Winter Blues (13 page)

20

Darlene

Socializing is the last thing on my mind after everything that I have been through today, but plans had already been made before the drama had panned out. I can hardly cancel on my only friends when I’ve wanted them for so long. They’ve assured me that we’re just going for a few quiet drinks locally so I’m still hoping that I can spend some time with Reid before bed. I think we need to act on our promise to put this sorry mess behind us, tonight. I don’t want the opportunity to right us to slip through my fingers.

Reid still isn’t back by the time I’m ready to leave so I assume that he’s working late.
What I don’t want to assume is that he thinks I’m negating on our promise. Just in case, I send him a text message confirming that I have taken my phone and that I will call him later. He doesn’t text back.

I meet Veda and Nile in the park under a low slung sun and I’m almost dazzled by Veda’s glitter ball of a dress as the last of the light explodes in its sequins. It’s thigh high with a cleavage showcasing neckline.

“I thought we were just going for quiet drinks?” I ask, worriedly. I’m not sure whether my worry stems from my casual attire of jeans and a pale tank, or whether it’s because I really do just want a couple of drinks and home.

“Oh, we are,”
Nile confirms. “But, Miss Try-Hard here is hoping to bump into Zach.” She slaps him playfully on the shoulder before flushing just a shade lighter than her titian hair.

“I didn’t know you like Zach?” I say, a little shocked.

“Neither does he.” She shrugs. “But it’s about time he did.” She gestures toward her dress and I smile.

“Well, if he doesn’t notice you in that then he’s definitely gay,” I encourage. Nile pipes up hopefully and we all laugh. “I hope he’s worth it though. You’re going to freeze in that!”

“That’s why we need to stop and get my jacket from work. It’s the only thing that goes with this beaut,” she declares, unaware of my immediate hesitance. I don’t say anything, not wanting to explain why all of a sudden I have an aversion to
The Nest
. Instead, I walk politely behind them as they usher into the bar.

It’
s predictably quiet. I’ve learned that Tuesdays usually are. The only noise comes from Nina’s girlish laugh as she flirts outrageously with Blue behind the bar. My annoyance is immediate but I don’t want to pull out a chunk of her hair, so I consider that progress.

“Evening,” Veda calls, spinning to show Blue her dress. He whistles appreciatively I hear, but I daren’t look. I don’t want to be reminded of what I feel for him right now.

“You come for your jacket?” Blue asks.

“Yup. I’ll get it,” Veda responds.

“No, Darlene will. There’s something for her too.”

All eyes fall on me and I feel myself begin to blush. I follow Blue quickly through the door he’s holding open, needing to get away from
the inquisitive stares and wanting to slap Blue for initiating them.

“What are you doing?” I scorn
as soon as the door shuts behind him. “Do you want them to know about us?”

“I don’t care if they know about us.” He steps closer, causing me to step back against the wall. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

I grip his boulder-like biceps, trying in vain to restrain his advances. “Because I‘ve had a lot on my mind today and I didn’t need you adding to it,” I reply, honestly.

“Is everything okay?”
              “Hardly, but I think it will be.”

“Good.” He looks down at our chests as the space between them decreases and licks his lips provocatively.

“I really need to go before they suspect something, Blue.”
              “A kiss first?” He takes my lips before I can contemplate an answer. His tongue invites itself into my mouth but I don’t deny it. His hands are knitted into my hair and his excitement is pressed against me, encouraging my own arousal. My breath falls heavily into his mouth as his tongue works to remind me how well we do this. Us. His hand falls to my breast and the act prompts me to stop. I can’t get carried away when a curious crowd awaits us on the other side of the door.

“Please, Blue. I need to go.”

“Come back later.”

“I can’t. Reid will be expecting me home.”

“He’ll think you’re still with Team Camp out there.”

I laugh at his description before nodding.
“We’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” he says, mocking my faint accent. “Behave tonight. Y
ou only drink tequila with me, okay?”

“I’m never drinking tequila again,” I assure, remembering the last time all too well.

“We’ll see.”

On our return to the bar, the three of them fall silent, waiting expectantly for either of us to enlighten them. Blue has Veda’s jacket in his hand and so he tosses it over the bar to her.

“You get what you needed?” Nile prompts.

“She’ll get it later,” Blue answers, winking obviously at me. I want to spit at him.

The first bar we walk into lifts my shoulders and lightens my step. Country music blares out around us, and I rejoice in the familiar sound. Double
Trouble laugh at me as they guide me to the bar.

“I told you she’d love it,” says Nile, winking at Veda knowingly.

“How did I not know about this place?” I ask.

“Because you weren’t looking,” he replies. I contemplate his words and deduce that he’s right. “But you’re here now and the first rounds on you!”

