Page 30 of Mine

“I guess you’re right.” I sit up in my chair, taking my empty coffee with me. “I think I’m going to go lay down. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Logan stops, resting one hand on his waist, the other still holding the hammer. Dropping the hammer, he crosses the yard and stops in front of me. His scent invades my space, drawing me in. He smells like a delicious combination of sweat, wood, and orange Tic Tacs.

His chest rises and falls, heavy breaths escaping between his lips. “I know I asked about Abby, but areweokay?”

I search his eyes. I want to know we’re okay. But as I stare into the eyes of the man I love, I can’t help but feel the twisting ache in my chest, reminding me of the secrets I’m keeping from him.

I lean forward and place a kiss on his lips. His lips are warm and taste sweet. He wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. He lifts his hand, running his fingers through my hair. I pull back slightly, pressing my forehead to his. “We’re okay,” I whisper.

It’s the only two words I feel are true. We’re okay and that was good for now. I could figure out the rest later.

I leave Logan out in the back yard and crawl under the sheets of my bed, letting sleep overtake me. My body is heavy, pressing into the mattress. Within seconds I fall asleep.

My eyes crack open to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom in our room. I pick up my phone and look at the time. I’d slept for two hours. Despite, how quick my nap was, my body felt lighter and my eyes more open. The pressure that was once buried behind them had dissolved.

There’s a vibration coming from beside me on Logan’s side of the bed. It happens two more times by the time I find the source of where it’s coming from. I push aside the blanket, finding Logan’s phone buried underneath it. A text message box pops up on the top of the screen.

Natalie: Just pulled into the market. See you in a few!

My throat swells as Natalie’s text stares me right in the face. There’s an ache swelling inside me, threatening to break me into pieces. I feel like my own trust in my husband has betrayed me. There was something I was missing. A connection I hadn’t quite yet made.

The water stops and I drop Logan’s phone back onto the bed. Within seconds he’s out of the bathroom and riffling through his dresser. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, displaying his sculpted abs. Water drops are dotted across his skin, his hair is soaked, trails of water running down his back. The beard he had earlier in the day is already gone, trimmed down to a short stubble lining his jaw.

I scoot back on the bed, resting against the headboard and rub the sleep from my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek, not knowing how I’m going to be able to talk to Logan right now after reading the text I’d just read from Natalie.

“Oh, good, you’re up,” he says, still digging through his drawer.

“I really needed that nap.” I yawn, hoping it will give me a little more time to set my emotions aside long enough to speak to Logan.

“I got the basic frame set up for the shed.” His words sound rehearsed, flat and unfeeling. Was his motivation to rebuild the shed born out of guilt? Guilt for whatever is going on with Natalie.

After drying off, he steps into a clean set of boxer briefs followed by a pair of dark blue jeans.

“Where are you going?” I ask him. I lift my leg and rest my elbow on my knee, cradling my head in my hand, watching him as he dresses. He grabs a plain T-shirt and slides it on.

“Oh, uh, Max wanted me to run down to the market and place an order for a shipment of fish.” He sits on the edge of the bed and quickly slides his feet into his boots. He bends over and begins tying them.

“Is anyone going with you? I can give you some company and pick up a few things for the house,” I offer, thinking back to Natalie’s text.

I’m testing him, hoping he'll tell me the truth that he’s meeting Natalie there. I study the muscles of his back as they stretch under the fabric of his black T-shirt.

He glances over his shoulder then turns back to finish tying off his boots. “No, that’s okay. It’ll be easier if it’s just me. It has to be a quick trip anyway since I have to head straight to the restaurant after. I won’t have any time to stop.” He stands then darts his eyes around the room before they settle on the bed. He picks up his phone and looks at the screen. His mouth presses into a thin line before he slides it into his back pocket.

“Sure.” I swallow. “that makes sense.” I sit up, moving the blanket aside and walk straight to the bathroom. For no other reason than to hide my face from Logan. My chin quivers. Our marriage is a constant tipping of the scales. One day we’re balanced, the next, tipped to one side, the weight of our demons threatening to topple us over.

His heavy footsteps grow closer to the bathroom. Quickly, I turn on the shower and remove the long T-shirt and underwear I was wearing. The water is still warm from Logan’s shower, so I step inside immediately and close the glass door behind me.

Through the faded glass, I can see Logan standing in the doorway of the bathroom, resting his body against the doorframe. “I have to head out now.”

“Okay.” The water washes over my body and I stand underneath the stream, letting the water blend with the tears I already know are coming. Moving closer to the stream, I place my hands over my face, hoping Logan doesn’t notice my quivering voice.

He raps his knuckles against the wood frame. I’m silently praying he doesn’t come into the shower with me. I’m not sure I could handle facing him right now. My stomach twists with a sickness unlike any other I’ve felt. I love Logan and the thought of him having an affair would be devastating, a hurt I‘m not sure I could return from. “Well, I’ll be home late since I’m closing.”

I nod even though I know he can’t see me. I keep my hands pressed against my face, scrubbing them up and down my cheeks, hoping it’ll keep my tears at bay. “I know.”

“I’ll uh, text you when I get to work.”

I want to ask him why bother. I want to tell him not to worry about it since I know he’ll be with Natalie. Instead, the words sit on my tongue, their bitter taste lingering in my mouth.

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