THE AFFAIR (10 page)

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Authors: Dyanne Davis

BOOK: THE AFFAIR
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He’d only been there with them for one day alone. The other two days, he had taken a good long look at his daughter, the daughter that Mick always accused him of spoiling, of favoring.

Maybe it was true. He’d looked at her the day before thinking how much she looked like her mother. He’d been surprised that her resemblance to Mick did in fact create a bond. He had never dared admit it to anyone, least of all to himself.

But now he knew Mick was correct in her assessment of the situation. But how could he not love Erica a little more? She was the spitting image of the woman who’d given her life. Her birth had been the cement that glued them together as a family instead of a couple.

Larry looked around his daughter’s spotless white kitchen, remembering how amazed he’d been not to see any clutter. The all white kitchen was new. Something they never would have tried with young kids, something Mick wouldn’t try now for fear of their grandchildren’s visits.

He’d walked around the house looking at Erica’s collection of Lladros safely ensconced behind glass in a curio cabinet. Not one fingerprint marred the glass. He’d been the one to start his daughter’s collection. From the day she was born he’d collected them for her. Not a one was broken-unlike Mick’s meager collection.

He’d been standing there looking at his eldest daughter’s collection when she’d come to stand behind him.
“How do you manage to keep the kids away from those?” He waved toward the curio.
“They wouldn’t dare touch my things.”
“Are you saying they’ve never tried?”
“They tried and I spanked them.”

He watched as she turned smiling brown eyes on him. “These are precious, they’re all from you. I would never let them destroy them.” His mouth fell open in surprise.

“That wasn’t the attitude you had with your mother’s figurines.”
“Daddy, you know Mom isn’t as attached to her things I am.”
“Erica, it was an anniversary gift. I gave it to her for our twentieth anniversary.”
He had watched as Erica pouted, her face frowning, her eyes no longer smiling, but glaring at him.

“If it was that important to her, then why didn’t she just let you buy her another one? Nooo, she had to take it out on me and my kids and make me feel guilty that they’re so lively.”

Larry looked at his daughter and saw the face of his wife a year before, crying amidst the ruins from her broken figurine, an anniversary gift from him to her. He hadn’t given her many, preferring instead to take the entire family on anniversary trips. Now watching his daughter’s angry face, he recalled every word. He got a shiver as he heard Michelle’s voice in his head calling to him.


Oh my God! Larry, look what they did.”


They’re just kids, Mother,”
Erica had answered her mother, before he could say a word.
“If you didn’t want it broken you shouldn’t have put it out.”

At the time he’d ignored the fire in Mick’s eyes when she answered Erica. “
It was on the mantle, Erica
. Maybe you should have better control of your kids and teach them to respect other people’s property. They had no business climbing up there anyway.”

“What’s the big deal, Mother? Just go buy yourself another one.”
“It was an anniversary gift.”
“Then tell Daddy to buy you another one.”

Larry could clearly picture the tears as they rained down his wife’s face. He’d wanted so much to stop her from hurting, but he chose to stop the fight. “Erica’s right, honey. Stop crying, I’ll buy you another one tomorrow.”

“If you do, I’ll break it myself,” she’d replied. He had watched, as she finished picking up the broken porcelain and dumped it in the trash without another word.

For the first time, looking at Erica in her uncluttered home with over twenty years of an expensive Lladro collection intact, he was beginning to understand. Mick was right, Erica was selfish.

 

Chapter Five

 

“Michelle?”

I dared to breathe, the relief evident in my bones. If I closed my eyes in a certain way I could almost see the string that connected me to the voice on the phone.

“Michelle, I’ve been waiting for you to call me. I’ve had time to get used to this.”
A pause.
“I was so sure when I found you, that you would be ready for this. I’m sorry I didn’t give you more time.”
I couldn’t believe it. Chance was apologizing to me for my behaving like a fool and running away from him.
“Chance, can we talk?”
“I’m swamped with patients until six.”
“I could buy you dinner.”
“Where’s your husband?”
“In Arizona.”

I heard the slow, even breathing from the other end of the phone. I shivered. I wondered how long Chance had been collecting these things to show to the woman he loved. Then it hit me. I was the woman he loved, the one he’d stored up treasures for.

“I could meet you at your house at seven…bring dinner fixings…and cook dinner for you.”
“Do you remember how to get there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you want to come?”
“I have to.”
“Then I’ll meet you there at seven…only don’t bring dinner. We’ll order in.”

For the rest of the day I moved through the rooms of my home cleaning and dusting, remembering my life with Larry, my children, my parents. I felt the way I had after having been given morphine for pain years before. Dizzy.

I was not quite sure that I wasn’t in a dream. I concentrated harder, trying to stop the shadow that was now forming around my life. It felt as if I were living inside a board game. If I wanted, I believed I could pick up the pieces and move them about.

Call Larry
. The sound reverberated through my head not quite reaching my soul.

I didn’t want an attack of conscience. I didn’t want to forgive Larry, to have him forgive me. I didn’t want to hear him ask me one more time if I’d gone to the doctor, implying that I was crazy. I wanted something that I knew would be bad for me, and I knew that it would cause me problems later.

