say. “A female answered the phone. She said you were dancing.”

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ. Not this shit again. I’m not in the mood to argue with you tonight, Shay.” He stands back up and starts leaving the room. “I’m going to bed. When you chill the fuck out maybe you can join me, but if you’re going to keep being a bitch just sleep out here. I need to get up early for work and don’t feel like hearing you whine all night.”

I feel defeated, but also determined. He’s not going to get out of this conversation so easily. “Oh no you don’t.” I follow behind him. “I want to know why some random chick answered your phone and said you were dancing. What is going on, Bran? Tell me the truth. I’ve sat here all night thinking the worse. I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what? What is it you think I’ve been doing?” He laughs as he says it, like it’s all some joke to him.

“Were you with her? Are you seeing someone? I know you’ve talked to girls online. I know the password to your Facebook account. Was it one of those girls? Just tell me.” I start to cry while still speaking. “I need to know the truth. Is she beautiful?”

“You’re being ridiculous again. Why can’t you stop this?” He shakes his head and throws his hands in the air. “I’m done. If you can’t trust me to go out with my colleagues then there isn’t hope for this marriage.”

“Is that how you really feel?” I need him to say it again. We’ve mentioned this while fighting in the past, but never acted on it. If this is truly how he feels I want clarification.

“Pretty much. I’m done, Shay. Why don’t you go out and find someone you think can give you what you want, because it sure as hell can’t be me. It’s not worth it anymore. I’m tired of the bickering. I’m sick of you accusing me of doing things. Yeah, I sent a few messages to people, but I haven’t…” He stops and pauses for a  second. “I don’t owe you anything. Just find somewhere else to go. This isn’t working and you know it.”

My lips are trembling and I feel like I could pass out at any minute. I’ve waited for him to say this to me, but now that he is, I’m losing it for other reasons. Brandon is throwing in the towel. He doesn’t want to be married to me, and I don’t know if I can blame him. I’ve pushed him to this point. “I don’t know where to go,” I manage to get out.

“Go to your parents. They’ll let you stay with them until we can get things figured out. I’ll do what I can for you, but I can’t afford to pay for two places. We’ll share the responsibility of Ab. I don’t want this to hurt her anymore than it already will. I think if we’re apart we can get along better. It’s obvious being in the same house isn’t getting us anywhere. We need a breather. Honestly, I don’t even know if time can fix what’s wrong with us. You don’t trust me. You never have. I can’t take it anymore, Shay. I’m sorry you’re upset. I know you love me, but I’m done walking on eggshells.”

I’m bawling. I can’t stand to hear him talking like this. He’s shattering my heart into a million pieces. I want to yell, to scream and punch him until he changes his mind, but I can’t move. I’m stuck there, looking at my husband and wondering how in the hell it has come to this. When did our love become something neither of us could stand anymore.

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