Frayed Silk(44)

His hooded eyes glaze over from alcohol and lust. He bites his lip, staring up at me. “Can you wait a little while? I wanna finish watching this.” He tugs my head down, whispering, “But I don’t want you to leave.”

I place my palms on his chest and push myself back up. “I can’t. We told Clare we wouldn’t be too late. You’ll come home straight after?” I lower my lashes. “Because … I’ll be waiting.”

He growls quietly, bringing my lips to his. I taste bourbon, but I also taste him, and it’s enough for me to forget all the people around us for a few heartbeats. Until he groans, his tongue entering my mouth. I pull back. “Don’t be too long.” I wink and climb off his lap as he reaches for me lazily with a huge grin on his perfect face.

Fiona comes over to him, passing him a drink. He thanks her and returns his eyes to the game as she walks me outside. I climb into the cab that’s thankfully already there and wave goodbye to her and Lola through the window. Once at home, I thank Clare, give her some money, and watch as she drives off in her beat-up Toyota before I close the front door.

Climbing upstairs, I check on the kids quickly then kick my heels off as soon as I walk into our room. My dress goes next; I lay it over the hamper and walk to the shower in my bra and panties. After I’m done, I pick out Leo’s favorite, a black lace thong and plain black t-shirt. He’s got a thing about seeing my c-cup breasts bounce freely behind a short-cropped tee. I don’t know why, since he rips it off me in five seconds flat anyway. I brush my hair out then brush my teeth before climbing into bed and picking up my book to read while I wait.

I must have fallen asleep because a glance over at the clock says it’s now after four in the morning. When I last looked, it was almost twelve. I pick my book up off my chest and sit up, placing it on the nightstand as I hear the noise again. The one that woke me up.

Thumping. Or falling. Then the bedroom door opens and Leo flinches from the dim light of the lamp that’s still on. “Ugh …” He moans, his shirt is in his hand, and he chucks it to the floor by the hamper. Then he falls over trying to tug his already unzipped pants down his legs. I bite my lip, not wanting to laugh at how wasted he is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this drunk, not even in college. But I’m also annoyed. He promised he’d be home hours ago and didn’t even call or text to tell me otherwise.

“Leo,” I whisper-hiss when he rolls over on the floor, kicking his pants off and using the wall to help himself get up. I don’t think he even heard me. Hell, I’d be surprised if he knew who I am or where he was from the way he’s acting. He uses the wall to assist with his walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I lay back down and roll over to face the en suite, my eyes slowly drifting closed. Then I hear him vomiting. It doesn’t stop for what feels like forever, so I move to get up and check on him but then the toilet flushes and I hear the shower turn on. Thinking that he’s probably a little more sober now, I lie back down and let my eyes close once again.





Flushing the toilet, I stand on shaky legs and make my way over to the sink to rinse my mouth out then brush my teeth. I feel like I’ve entered some weird twilight zone. My stomach churns again as Dylan’s words play on repeat in my head.

She raped your husband …

My mind refuses to process them. Struggles to wrap itself around the fact that she’d do such a thing. I take a deep breath, rinsing my toothbrush and putting it back in the holder before walking downstairs to finish prepping tonight’s dinner. I pick up the kids from school half an hour later, thankful that Lola isn’t here. I’m not sure I can handle talking yet. And I need to keep this mask on my emotions until the kids leave tonight with my mom and Taylor. They come running out as soon as the bell rings, excited to see their grandmothers and climbing straight in the car while I put their bags in the back. I wave to Trey as he drives out of the parking lot with Sophie making faces out the back window.

“How was your day?” I ask when we finally escape the line of cars all trying to leave at once.

“Amazing,” Greta sings. “I got a ten out of ten on my spelling test.”

“Well done, poppet. That’s so good.”

“Rupert bought in this cool robot for show and tell. It speaks three different languages,” Charlie says with clear awe.

“Oh? That sounds interesting,” I mutter as I flick the turn signal on and turn onto our street.

“Yeah, can I get one?” he asks.

“Um, maybe for your birthday.” Though I am glad he’s interested in toys again. Even if it is a freaking robot.

“Yes! It’s only one month away.” He punches the air in excitement.

One month? Oh damn, it’s almost October. Time sure flies when your life is in shambles.

I pull into the garage, grabbing the kids’ bags as they race inside. I close the car doors and walk in behind them. “Your bags are packed, so if there’s anything you want to take, make sure you grab it. Just not too many things!” I call out when I hear them race each other up the stairs. I unpack their stuff and put their schoolbags away in the laundry room. Once they’re in front of the TV with afternoon snacks, I quickly run the vacuum through then head upstairs to take a shower. Just because I feel like falling apart doesn’t mean I can look that way. My mom is already likely to see beneath the tower of lies we’ve constructed since she last saw us.