Yearning (26 page)

But what if he did? Josh, the baby, Max, her parents – they all made it impossible. They weren’t part of her picture of a perfect future with Solomon. There’d only ever been just the two of them, with no one and nothing coming between them. Life would never be like that. She was pregnant, for God’s sake. She had Josh to think of. And Max.

She stirred sugar into her coffee, staring into space until it was too cool to drink. Josh drew pictures on the table top with the mashed banana and poured the milk from his bowl over the top. She was staring at her mug when Max came into the room.

‘Josh! Hey!’

Max grabbed the bowl from Josh’s hands and glared at her. ‘Why didn’t you stop him? Look at the mess he’s made.’

Josh started to cry.

She stammered as she leapt for the sink and picked up the dishcloth. ‘Sorry . . . sorry! I wasn’t watching.’

Max tried to calm Joshua while she cleaned up.

‘Are you all right?’

She concentrated on Josh’s gooey mess, avoiding Max’s gaze. ‘Yeah. Just a bit tired. Baby’s keeping me awake at night, you know.’

After Max left, she settled Josh with some toys in the lounge and checked her mobile phone. There was one message from Solomon at 4:21 am.

What happened? Where did u go?

She smiled. Of course he cared. It was silly of her to think otherwise. She pressed out a reply.

Reception dropped out. It was wonderful 2 b with u again. Thank u. xo

*

Four nights later, at midnight, Solomon texted her again. The sound of the phone vibrating on the kitchen bench roused her from a wispy sleep. She slipped out of bed and rushed to catch the message while it was still fresh.

Hey babe. I miss you. R u alone?

This time she didn’t hesitate. She was in such a hurry to call him back she almost ran to the sunroom. Guilt or no guilt, she deserved this. After what Max had put her
through in the last few years, she felt she was owed this scrap of happiness. Afterwards, buzzing with a vibrancy she’d long forgotten, she sent Solomon a text message.

I am woken by a yearning that runs so deep, even my soul is wet with the pleasure of it. The shadow of your touch, still warm against my skin, makes my spirit sing. Thank you for waking me.

*

Life became a sensitive balancing act. During the day she did her best to function normally while the memory of Solomon glittered and blinded her. She took naps with Josh. Her belly swelled to ripeness and the clandestine calls in the dark centre of night continued. She became nocturnal, waiting for Solomon to make contact, at the same time wishing that he wouldn’t.

An ache grew within her, a longing for physical contact. She turned to Max to alleviate it, but their encounters were brief and left her deeply dissatisfied. Standing in the rush of the shower she masturbated in an attempt to relieve the longing within her. Instead of satiating her, the act kept her in a state of perpetual arousal. Only in Solomon’s disembodied voice could she find relief.

The longer the contact with Solomon went on, the more relaxed she became about it. It was surprisingly easy, hiding her secret. It made her feel good. In fact, she hadn’t felt so good in years. She felt younger, more optimistic, more hopeful. Sometimes she even wondered if she should try again with Max. If he could share the kind of luminous passion she was experiencing with Solomon,
perhaps she might make something of this disappointing marriage they were caught in and she could let Solomon go.

But she knew the idea was ridiculous. What she wanted from Max he was not only incapable of, but he did not – would not – understand. Max was quickly and simply satisfied. For him it was all about the big bang at the end, forget about the vast possibilities of the prelude.

While she entertained herself with thoughts about escaping with Solomon, she knew they were empty fantasies. Would the free and unfettered Solomon take on the complications she brought with her – two very young children and a desperate ex-husband? If he loved her enough he might, but she doubted it.

At the same time she was afraid of what it might mean to lose Max. She watched him fall back into melancholy moods. He slouched around their home, miserable and isolated. His behavior reminded her of when Josh was a small baby, just before he descended into the oblivion of alcohol. She worried that his demons may be lingering close enough to the surface to drag him back to where he was before she left him. For all his promises, she wasn’t so sure that the changes he’d made were for good. She did her best to ignore his despondent face, hoping he wouldn’t want to jeopardize his second chance with her.

