The Lion's Den (Faraway Book 2) (21 page)

I paid the babysitter. I checked on the kids. I kissed each one and tried to figure out what their future held. Something had fractured tonight in my resolve. I was no longer willing to stay married at all costs. I’d met Dharma, and now I knew the payment I would not make.

It was two thirty in the morning when I heard Brad enter our bedroom. He pushed the door open hard, and it banged against the wall. I shot up in bed, fearing for the children before I knew what was going on.

“What the hell! You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“Fuck you,” Brad said. His voice was low, void of any emotion besides hatred, and I braced myself for an argument.

“Whatever, Brad.” I lay back down but didn’t close my eyes. There would be no mercy tonight. I knew Brad wasn’t just going to pass out.

“What is your fucking problem?” he asked, and a memory of him asking me those same words before shot into my head. We were at Jenna’s, and I hated him. I chased the memory around in my mind until Brad interrupted by asking, “Seriously, what is your
fucking
problem?” He was standing over my side of the bed. He didn’t frighten me. He repulsed me.

“I’ve got no problem. Go to bed, Brad.”

“Oh, you’ve got no problem? Then why did you try to make me feel guilty tonight?”

I sat up in bed and turned on the light. I wanted to see his ridiculous face as we had this insane conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We had a great time tonight.” My voice was filled with shock, which was for his benefit. In reality, I knew I didn’t do anything to make him feel guilty. He did that all by himself.

“You’re not as perfect as you think.” He was more than happy to make me aware of it.

“I never said I was perfect.”

He stared at me. He didn’t move. He just stood over me, pondering. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, and I thought he might cry. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to reconcile the fact that he could repulse me more.

“Just go to sleep. Please.”

“I won’t lose you, Meredith. I don’t care what you’re thinking or what you want. I’m not going to lose you.”

Brad didn’t realize I wasn’t some twenty-five-year-old he was fucking. I was his wife, and I was already gone.

The next morning, I woke up before Brad and the kids. I went downstairs and made homemade French toast. I let the smell of the melting butter and cinnamon waft through the house until it dragged all of them from their pillows. The kids came running down, following their favorite scent, and sat at the island while I poured them glasses of milk to go with their breakfast.

Brad came down, looking like he’d just risen from a coffin. His eyes were bloodshot with shadows circling each one. It was impossible, but he actually appeared shorter. He’d lost some of himself last night. He sat in the seat vacated by the kids, who had scarfed down their breakfast and were now running out of the room chasing each other and screaming. Brad dropped his head into his hands and moaned.

“Rough one?” I asked. My voice was kind. It appeared I cared about him, which was exactly what I wanted him to think.

“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be talking to you? I had a great time at your party.”

He raised his head from his hands, and I kissed his cheek.

Brad just stared at me.

I placed a plate full of French toast in front of him and let the aroma rise up to him. “Milk?”

“I think I need some coffee.”

I laughed a little to hide my utter hatred for him. “I’ll make it. You get started on putting some food in you.”

I made the coffee and sat with Brad while he drank it and ate breakfast. When he finished, he looked slightly renewed. “I do need to talk to you about something,” I said, and Brad put his coffee cup down in front of him. He looked like he wanted to die this time.

“About last night?”

“Not specifically.” I let the words linger. I let him fear what I knew and wallow in the anxiety of it. When even that began to bore me, I continued. “I’m worried about you drinking and driving so much.”

Brad’s shoulders fell as he exhaled. A smile crossed his face, and even though he was clearly wounded, there was a chance he was going to survive. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not. You’re going to get a DUI, or worse, you’re going to kill someone. If Jenna’s accident taught us anything, it’s that none of us are invincible.”

“I’m not your drunk friend, Jenna.”

“No. You’re not. You’re my drunk husband.” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe not a drunk, but you seem to think you’re above any of the problems that come with drunk driving. We live too far away from everything for you to keep going like this.”

“I’m fine.”

“I think we should buy a house in the city.”

“What?” He took another sip of his coffee and scowled at me.

“When we close on this house, we’re going to have a large sum of money. I think we should use it as a down payment on a condo in the city.”

He watched me, trying to decipher my motives.

