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The sun had set and the winter skies were dark, matching Miranda’s disposition. She left work early at Carly and Mr. Richardson’s insistence. They heard no protest from her; she was a walking zombie. The numbness faded to anger, and she hoped to channel that emotion before the sadness set in.
The drive down the back roads towards her home didn’t hold the usual appeal. Seeing her husband after a long and grueling shift never failed to put a smile on her face. One kiss had the power to make even the worst day better. Except a kiss wouldn’t solve her current dilemma. No matter how good it would feel, or how much she craved the connection.
She had nothing and no one to rush home to. The dark, empty house held no appeal. A depressing reality that hurt more given the time of year. The twinkling Christmas lights on the houses she drove past couldn’t brighten her mood. Her favorite holiday was days away, and the last thing she wanted to do was celebrate.
The talk with Carly hadn’t exactly gone as expected. Miranda hoped for clarity and direction by spilling her guts to her friend, but her brain still resembled a hodgepodge of thoughts and ideas. Carly was adamant, the only solution was to kick Chuck to the curb and toss three years of wedded bliss and near two decades of love in the garbage.
Infidelity was impossible to comprehend because Chuck loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her. There was never anyone else for him, and he told her so constantly. He never even looked at other women the way most men did. It made little sense, so how could she throw away a lifetime of happiness on something unexplainable? Miranda wasn’t prepared to go there.
Another option was revenge. Even the score and hurt Chuck like he’d hurt her. Miranda didn’t know how one would go about getting tit for tat in a situation like hers. The notion of retaliation was foreign to her; she’d never needed to use such drastic measures. Never had to be the person who deliberately set out to hurt another. The concept gave her chills.
She wasn’t sure what to do about her marriage. The only thing she knew without a shadow of doubt was she loved Chuck, and despite his indiscretion, he loved her too. Unfortunately, that didn’t forgive his actions. The why nagged at her. People didn’t cheat out of the blue.
Carly’s advice was a hard pill to swallow. Miranda wasn’t sure she had the stomach for either option.
As she pulled onto the mile-long driveway, she noticed the lights were on at the house. A string of white flashing lights illuminated the front porch of their ranch style bungalow. That was odd considering she had turned them off before she left for work. Nearing the house, she noticed her husband’s truck parked in its spot furthest from the front door. Miranda got the prime parking inside the detached two-car garage because Chuck spoiled her. There also wasn’t enough room for his truck with all of his tools scattered about.
She readied herself for a confrontation, but she wasn’t ready to face him yet. A few days wasn’t enough time to dull the ache or process what he’d done. As she marched towards the front steps, she resented his presence. Fumed at his lack of sensitivity. He was rushing her, and backing her into a corner. If he pushed his luck; he wouldn’t like the outcome.
The wreath on the door had been a Christmas present from Chuck’s mother their first year as a married couple. It was ugly and tacky with a large shiny sequined pink sash across the center, but Miranda loved it. His mother made it herself with love and the couple displayed it proudly every year since.
Her heart constricted, would this be the last year it hung on her door?
There was only one way to find out. She opened the front door and entered her home. The heat and scent of basil and tomatoes greeted her. Her mouth watered, but it had nothing to do with the Italian feast cooking in her kitchen. Chuck was shirtless, on his knees and holding a bouquet of red long-stemmed roses.
He looked damn good, and sexier than he had a right to given the circumstances. His muscles bulged and glistened with a sheen of moisture. Any other night, she would have tackled him to the floor and made love to him right there on the hard-wood floor. If he thought he was getting sex, he could think again. But seeing those firm pecks and tiny erect nipples made her panties wet.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered, betraying her desire.
He shuffled closer on his knees. “I missed you. Being away from you is fucking torture, I love you so much. Miranda, please talk to me.” His lips stayed parted, begging for a kiss.
She felt the same way he did, and she desperately wanted to seal her mouth over his. But this was his fault. They separated because he messed around on her. She turned away and removed her coat and boots. Her hands shook, and she tried to steady them and keep her strength.
When she turned back, he was crawling towards her, looking like a model from a diesel mechanics pinup poster. Posed like a centerfold from a firefighter calendar. The ones stocked with sexy half naked men, only Chuck was a mechanic. If they made a calendar for blue-collar workers’ then her husband should be on it.
The sadness she felt was visible around his eyes. It seemed like he hadn’t slept well, which should have made her happy. A huge part of her wanted to kiss him, hug him, and tell him everything would be all right, but she wanted to strangle him first. Wrap her fingers around his neck and squeeze. There was another part of him, a long and thick part she longed to squeeze too.
A week without sex was messing with her brain. Chuck’s arms seemed bigger, stronger and more capable of manhandling her the way she craved. She loved the way the light sprinkling of chest hair darkened around his navel, showcasing his taut abs. He had the body of a man who worked hard and played harder. Looking at him hurt too much. He should put his shirt back on.
“Where are your clothes? Forgot them at your lover’s place.” The reminder of his affair was enough to knock the lust from her.
“Don’t even joke like that. You came home early, I hoped to surprise you with your favorites and beg for a chance to talk. I heard your car pull up as I was stepping out of the shower. Being here, like this, groveling at your feet was more important.” He held out the flowers for her to take.
Miranda didn’t accept his offer and placed her hands on her hips. “Why are you really here, Charles?”
“You only call me that when you’re super ticked off, but you know why I’m here. I love you, and I am so sorry.”
