Addictive Collision Page 3
“Thanks. We’re going out to dinner tonight. I’m taking him to this new Japanese restaurant. He’s never had Japanese food so I can’t wait for him to try it.”
“Sounds like you guys are getting along fantastic.”
“Yeah. I can’t believe he ever gave me a chance after the way I treated him.”
“You were awful!”
“I know. I feel so bad. I guess I have a lot of making up to do.”
I smiled. “Yes you do.”
Chapter 3
I took a shower, slipped into a silk nightgown, then crawled into bed. I wrapped my arm around Tom, only for it to be roughly flung off of him like he was shooing away a pesky housefly.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“I just want to hold you, baby.”
“Not tonight.”
“Or any night,” I retorted, then started to sob uncontrollably. A tidal wave of emotions washed over me. I was so darn lonely and so darn miserable.
“Morgan, what’s wrong?” he finally asked, as if he just suddenly noticed my sniffling.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” I cried.
“Sign up for what?”
“Loneliness 101 at Belmont University, Professor.”
He rolled over and pressed his lips into a grim line. “It breaks my heart that you’re hurting, but—”
“But nothing, Tom! If it breaks your heart, why do you keep ignoring me? I’m hurting because of you. I’m your wife, and you’re supposed to love me, physically and otherwise.”
He didn’t answer and just peered at me in the dark.
“Well? Do you love me or not?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
I heaved a sigh. “Keep telling yourself that lie, and you might eventually believe it, but I won’t. Tom, I need to know if you want me or if you want out of this marriage. I am tired of feeling like this.”
“Out of the marriage?” he said, as if it was a ridiculous assumption. “No. I take my wedding vows very seriously.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure him out. He didn’t want to end the marriage, but he wanted nothing to do with me. For as smart as he was, he was a genuine fool who made no sense. “We’re best friends, and we can usually talk about anything, but you’ve become so physically distant, and you won’t even look at me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” he stammered.
“You promised to love me forever.” I wept. “You vowed to love, honor, and cherish me until the end of time, for better or worse.”
He put the pillow over his head, as if to drown me out. “And I’m honoring those vows. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
I touched his back. “Only sort of. I feel like I’m losing you.”
He peeked out from under the pillow. “You’re not. Now go to bed. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
Harvey, our golden retriever, jumped up next to him, and Tom petted his head. The dog snuggled next to him, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous that the furry beast got far more attention from my husband than I did.
I sat up and said, from the edge of the bed, “Regardless of what you say, I don’t feel like you love me anymore. You’d rather cuddle with that stupid dog than with me, and there’s something seriously wrong with that. We’re broken. We’re slowly dying, baby.”
Again, he had no answer for me.
I wiped my eyes with a tissue. “Are we that far gone?”
This time, he actually pushed the covers off, turned on his bedside lamp, and sat up next to me in some lame attempt to try to make me feel better. “We’re fine, Morgan, so please quit being so...dramatic,” he said.
I gazed at him. “Why aren’t you attracted to me anymore? Tell me what to do to fix it. I’ve been going to the gym twice a week, and I’ve lost ten pounds. I’ve bought sexy lingerie, and I always make sure to come to bed with my hair and makeup in place. I’ve tried everything. Is there another woman in your life or something?”
“What!? I’d never cheat with on you with another woman,” he said. “That’s not who I am, Morgan. You should know that.”
I wiped my eyes. “If you’re not attracted to me, why do you stay?”
“Because I love you, and I love our kids. I couldn’t bear to live without you.”
“I think what you love is the idea of marriage,” I said. “You want the wife, kids, house, family pet, cars, and the prestigious job—the fucking white picket fence—but I honestly don’t think you want the responsibility that goes along with any of it. You want the perfect picture, but you don’t want to put any of the work into helping me paint it.”
He touched my hand. “Morgan, I love you and the kids. You know you’re my life.”
“Remember when we were sixteen, and you were standing on my porch after the homecoming dance. You kissed me and looked into my eyes and told me you’d love me forever. You promised that you’d always do whatever you need to do to make me happy.”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said, smiling. “Those were good times.”
“My heart melted when you said that,” I said between sobs, “and I believed you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But now I’m not so sure anymore. I have doubts, and I’m scared about not having you in my life, because I trusted you and have built my world around you. I gave up college so I could marry you and raise our family, so we could be together. I loved you that much. My gosh, Tom, you’re my life. But you promised me I’d be happy, and I’m not.”
“So I’ll try harder,” he said, patting my hand.
“Promises don’t mean anything without action. You’ve taught me that. Why won’t you hold me in your arms and wipe my tears away? Why won’t you put my doubts to rest? Why won’t you look deeply into my eyes, gently cup my face, and really, meaningfully declare your love to me? You just lie there, like you’re afraid I might touch you. Why won’t you fight for our love? It seems like you don’t care.”
He climbed back into bed and shut off the light. “You read too many of those romance books, watch too many movies. Plus, you’re getting too dramatic for my taste. Goodnight, Morgan,” he said, then grew rudely silent as he rolled over with his back to me.