It was with that in mind that I pulled an invisible veil over my eyes to block out the pictures of my family, to block out my life. I was totally aware of what I was about to do. In that aspect, I have no defense.

By six my entire body felt as if it were wired into a circuit board and someone was shooting little jolts of electricity around and through me.

I walked into my bathroom, my hand automatically opening the drawer and pulling out a brand new toothbrush. This I stuck into my purse. A cold shiver ran through me and I thought of the saying that someone had walked over my grave. I now knew what that meant.

 

 

A few minutes before seven, I sat in the driveway of Chance’s home waiting for something to happen to make me stop this incredible madness. Nothing happened. Not guilt, not a sense of loss, nothing. The door opened and Chance stood framed by the soft light from inside. Though he was smiling at me, my own uncertainty was evident in him.

I sensed he wanted to come to the car, but was holding back, waiting for me to make my choice. It seemed strange that all it would take for me to change my life was the simple act of getting out of the car.

My eyes fell on the door handle. I gazed at Chance then found myself walking toward him, not remembering actually opening the door.

“Hi.”

I stood about a foot from him, the shuddering from within now on the outside. I sank my teeth into the flesh of my lips. His arms reached out for me, enclosing me in a circle of warmth.

“Welcome home.”

I fell against his chest sobbing, knowing in some strange way I had indeed returned home, to this man.

“Chance, we need to talk. I have to understand what you’re telling me. This all seems so romantic and so farfetched.” I closed my eyes allowing a loud sigh to escape.

“How do I know I’m not just here with you now because I’m tired and want a change? How do you know I’m not angry at my husband right now and using you?”

I stepped away from Chance. Finally, my husband’s face had managed to push its way into my brain, making me aware of exactly what I was doing by being here with this man. Even if I didn’t sleep with him again, I’d crossed the barrier of trust.

Chance was caressing my face, the pads of his fingers warm and gentle.
“I can tell you why you’re here if you really want to know.”
“If I don’t know the reason, why would you?” I asked, amazed that he had the guts to voice his feelings without hesitation.
“Because you’ve been searching for me, as I have for you,” Chance purred. “You’ve been calling to me and I heard.”

I was frowning. I’d thought I was ready to hear what he had to say, but I wasn’t. “Chance, just for now, can we change the subject?”

Chance smiled in my direction. “Tell me about your husband,” he said. “What does he do?”
“He’s a lawyer.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes,” I replied, noticing that Chance’s eyebrows shot up at my answer.
“If that’s true, why are you here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ahh, but you do. You’re a smart woman, Michelle. Why are you here?”

I looked at him, at his lips that I so wanted to kiss. I could feel the heat of desire rushing through my body. I was embarrassed as hell to tell him that for all my life I had wondered what true fulfillment was like and in one night he’d shown me. He’d managed to satisfy the cravings of my body and soul. I wanted it again.

“Are you here for the sex?”

I couldn’t believe he’d asked me that. My mouth fell open. “I…I…yes,” I finally admitted at last. “That is part of the reason I’m here.”

“And if I told you there was going to be no sex, would you leave?”

I stared at him. “No, I wouldn’t leave.” I realized in that moment that I did mean it. “Are you telling me that you don’t want to make love to me?” I found it impossible to stop the blush that began at my toes and continued to the root of my hair.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. More than anything we need to talk. You need to know why I feel so strongly that we belong together. You have commitments. I don’t. And that, my dear Michelle, is going to be a bit of a problem.”

He slid down to the floor, his arms reaching out for me. After my head was settled on his chest, we remained like that, not talking for a few moments, just enjoying being together.

“Tell me something,” he whispered into my hair. “That day I met you, what had happened? Why did you want to die?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was…feeling a little down.”
“People don’t want to die because they feel a little down.”

I wondered if I should tell him about Viola. Larry had instructed me not to mention it to anyone. So far I’d followed his instructions.

“Several months ago I hit a woman with my car.” There. I’d said it out loud. This was the first time I’d ever admitted this to anyone other than Larry and the police.”

“What happened?”

He was still holding me, the pads of his thumbs gently drawing circles on the soft flesh of my arm. I looked at him. “I don’t know. One minute I was driving, the next I saw this figure in front of me and I tried to stop. I hit her. Oh my God, I hit her!”

He held me tighter and allowed me to cry. I knew he couldn’t understand what I was saying. I barely could, I just kept repeating, “Oh my God, oh my God. It was awful.”

“Did she die?”
“No.”
“Did you go visit her, make sure she was all right?”

I didn’t turn my gaze from his. I wanted to witness the revulsion that I was sure would cross his face when I told him. “I never went to see her.”

“Why? Look at you. I think you would have felt better.”

“Larry handled everything. He told me not to go. He told me not to talk about it with anyone. He took care of all her medical bills and he made some sort of settlement.”

“I’m sure he was generous with her,” Chance offered. “Why are you carrying this guilt?”

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