Frayed Silk(34)

Me: I’m so sorry.



He replies right away.



Jared: You okay?



Me: Fine. I’ll talk to you soon.



I exit the message, take my phone upstairs to charge it, and take a quick shower before the kids get home. Once under the hot water, I finally let it out. The sorrow, the fear, and the absolute horror of having my husband, the love of my life, walk in on me with another man.

After drying off and getting dressed in some pajama pants and a t-shirt, I come downstairs to the sound of the kids arguing.

“Hey.” I walk into the living room to find them playing tug-o-war with the remote. I walk over and gently remove their hands from it. “What’s going on?”

“I want the TV. Charlie always gets it when we get home from school.” Greta pouts.

Sighing, I take the remote with me as I leave the room. “Well, no one is watching anything until their homework is done, so come on, let’s do it.”

They both groan but follow me into the kitchen and get started while I unpack their bags then put their lunch boxes in the dishwasher.

“Where’s your father?” I ask, trying to act indifferent when inside, I feel like all my vital organs are twisting and knotting together.

“He’s gone back out,” Charlie says, chewing on the end of his pencil for a second, then pokes his tongue into his top lip as his eyes narrow intently at his sheet of math homework.

“Oh? Did he say where he was going?” I grab a knife and start cutting up some apples and oranges for them at the island.

Charlie shrugs. “Can’t remember.” He then scribbles something down on his paper while Greta watches me.

“He said he’s going to see his friend Jim.”

I pause mid cut. “Jim?” I frown over at her.

She holds her hands out and shrugs. “I dunno. I’m just the messenger.”

She goes back to doing her homework, and I finish chopping the fruit. Then it clicks. His favorite bourbon—Jim Beam. He’s gone to get drunk? Well, he has enough reason to. But what the hell? He doesn’t even want to try to talk to me? Not that we’d get much of that done with the kids awake. It’s not exactly the kind of fight we can have within earshot of them. But I still thought he’d want to, I don’t know, do something. Why go to all that effort of finding me and hauling me out of there buck ass naked only to ignore me all over again?

I chuck the fruit into a bowl and put it between them. I try to distract myself, and we discuss their day while I clean up the counter and the knife before putting it away.

An hour later, Trey is knocking on the front door with the keys to my car and an awkward smile on his face. I glance outside to see my car in the drive, and Lola waving at me from hers. She then motions with her hand for me to call her.

“Uh, thanks,” I mutter, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Hey, I’m not judging. He didn’t tell me what was going on. But he sounded pretty, um … upset.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m supposed to meet him at the bar. Don’t worry. I’ll get him home safe.”

“Thank you, Trey. I’m sorry you two got dragged into this.”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, honestly. Shit happens.”

With a wave, he runs off through the rain to climb into Lola’s blue Mazda.

I close the door and stare down at my keys.

Shit happens indeed.

My life has officially become one big clusterfuck.

And I’m one of the main reasons why.





I wake to the sound of the sink running in the bathroom. It keeps going, and I start to get worried that maybe I accidentally left it on when the en suite door flies open, and Leo stumbles over to the bed. Ripping his white dress shirt over his head, he tosses it to the hamper then discards his pants before sitting down on his side. His head falls into his hands, his palms rubbing over his face and through his hair.

I turn over, staring at the smooth ridges of his back as the moon shines in on the shadows of our bedroom through the cracks in the curtains.

“Where’ve you been?” I ask quietly.

I don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he laughs darkly. “You have the audacity to ask me where I’ve been?”

The venom in his voice stings and causes my eyes to glaze over with tears, but I keep trying. “We need to talk … I just want—”

“How many times?” He cuts me off.

“What?” I whisper, but I think I know what he’s talking about.

“I said how many times. How many times did you …” He blows out a loud breath. “Did you fuck him?”

I sit up. “I didn’t … we didn’t.”

He spins around, his blue eyes shooting more venom at me. “Don’t lie to me, Lia. I fucking saw you.”

“I didn’t.” I shake my head frantically. “That was the first time we were going to. We hadn’t before then, but we’ve done …” Like a coward, I can’t even bring myself to say it. To own up to what I have done.

He laughs, the sound breaking off abruptly into a drawn-out groan as he curses and stands. “You know … I thought you were joking when you said you were having an affair. I never thought you’d actually go and do it,” he says roughly.