I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t willing to fight for our marriage. He said he still loved me, but it certainly seemed like he didn’t give a shit one way or the other. I grabbed a tissue and cried myself to sleep, and my so-called loving husband never even bothered to try and comfort me.
Chapter 4
Tom wanted to go away for the weekend, hoping to cheer me up with a little much-needed family time. I had to give him credit for trying. Truly, in spite of our problems, I knew how much he loved us. I just needed to find some way to put the spark back into our marriage.
We walked into our vacation suite, and I was blown away. My husband really surprised me with luxurious accommodations: a huge living room, dinette, and kitchen.
“There are two bedrooms, Mommy!” my daughter Emma sang.
“This is the biggest place we’ve ever stayed in,” said Anna.
“Yay! We’re going to have so much fun. Let’s go to the pool,” chimed Emma.
“Wait. Mom, my beach ball is deflating. Something poked it.”
“Maybe it would be good if we each bunked with one of the girls,” Tom said over my shoulder as I gazed into the master bedroom, the one furnished with a king-sized bed. “I mean, this is a strange place and all, so...”
My heart deflated at the same speed as that oversized beach ball. I pasted on a fake smile, but it all suddenly hit me over the head like a ton of bricks—my a-ha moment and a real wakeup call. My husband didn’t even want to share that huge, lush bed with me, even on a vacation. I had no expectations of anything getting hot and heavy, since they hadn’t even been warm for so long, but for him to refuse to even sleep in the same bed really hurt. I bit my lip hard as tears welled up in my eyes. I’d never felt more lonely, isolated, and rejected.
I was on vacation wi
th my two beautiful children and my husband, yet I’d never felt so alone. I wondered how many more such trips I’d have to endure, how many more fake smiles I’d have to plaster on. I couldn’t bear our sexual dysfunction any longer. My husband had absolutely no interest in me, and I knew it was time for us to go our separate ways. If he had been in an accident or gone through an illness that had left him impotent or something, I would have understood, but he was actually choosing not to touch me, forcing me into unwanted celibacy, and I certainly didn’t remember joining a coven.
I never would have fathomed that our last time being intimate together was actually going to be the last time. I ached to be desired and wanted, to be held by the only man I’d ever loved. I would have done anything to be beautiful in his eyes again. I wanted to be touched, looked at, and adored. I needed his touch the way the sky needed the sun. I longed for him desperately, still dreamt and fantasized about our bodies dancing in perfect rhythm. The trouble was, those dreams never came true.
After unpacking, I walked to the balcony and saw a couple walking hand in hand. What’s it like to be so in love? I thought, green with envy. It’d been so long since I’d felt that way, and all my hopes that marriage would be the remedy for loneliness had turned out to be grand illusions. Lonely and married. Gee, should those two words even go together in one sentence? Is happily-ever-after a fairytale? How did a love so magical and amazing just wither away and die?
While the kids swam nearby, Tom and I sat at a table. We’d been riding water slides with them for hours and needed a break.
“Did you see Anna fly into the water?” he said. “It was priceless. She’s such a little mermaid.”
I sipped my drink. “We’ve got lots of pics.”
He went on to talk about Emma, the weather, his job, his mother, and whatever else came to mind. That was what our nuptials had boiled down to: small talk. As I sat there listening to him, our wedding day flashed in my head. That day, he had practically glowed with happiness, and it was clear then that the man wanted to be with me for the rest of my life. I would never forget walking down the aisle and seeing that broad smile on his face.
What happened to us? We used to be madly in love. How can two people who were once so deeply in love now live a sexless, passionless existence? No one should be forced to go through life with no affection or love. Beyond the physical, I hated the fact that my feelings seemed to mean nothing to him. He said he didn’t like to see me hurting, yet he did nothing to stop my pain. Resentment washed over me like a tidal wave. I was at the end of my rope, and I didn’t know how long I could continue to hang on.
“Morgan?” he said cutting into my thoughts.
“Uh...yeah? What’s up?”
“You’re a million miles away.”
“Sorry. Got a lot on my mind, I guess.”
He reached down and handed me a bag. “I got you something.”
My jaw dropped. “For me?”
Tom had stopped buying me gifts a long time ago, so I was surprised. I also felt a bit guilty, as I hadn’t bought anything for him. Then again, the only thing I could imagine handing to him was a pile of divorce papers.
I tentatively opened the bag, expecting some little bauble or trinket or maybe some chocolates. Instead, I found a bottle of hair gel. “Uh...is this your way of telling me I’m having a bad hair day, honey?” I asked, somewhat insulted.
“No, not at all. I got a great bargain on it though.”
“Oh. Well...thanks,” I said. “It’s lovely.”
“You’re welcome.”
The thoughtless gift was a clue as to just how clueless my husband was. I would have much rather received a hug or some hand-holding, and those wouldn’t have cost him a cent. No one had held my hand in years, and I’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to be touched. I really missed being in an intimate relationship, and looking down at that bottle of clearance hair gel, I knew I was never going to have that with Tom again.
