Because (Seven Year Itch #4)(51)

“Because you know me. I made mistakes in the past. I admitted to talking to girls online, but I’ve never cheated on you. Whoever this person is, it’s not me. I meant what I said to you. I want to reconcile. I won’t take you for granted.”

“I’m going to ignore the message.”

“Good. Hopefully they’ll go away. I don’t want my perfect name out there on that site.”

He’s ridiculous to a fault. “I’m sorry for earlier,” I offer. “Some feelings are hard to control. I’d like it if we could be friends, Bran. I hate having to avoid each other. I miss you. I don’t regret the choice I made to leave. I think it was necessary. We were in a bad place. We were at war with each other, with ourselves even.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

I extend my hand to shake his. “Friends?”

“For now,” he replies.

“You’re not going to make this transition easy?”

“Transition? I’m not transitioning. I’m following my heart.”

“Oh for goodness sakes. Not that again,” I tease.

He winks at me. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He laughs before continuing. “I’m kidding. I’m happy to be your friend, Shay. I’m miserable being nothing, so this is a good start.”

Talking about being friends was all fine and dandy, though I was kidding myself if I thought I could be around my husband and not want more. In the time we’ve been living apart I’ve been able to see how many of our problems were created by me alone. Brandon played his part in a lot too, but most were only because my suspicions led me to believe otherwise. Truth be told, Brandon is a hard worker. He’s always taken care of me, and I love him for that. Given the amount of time I spent dwelling on what can’t be changed, I’m certain falling right back into our old ways would be a lot easier than tiptoeing around the idea of indifference.

I’d like to think time heals all wounds, but how much time is needed? When is enough, enough? When life gives you lemons do you make lemonade or run to the grocery store and trade them in for something better?

People may not approve of my actions or the way I handle my marriage. They might think I’m weak or psychotic. Imagine loving someone to the brink of losing yourself. Then imagine that love being ripped away from you. That’s where my fear derives from. It’s a painful reality I’ve somehow learned to accept and live with. It’s something I’ll have to work on every day until I die.

Brandon is my kryptonite. As much as I know he might be bad for me, I crave more. I need it, because nothing else can give me what he does.

It’s weird when we pull up at the house. I’m not sure if I should rush out of the car, just say goodbye, hug him, or something more. We’ve agreed to be friends. What does that mean between two people who have shared so much? Is it possible to have a non-sexual relationship when two people are extremely attracted to one another and had an intimate past? I’m lost.

“So, I guess I’ll go before the bus gets here. I don’t want Ab to be confused.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“We’ve talked about a bunch of things in the past hour. I need to be sure you’re still going to come to the wedding.”

“I said I’d be there.”

“And the party tonight?”

“Count me out. I think it’s best if we steer clear of each other until the big event.”

I can tell he’s not pleased. Brandon is simple-minded. He expects problems to go away quickly. I knew this when I agreed to a friendship. Of course he’d assume I’d jump right in bed with him. “I look forward to Saturday.”

“I was thinking I might not be able to pick you up. Do you think you and Ab could drive there and then I’ll leave with you guys?” He pauses for a second. “Or I’ll just catch a ride with my parents if you don’t feel like dropping me off.”

“I can drive. It’s fine.”

Before I know it’s happening he’s kissing me on the cheek. “We might be a mess when we’re together, but it’s a beautiful mess. Don’t stand me up on Saturday, Shay.”

I go to get out of the car and stop to ask a question. “Would you want this if I looked the way I used to?”

He seems irritated I’d ask it. “You already know the answer to that question, babe.”

Do I? Is the truth in my heart and I just refuse to accept it? If it is I don’t know myself the way I think I do. It’s necessary to reevaluate my life again, and this time with a positive attitude instead of the old one that only promises a lifetime of regret and loneliness.

“But you hated me?”

“Sometimes. You hated me too.”

“I did. I still do,” I manage with a giggle.

“Yeah, but as much as you hate me, you love me more.” He pulls away, leaving me to stew in his last words. He’s right. If nothing else, he knows me better than I know myself.



I spend the rest of the evening pondering on life; where I want to be and if I see Brandon as a part of it. One thing is for certain, I can’t stop loving him. Imagining divorce only breaks my heart. I look into my daughter’s eyes and see some things are worth fighting for, but I also know there are still things I have yet to figure out. A part of me wants to trust him. I owe him a second chance, but not if it risks all the hard work I’ve done to find myself again. He has to love me for me, instead of the person I’ve turned into. Time is on my side. I have plenty of it. I don’t have to make a decision today or the day after. If a second chance will ever come for us, I’ll be sure about it.