“I’ll repeat my previous question, this time try being honest. Why are you here?”
“Miranda, I am being honest. I don’t want to be away from you, I love—.”
“No, if you loved me, you would have kept your dick in your pants. You wouldn’t have betrayed me. Don’t you dare insult me and lie to my face by saying you love me.” She tapped her sock covered foot and closed her eyes.
Maybe if she blinked for five seconds, it would all disappear.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
No such luck. When she opened her eyes, her husband was still on his knees, holding out flowers because he slept with another woman.
He considered her before speaking again. “I hurt you, and I will forever hate myself for what happened. My intention was never to insult you, or hurt you, but please understand that whatever happened in no way diminished my love for you.”
She laughed, a humorless and hollow sound. “Could have fooled me.”
“Dammit! Tell me what to do to make this better. I’ll do anything. I can’t lose you.” The desperation in his voice was too much.
A tear escaped, and she hated the salty drop for betraying her. His words hurt almost as much as his indiscretion. She wanted to hit the rewind button and tell her boss she couldn’t make it to work. But if Chuck was going to cheat, it didn’t matter what day. It would happen. Her marriage had become a farce, and she didn’t know when that happened.
“Why? Tell me why you did it. It’s killing me, Chuck, was it all the baby talk? Cause if you didn’t want a baby yet, there were other ways to tell me.” A sob tore from her throat. A baby had been all she thought about for the past year since Chuck agreed to try. He’d been on board, she thought, but maybe he’d been lying to her all this time.
He had delayed their efforts because he wanted to focus on building his business. She would have been fine, happy even, if they’d accidentally gotten pregnant years ago, but it wasn’t meant to be. Chuck had dreams of playing for the NHL, but broke his leg their senior year and it never healed properly. His backup was fixing trucks and heavy machinery.
He owned and operated a mechanic shop in the small town where they grew up. She was beyond proud of him and put her dreams on hold to support him. He busted his butt to create a solid reputation, and she supported his decision. Now he was more stable and had another mechanic on staff. He had more home time, and he could be the father he wanted to be. Chuck would make a wonderful father someday.
“I want to make babies with you. I still want the future we talked about.”
Hearing him talk about babies and creating her dream future hurt too much. Miranda felt winded, like his words had been a physical blow to her stomach. “No, you obviously don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have put our future in jeopardy. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have fucked another woman.” She cussed, and the word hung in the air like smoke before a blazing fire.
This wasn’t the first time he’d slept with someone else. But that one and only other time was different.
Profanity wasn’t part of her vocabulary. Chuck swore like a sailor, but Miranda rarely talked like that, cussing and putting people on the spot. She was raised to be polite and give people the benefit of doubt. Those traits had gotten her nothing but a broken heart. She walked past her husband and into the kitchen. The air became too thick to breathe.
Chuck made dinner like he said. Her favorite veggie lasagna was bubbling in a casserole dish on the counter. The table was set with candles, more flowers and soft music played in the background. Most people would think he was trying too hard with the romantic scene and loving words, but that was standard Chuck. He always took care of her. Doted on her like a princess. It broke her heart more to see their usual routine.
The first time seeing him since she kicked him out wasn’t going well. It was torture on so many levels. She couldn’t sit and pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. Chuck walked in wearing a t-shirt which clung to his body in all the right places.
Her heart and her sex were at war. She wanted to rip the clothes off him and make love, but she hadn’t forgiven him. She blamed herself a little because they’d been abstaining to only have sex while she was ovulating. Stupid plan that backfired in a big way. Chuck loved sex. They both did, and before the baby talk started, they screwed like rabbits on a daily basis; sometimes more.
Marriage and time hadn’t dulled the cravings. They acted like insatiable teenagers most days. She doubted that it would ever slow. But that didn’t mean one dinner on bended knees would be enough. Heck no.
She marched over to the table and yanked hard on the green tablecloth with tiny white snowflakes. The candles, flowers, and place settings fell to the floor with a loud clatter. What she wanted was for him to bend her over on the table and fill her with his cock. Press her chest to the wooden top and plow into her until she couldn’t concentrate. She wanted to scream until the pain went away. Instead she quietly and very calmly faced him.
“You need to leave.” She glanced at the floor to make sure she hadn’t inadvertently started a fire. After she confirmed she hadn’t set the house ablaze, she continued. “I need time without you. It’s impossible to think with you here.”
“I’ll do anything you say; please tell me we have a chance. Tell me I didn’t ruin the best thing in my life.”
Miranda couldn’t answer that question yet. But with Carly’s plan swimming through her brain, they stood a chance.
He approached her slowly, cautiously. She didn’t stop him. “I love you, babe.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.
She’d never seen him so deflated and sad. His bravado and massive shoulders were hunched, making the over six-foot-four mammoth of a man appear small, almost frail.
It broke her more to see him hurt, but he brought this on; not her. She’d love nothing more than to bury her face in a pint of ice-cream, but her marriage would not save itself. If she wanted her marriage to recover, and find a way past this, then she needed reinforcements.
She walked into the home office and booted her laptop. A trip to the city was in order. Something she dreaded doing alone, since the crime rate had skyrocketed lately. The holidays often brought out the worst in people, confirmed by recent headlines regarding the disappearances of several youth.
Any other day, she would have drawn a bath and soaked her sorrows away, but not tonight.