Chapter 5
I dropped the kids off at school, then drove to the university. After I hopped out of the minivan, I smoothed my stylish, blue and white, very spring-like dress, then glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure my messy bun wasn’t too messy.
I ran into Lori on campus while I was walking to another building to drop off some files.
“Well? How was your trip? Did you get lucky?” she said.
“Nope. He just cuddled with Harvey all night. He didn’t even sleep in the same room as me.”
“What!? That’s seriously fucked up! That dog gets more affection than you.”
I huffed. “I know.”
Lori stopped to grin at a hot guy in track shorts. When she was done flirting with him, she turned back to me. “I bet he wouldn’t have cuddled up with a dog.”
“Yeah, I know. My love life is utterly depressing.”
“We’ll talk more later,” she said, glancing down at her watch. “I’m late for class.”
Just as I returned to my desk, my boss waved to me.
“Hello, Mr. Jackson,” I said.
He lifted one of his bushy eyebrows. “Did you get the Mahara files done?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He smiled in approval. “Great! You’re the best, Morgan. I can always count on you.”
“Thank you.”
As he started to walk off, he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, you asked for the seventeenth off, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re good to go,” he said with a smile.
I beamed. “Thank you, sir.” As soon as he was out of sight, I threw my arms up in the air and did a little happy dance. “Yes!” In spite of our problems at home, I was thrilled to have the time off, as I was looking forward to visiting Tom’s sister with him and the kids. My little Emma was dying to go to Sea World.
My colleague chuckled, then motioned for me to stop flailing around like one of those inflatable waving-arm men on a used car lot. “It’s him,” she murmured, “your knight in postal armor.”
I wished she wouldn’t have said it out loud, and I bit my lip as I slowly turned around. I smiled nervously when I found his piercing eyes fixed on mine. He was smiling, even though he’d seen my silly dance, and his grin melted my heart and brought a blush to my cheeks. Damage control, I thought. Now I have to explain the shining knight remark. “Uh, I-I didn’t... Sorry. I didn’t know you were standing behind me,” I stuttered.
He smirked. “Well, it’s great that someone’s excited to see me, after all the grumpy people I’ve dealt with this morning.”
“Linda’s right though. You were my knight in shining armor the other day, after I took that swan dive in the rain. Thanks again for that.”
I studied his handsome, rugged features. I was jealous of his brown uniform, stretched over his muscled chest like it was glued there. No other man had ever made my heart pound that way. I wasn’t sure if I was in love, but I was certainly in lust. I couldn’t help it. The man was sexy as hell and beautiful, with black, wavy hair, broad shoulders, a perfectly chiseled face, and bright blue eyes any girl would get lost in.
“How’s the ankle?” he asked, snapping me out of my lusty trance.
“Uh...good.”
He shot me that white, gleaming, movie star smile. “Great.”
My gaze shot down his body, and I noticed his fly. I smirked, pointing down. “Um, your garage door is open.”
“Oh! Sorry.” He quickly zipped up.
“It’s okay. I didn’t see your Cadillac or anything.”
He laughed, then held up a brown, medium-sized box. “Can you sign for this?”
“Sure. I’d love to take your package,” I said, then immediately smacked my forehead in embarrassment. I was Mr. Jackson’s favorite, yet I couldn’t have been more unprofessional. Something about that mailman made me lose my edge.
Linda nudged me and laughed. “Please don’t file any sexual harassment charges against my friend here,” she said.
His cheeks re
ddened. “As long as you don’t tell people about my garage door being open, that won’t be a problem.”
We all chuckled.
I signed for the package, and the dreamboat left with a smile on his face.
As soon as he was out of earshot, I turned to Linda. “Gosh, I made the biggest idiot out of myself.”
Linda laughed. “I can’t believe you told him his garage door was open.”
“Why? I didn’t want people to see him like that all day long.”
“How selfish of you, depriving all those poor women of that.”
I smiled. “I know. He’s like...a Greek god. Can you imagine him without his shirt on? He’s got muscles popping out all over the place.”
“Says the married mother of two,” she reminded me.
“I know, but those eyes...”
“You’ve already got a man,” Linda said, patting me on the shoulder. “I guess the postman is all mine when he comes back next time...and I bet that postman can always ring more than twice.”
We both laughed.
“As for my man,” I said with a sigh, “Tom and I can’t seem to agree on the direction we want our lives to go.”
“So you see a hot delivery guy and want to dump your other half?” she asked. “I didn’t know you two were having problems.”
I realized once again just how deceiving appearances could be. My picture-perfect marriage was a sham, and I felt guilty about living a lie and not coming clean, but the truth cut too deep. I stared at the door. “You know what?”
“What?” my colleague asked.
“Maybe I’m in the wrong relationship.”
“You’re just horny.”
“What?” I asked.
“When was the last time Tom fucked you really good?”
It had been years, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“See?” Linda said, before I could answer. “You can’t even remember. I knew it.”
“Did you see his eyes though? I could get lost in that blue ocean.”
“Yeah, but a guy that hot has to have a girlfriend—or maybe even a boyfriend. I figure he’s gotta be gay. No one that gorgeous is ever straight.”