I order us beers and we find a table. We chat easily about everything. When you know someone so little there is so much to talk about. Time moves quickly and eventually these two hipsters are ready to try somewhere more them. I agree, so we find a bar a little further out.

Liberty
is overly dark with the only light being emitted from fluorescent strips of various colors. The music is so loud that my head vibrates and the carpet is so used that my feet fuse to the floor like Velcro. It’s pretty small and the heat of the large crowd hits us like a wall of fire as we push through the masses.

“Why is it so busy in here?” I ask Nile as we remove our jackets. We’re looking for seats as Veda looks for drinks.

“Student night.”

Rolling my eyes at the back of his head does little to alleviate my frustration. “I am far too old for student night, Nile.”

“Never!” he exclaims as he bounces excitedly over to an empty, all too sticky table.

“What happened to having a quiet night? I don’t want to get carried away.”

“You should probably tell that to Veda.” I turn to see the aforementioned vixen weaving through the crowd with a tray of shots and a pitcher of margarita. Reid’s going to hate me.

An hour in and peer pressure, along with copious amounts of alcohol, has succeeded in getting me into the spirit of things. I’m grinding away on the dance floor when I feel two hands get comfortable on my hips. I turn with my fist already clenched, but I’m placated at the vision of dark, dangerous eyes. They twinkle with a mischievous smile and I flit between cursing Blue and smiling back.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, removing his hands from their unashamedly familiar spot.

“Veda asked Zach to meet you all here. We were quiet at the bar so I thought I’d tag along.” He doesn’t ask if that’s okay and I have to admire his audacity.

“Okay, great, but don’t think you can paw me in front of everyone,” I reaffirm as he makes an effort to claim my hips again.

“There is nothing corr
upt about us dancing together, Pilgrim.”

“There is the way that
you
dance.”

“Fine, well I’ll offer my services elsewhere then.” With his hands up in defeat he backs away. I continue to dance but feel so much
more self-conscious now.

Nile gestures that he’s ready for another drink and so I follow with gratitude. Veda is too busy working on Zach to care about her thirst and so Nile and I sip on our beers
overlooking the dance floor.

I can’t help but notice Blue amongst the par
ty. He towers over the majority, true, but it’s not just that. He has a presence, an aura, that screams out from the rest and I’m not the only one to have noticed. A herd of females have gathered around him, leaving their shame at the bar along with their sobriety. When Blue meets my gaze he smiles wickedly.

This is all such an act and it’s ridiculous.

What’s more ridiculous is that it’s working. He wants my attention and he has it. He wants me to be jealous and I am. I hate him, but I hate myself a thousand times more.

Handing my drink to Nile, I excuse
myself and head to the toilets in search of Lord knows what. Nothing there is going to relieve me of this overpowering disgust. I’m not going to find any peace in a cubicle. I’ll find it at home
.

I want to go home
.

I’m just about to walk into the ladies bathroom when my wrist is captured and I am tugged hard into the disabled toilets. Blue locks the door behind us.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, outraged by his belief that he can manipulate me like this.

“What’s your problem,
Darlene?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! You tell me to keep my hands off of you but when they’re on somebody else you shoot daggers at me across the room?”

“I wasn’t shooting...”

“Stop lying to yourself!” He spins me around until my back is against the door and his grip on my waist is so eager that I’m almost lifted from the floor. “You’re pissed because you were jealous and you’re jealous because you want me just as much as I want you,” he grates, undoing the buttons of my jeans as he speaks. His voice is menacing and hot and I’m paralyzed with confusing desire. As his fingers hover over my sex he growls, “Stop analyzing everything and just go with what
this
wants. Feel how wet you are? That’s all me, baby.”  

I moan as his fingers move against me, stripping away the last of my resolve before following with my clothes. I’m crying as I tumble into an all new low of fucking in public bathrooms.

Hell is getting so close that I am beginning to burn.

Not even the chill of Chicago can save me now.

21

Reid

One of my all time favorite songs is blaring through the speakers, pounding on the walls of our apartment as my good friend, Jack Daniels, attempts to comfort me. It’s funny how it takes being drunk to finally understand the lyrics to
Mr. Brightside
. Suddenly, the song is not so great after all. Nor is the whiskey. I’m halfway through the bottle and it hasn’t even begun to take the edge off of the pain that comes with the knowledge that she is with him. She hasn’t told me as such, but I know she is.

Was.

I look up and see her standing in the doorway to the apartment, scouring the room in distaste. I scour with her, finding it perfectly acceptable, except maybe for the flowers which were “accidently” knocked over, the books that “accidently” fell from the shelf and my clothes which got discarded in my solo striptease. I look down. At least I kept my boxers on.