“Then you’ll be able to crash there when you’ve been drinking or working late, and we’ll be able to take the kids in for nights during the summer or holidays. They’ll love it. And I won’t worry so much about you.”

Brad stared at me for several minutes. I kept busy wiping down the counter in front of him and loading the dishes in the dishwasher. The idea made perfect sense to me. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.

“If not, you need to increase your life insurance.”

Brad and I both laughed. I wasn’t kidding, though.

JANUARY SETTLED INTO THE QUIET
month it always was. Things returned to our normal. Our new house was coming along. The renovations were scheduled to be done by March, and we’d had several showings of our current house. Brad was depressed, and it seemed as if the enormous and cold house was a symbol of something greater to him, but he never talked about it.

I would just be happy to be out of it. I packed up the Christmas decorations and drove them to the basement of our new house. I stored them under the staircase, where the previous owner’s Christmas tree had been. I remembered the purse I’d bought for myself for Christmas the year before and wondered if I knew even then. If, before my accident, I knew he was having an affair. Maybe that was why I’d allowed myself to have one.

Even if that were the case, it didn’t excuse me. Brad having an affair was typical. My affair was disturbing. I’d never been the type. I’d never even considered it a possibility. How had my life gone so off course in such a short time?

Brad’s attention seemed to be forever on his phone. He silenced it, there was never an interruption of a ding or some other annoying notification of infidelity, but it was always a part of our time together. Brad checked it often and whatever he read always seemed to anger him. He was out of his element. Things usually worked out for Brad. It was like watching an out-of-practice musician trying to play. Brad had no idea who he was dealing with in Dharma.

When a married man had an affair with a young girl, he was the only one having an affair. She was dating.

Dharma was going to be a problem—for all of us.

I ignored Brad and his phone. I kept the smile glued to my face, determined not to let Brad know anything had changed about my commitment to our marriage.

I exited my warm car and practically ran to the police station. The wind chill was negative eleven, and the pain on my cheeks as the wind whipped against them confirmed the forecast. I set my bag down on top of my desk and left my coat on as I entered the break room and placed a mug full of water into the microwave for hot tea.

“Morning,” the colonel said as he walked into the room. “Are you warm enough in here? I can turn up the heat.”

I turned to him and raised my eyebrows. I knew he could make it hotter. He only smiled and poured himself a cup of coffee. We were alone in the station, and always alone in my mind.

“Do you feel safe with me?” I asked.

He was in the middle of sipping the steaming coffee. He moved it from his lips and watched me for some explanation.

I shrugged, trying to legitimize the question. “Like, when you’re with me, do you have a sense of safety?”

A small laugh slipped from his lips, and it mesmerized me. “I know what you’re asking. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re asking. Do you not feel safe?”

I looked down. I wasn’t sure why I was asking. It was just every time he was within five feet of me, I felt warm, secure, and calm. I couldn’t imagine I had anywhere near the same effect on him, and I felt bad for him because of it. As if I owed him something, because he made me feel good. Everyone should feel the way I did when he was near me.

“I was just wondering.” I avoided his question. I knew how much he enjoyed evasiveness.

“I don’t
not
feel safe with you. But that’s not the prevailing sense I have when you’re near me.”

We faced each other in the break room. Silence fell between us, and I let the need for him overtake me. It conjured up the memory of standing in my kitchen and crying as he left me.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Hug me.”

He glanced at the hallway and up at the clock. His movements were slow as he placed his coffee on the counter, and I reached across to put my tea next to it. Vince moved within inches of me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He pulled me tight against him, and I inhaled him. I turned my head and let my face rest near his neck. His heartbeat was slow and pulsed heat through me. My arms tightened behind his back.

I stayed quiet and fell into my thoughts and my overwhelming need for him. We were standing on a dock together. It was warm out, and we were dancing. I closed my eyes, yearning to be back there. Then fear slipped between us, and I stiffened in Vince’s arms.

“What?” His lips grazed the top of my head. I could have lain down with him. Forever.

“I remember dancing with you.” Vince ran his hands through my hair, and the fear solidified in my mind. “I was terrified to lose you.”

My cell phone rang at my desk. The sound of it barely penetrated the rare moment of peace and privacy with Vince, but the phone was my only connection to Liv and James when they weren’t with me. I could hear it a mile away.