Somehow she straddled her two lives, nocturnal and daylight, balancing the joy of being reunited with Solomon with the hard pain of betrayal. But in the narrow space between, the breath was being squeezed from her and she was beginning to turn blue. In the mornings she sat staring stupidly out of the kitchen window, waiting impatiently
for Max to leave for work, the mug of tea between her hands going cold. All she wanted was to be alone with her memories of the night before. She made her face a blank page when Max began to question her.

‘You were up late last night again?’

‘Couldn’t sleep.’

‘That’s been happening a lot lately.’

‘Has it?’

‘You’re not tired?’

‘No more than usual.’

The truth was she was very tired, but so full of the thrill of Solomon that she couldn’t rest. Sleep came only in light butterfly dozes, always ready to flit away at the slightest noise or disruption. She slept when Josh napped and was mowed down in the evenings by exhaustion as the tiredness came upon her in a heavy burst, thick with vivid dreams.

She guarded her mobile phone like a jealous dog. Max began to worry at her, his concern slowly transforming into suspicion. She knew the truth would come out somehow, eventually, and probably snap them in two. She felt selfish and stupid and driven, but there was too much happiness in having Solomon back to give him up just yet.

One evening, after Max had put Joshua to bed, he started fearfully pleading with her to love him again. She’d gone to bed early feeling unwell, the string of late nights taking their toll. A scratchy throat was quickly developing into a fever and sickness was overcoming her. She lay with her back to Max while he tried to badger her into confessing what they both instinctively knew was at the heart of the distance between them. She didn’t love
him. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her as he needled her, desperate for answers.

‘I’m really trying to make this work but you . . . ’ He struggled to finish the sentence. ‘Something’s wrong. I don’t think you want to love me anymore.’

‘You haven’t been very lovable the last three years,’ she replied.

Max stared at his hands. ‘I know. I’m sorry. But I’ve been trying, hon, you know I have. I don’t drink anymore. I take care of you and Josh. I just want you back.’

She hated these conversations, hated him lamenting what he’d thought he’d lost. She was sick and impatient with him. ‘I’m right here Max.’

He looked directly at her, sorrow in his very being as he spoke. ‘No. You’re not.’

‘Please Max. I feel like shit. Will you just let me sleep?’

Max left the room. She watched his dejected back as he closed the door gently behind him.

*

Light and sound suddenly filled the room. Through bleary eyes and a body heavy with fever she saw Max thundering into the room.

‘What the fuck is this?’

He was shouting at her. Waving something in his hand. Her mind swam in confusion. Her throat was raw and her forehead burned.

‘What?’ Her voice was hoarse. She started to cough.

Grabbing her shoulder he pulled her up from the pillows and shoved the glowing screen of her mobile phone into her face, menace in every part of him.

‘I said, what – the – fuck – is – this?’ Each word emphasised as if for a small child.

Her head pounding, she tried to focus her murky vision on the small black letters.

R u awake & horny? I want to run my hot tongue over your beautiful pussy.

Oh God. Her stomach bottomed out as though she were in a fast lift.

Max was breathing hard, staring at her with eyes too cold to bear. ‘You’re having an affair. I knew it. You bitch. You faithless bitch.’

Unable to respond through the grogginess of the fever she just shook her head. Max grabbed her and shook her hard.

‘Who the fuck is Solomon? You tell me now. Who?’

She was whimpering. ‘No, it’s nothing. Really. Nothing. I haven’t done anything with him. It’s just the phone. Believe me. I’m sorry, Max, I’m sorry.’

Furious, Max brought the phone back to his own face and started pressing buttons. She knew he’d find the other messages. She’d been meaning to delete them for days. Weakly she reached for the phone but he shoved her hand away.

His eyes widened as she watched and the muscles in his neck and jaw tensed and flexed. In the silence of the room his mounting rage was thunderous – short breaths, low groans, shakes of his head as he read text after text from and to Solomon.

He began to read them out aloud. ‘ “I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me.” “I want to lick you till you cry for
mercy.” “I want you so bad I’m always wet.” You . . . you sent him this . . . this filth?’

He spat the words at her. She couldn’t answer.

‘You fucking whore. I can’t believe I’ve wasted myself on you. I gave up everything for you. My life, my freedom, booze. I gave you Josh and this one.’