The music cuts
out and is immediately replaced by a hoarse sounding Darlene.

“I said, what are you doing?”

I shrug before taking a swig of my glass. Damn, empty. Lifting myself lazily from
her
chair, I stalk past her into the kitchen to pour myself another, but she snatches the bottle from my grip. If she were a man I would cripple her.

“Oh, you’re allowed to drink but I’m not?” I say, towering over her until she backs away.

“You’re drunk enough.”

“And you’re a fucking liar.” She recoils like she’s been bitten, and she doesn’t stop until she is in the safety of the bathroom. The sound of the door slamming echoes down the hall and rattles my anger. I fight the urge to continue goading her
, but I lose, miserably.

Pounding down the hall
, I imagine telling her that the promise is broken. My fist is inches from pummeling the door when I hear a broken sob. The anger is thrown from my body with the velocity of a fastball, leaving only booze intensified numbness. The numbness trickles away with each second I hear her cry until I am nothing but a man hurting for his wife. My head falls against the door as I press for a connection with her. It’s not enough.

When I open the door a thick mist pours out. I push through the hot cloud to find Darlene
sitting on the floor of the shower with the glass door ajar. The water turns to steam as it hits her red flesh. How hot does she have it?

“Darl
, what are you doing?”

She doesn’t look at me. Her chin is rested on folded arms that sit atop her knees. She’s never looked as vulnerable as she looks
at this moment, and that realization has me falling to the floor. I’m about to crawl into the shower with her when she stops me.

“Please, Reid, leave me for five minutes.”

“Let me look after you.”

“I don’t need looking after. I-I just need you to go.”

The words hurt as much as the water on her back probably does. I get up, prepared to grant her wish, and turn the temperature gauge down before I leave.

I wait for her in our bedroom across the hall, trying to work out what she has been doing while I have been throwing myself a pity party. She had to have slept with him. I can practically see the guilt dripping off of her. At least she’s ashamed. At least she isn’t rejoicing in the act.

Oh God, the act.

I swallow back the nausea that throbs in my gut. It’s one thing knowing that at some point she has been with another m
an but to know that it happened just a moment ago is sickening.

Where did he have her?

Did he make her come?

FUCK!

I can’t do this. I don’t have it in me to sit back and let her screw around. Not when I can imagine it all too easily. The image of them fucking is as persistent as if it has been glued to my eyelids. I race to get to the kitchen sink as I fight the rising bile, but find the bathroom door open. She’s not there. I douse my face in water, rubbing hard to bruise the image that sits in my vision. It doesn’t work. I heave again but this time I can’t deny it. I wretch into the toilet in repetitive rolls, but none of it empties me of the nausea. No, it’s embedded too deeply. It runs through my entire body, my mind, not just my stomach. When I can’t physically find any more relief I brush my teeth and take a quick shower. I feel grim. And disappointingly sober.

I dry myself and wrap a towel around
my waist to seek out Darlene, finding her in her chair, of course. She too, is only in a towel. I stand across the room from her, gauging her quietness. Silent tears are highlighted by the moonlight that trails through the window and she doesn’t wipe them away. She’s past trying to hide her emotions.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the stillness cocooning my voice and doubling its volume.

“Don’t be sorry.”

“It’s no
t something I can control,” I add. She offers nothing. “Come to bed, Darl.”

She sighs so heavily
that her shoulders lift and I see further tears drip from her raw blues. She’s shaking her head when I cross the room. Stopping in front of her, I reach for her hands.               “You are my wife. You should be in our bed.”

She allows me to lift her until she’s standing.
We’re walking when her towel falls and she makes a move to collect it. “Leave it.”

“Reid, I can’t...”

“Baby, I’m not going to...” I sigh at the very idea that I need to pacify her this way. “You don’t have to worry about me making a pass at you. I just want to be with you.”

She nods her head and I’m about to walk us to our bedroom when a sob breaks out from her puffy lips and doesn’t stop. She weeps into her hands until I pull her to me, where she lets the tears fall against my bare chest. Skin to skin we stand and I take on every one of her heavy sobs. I accept them for both of us.

Eventually her sobbing eases into sniffles and I’m able to lift her and carry her to our room. Gently, I lay her in bed and tighten the covers around her like one would a child. Opting for pajama pants, I dress and climb into the sheets. She’s facing away from me so I pull her near, my chest to her back. Our legs entwine and I have a brief moment of believing that all is as it should be. But when hot tears fall against my arm I am reminded of just how far we still have to go.

“This is where you sleep from now on, baby, only here.”

She doesn’t voice her agreement, but she pulls my arms tighter against her and I construe that to be good enough.