Frayed Silk(10)

“G’night.” She rolls over onto her stomach, and I walk down the hall, grabbing some clean clothes and closing myself in the bathroom.

Once under the hot spray, I try to let it wash some of the tension away. I shouldn’t be tense when my husband comes home. I shouldn’t grow nervous every time I hear his car pull in. But I am, and I do.

This shit needs to stop. Lola’s right. I can’t keep doing this.

I turn the shower off and dry myself before getting dressed.

Resolved, I head back down stairs and find him in the living room, still in his work clothes as he flicks through his phone with the TV on some sports channel in the background. I tug out my kitting basket, grabbing my needles and the cardigan that needs finishing before trying to get comfortable on the opposite couch.

It takes about ten minutes, but I finally gain enough courage to ask, “Can we talk? Please?”

He taps away at his phone, not even so much as glancing up at me.

“What about?” he mumbles distractedly.

I clear my throat a little. “Well, us.”

He doesn’t even blink. I hear the email notification go off on his phone as he continues to stare down at it.

“Leo …” I warn quietly.

“What?” he snaps. “There’s nothing we need to discuss. We’ve been over this.”

I know, but fuck it, one last shot, right? Before I allow myself to completely give up.

“That’s the thing, though. We haven’t, not really. Can’t you feel this?” I ask, feeling my heart try to climb up my throat when he continues to ignore me. “This isn’t right. It’s getting worse, and I don’t know what else I can do, what I’ve done wrong, or how I can fix it. Not when you won’t even look at me most days.”

He rights himself on the couch, running a hand through his hair and making it stand on end in that sexy way it does. But he stays quiet, and I think he’ll ignore me again until he says, “You know you haven’t done anything wrong because there’s nothing wrong, Christ. Stop trying to find something that isn’t even there.” He stands, and I watch as he leaves the room while growling at me, “I’ve given you two beautiful children, a beautiful home, and a beautiful life, what more do you want from me?”

You, I almost say. I just want you.

But feeling my heart slam violently against my chest, I shock myself by saying something else entirely. “I’m having an affair.”

He freezes in the doorway. Something, at last.

I don’t know what made me say it, especially when it isn’t exactly true. But it could be. And I think I want him to realize that. To realize he could lose me. Because maybe if he does, he’ll put a stop to this insanity.

He doesn’t turn around when he finally speaks. His voice is quiet and as cutting as glass, slicing into my trembling skin. “Do whatever you want. We’re not getting divorced.”

Then he’s gone, and I’m left staring at the wall as tears cloud over my vision before spilling silently down my cheeks.





Pulling into the parking lot of the kids’ school, I park and jump out to grab their bags.

“Okay, don’t forget to hand the permission slip in to Mr. Andrews, Charlie.” I pass their bags over and then try to fix his messy brown hair.

“Mom, stop,” he hisses.

“But did you even brush it this morning? It looks like you just rolled out of bed,” I say as I try to smooth it back down again. It’s cute how much it’s like his father’s, but it’s not exactly sexy-sophisticated on a nine-year-old boy in a school where appearance is important.

Greta giggles at Charlie’s annoyed expression behind her hand.

“Shut it, pip-squeak,” he growls at her.

“Hey!” I admonish. “What did I tell you about speaking to her like that?”

“Sorry,” he mutters.

I kiss them both and watch as they run inside as the bell rings. Then wave to Lola, who has to work today and is trying to drink her coffee while navigating the mass of traffic, all trying to leave the lot at the same time.

“Call me,” she mouths.

I nod, turning around and about to climb back in my car when I spot Fiona standing next to it.

“Hey, honey,” she says warmly. “Wanna grab a coffee?”

I groan. “Ugh, I wish. I could do with five of them this morning. But it’s my day at the shelter.” I wince in apology. “How about later this week? Come over to my place, maybe?” I feel like we haven’t caught up much these past few months, but that’s life. Always stealing time from you before you even realize it’s happened.

She beams. “Okay, sure, but I’ll hold you to it, Lia. I need girl time,” she says dramatically. I laugh and tell her to text me before I climb in and start the drive to Rayleigh.

The sun is shining particularly bright through my tinted windows, and I find myself longing for winter if only to feel like I haven’t wasted so much time cooped up inside my own head during what was supposed to be my favorite season.

I’m not doing that anymore. It’s time to make me happy again. Somehow.

It’s been four days since I told Leo about my non-existent affair. And nothing has changed. I wonder if he knew I was lying, or if he just thinks that I could never do such a thing. And that stupidly reckless part of me wants to rise to the challenge and bait him some more by actually having one. But I’m scared. And the scariest part isn’t even the thought of being with another man. No, it’s the fear of Leo truly not caring at all.