He pointed viciously at her swollen belly and his lip began to quiver. His wild eyes gave way to tears. ‘I loved you,’ he whispered.

She winced. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ She was so ill she couldn’t make sense of anything.

Suddenly he threw his head back and roared with the agony of it. Snapping the phone shut he raised his arm, intending to throw it to the floor, but stopped.

‘Who is this prick?’ he demanded.

‘It’s no one. It’s nothing. Max, you’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t slept with him. I haven’t. Truly.’

She was begging without knowing why. Her nose was so blocked she couldn’t breathe.

‘You expect me to believe that?’ he yelled. ‘Look at this. Look!’

He opened the phone to a message and shoved it into her face.

I want to touch your secret places. I can’t wait to feel you cum under my hands.

His voice was at screaming pitch. ‘What’s that, you lying bitch?’ He paused, catching his breath. When he spoke again his face was twisted with disgust, his voice was sinister quiet.

‘Who – is – he?’

She sobbed weakly. ‘No one you know.’

Realisation descended upon Max as he looked again at the phone. Striding to the end of the bed out of her reach he found a message from Solomon and, pulling his own phone out of his pocket dialled the number. When she realised what he was doing she tried to stop him.

‘Don’t, Max. Please calm down. Will you please? God, I’m too sick for this.’ She found it difficult to cry. Her nose was blocked and the fever was making her shiver. She began coughing.

She heard the timbre of Solomon’s voice as he answered.

Max was restrained, waiting with grim eagerness.

‘Sorry, I missed your name. This is Solomon who?’

With ominous calm Max asked Solomon if he knew her. He glared at her as he pressed the phone to his ear, his body stiff with tension.

‘What business it of
mine
? I’m her husband, you sleazy prick.’

Max paused, righteous as an evangelist. ‘Don’t patronise me you god-damned bastard. You’ve been screwing around with her. Who the hell do you think you are? She’s pregnant, you pervert. That’s my kid in there! You’ve got no right to come sniffing around here looking for a root. She’s my wife, hear me?’

She heard a raised voice on the other end, a torrent of words.

‘You listen to me you miserable prick, if I ever get my hands on you they’ll have to scrape you off the footpath, do you hear me? You stay away from my wife or I’ll fucking kill you.’

Max snapped his phone shut. Picking up her phone again, he wrenched it in half with a crack, tossing the remains onto the bed. He was breathing hard, his eyes fierce. ‘Well, that’s the end of that. You won’t be seeing him anymore.’

She couldn’t look at him. He grimaced at her, menace in every part of him.

‘Who the fuck is he anyway? How do you know him?’ he growled.

‘He was one of my high school teachers,’ she whimpered, sniffling.

Max glowered at her and for a moment she thought he might hit her. Instead he started for the door.

‘Where are you going?’

He hesitated, turning to face her. When he spoke his voice was as cruel as death. ‘I can’t stay here. I’m taking Josh to stay with your parents. See what your Dad has to say. Then I might go looking for a teacher. You always said I needed a better education.’

She called after his retreating back. ‘Max. Please! Don’t.’

But he was gone before she’d finished speaking.

Sobbing she picked up the bits of mobile phone. She wanted to call Solomon and warn him but his number was stored in the broken pieces of black and silver plastic in her hands. She fell back against the pillows, sweating and weak. Powerless to do anything, unable to even contemplate her fractured life, she surrendered to the surreal blur of fever.

*

Joe was brushing his teeth when Max banged on the front door. Grumbling, he opened it to find a sleepy child being shoved into his arms. Max shifted from one foot to the other, not able to keep eye contact with his father-in-law.

‘Joe, can you take care of Josh for me?’

‘Why? What the hell’s happened now?’

‘She’s sick,’ grumbled Max. ‘Really sick.’ He was in two minds about telling Joe the truth. After everything she’d put them all through she bloody-well deserved to be shamed.

‘So?’

Max was guarded. ‘Look, she’s crook as a dog and I’ve got some business I need to take care of.’

Joe eyed him suspiciously. Max knew Joe wouldn’t appreciate this unexpected disturbance so late at night. He had a good relationship with his father-in-law, he trusted him and he didn’t want to give him the run around. But it was difficult to admit that he’d failed again.