Page 11 of Keeping Skylar
Skylar
Just like that, the weekend is over.
A wave of anxiety hits me as I step through the front door, my small luggage trailing behind me. Kaden is currently at work, and I know he won’t be back until eight tonight. That gives me some time to myself without his insufferable presence lingering around.
Kirstin and I spent the last day of the weekend shopping at the farmer’s market, and catching a movie at the cinema. It was a refreshing escape from reality; a distraction I desperately needed. Even if just for a fleeting moment, I felt a sense of peace.
But as they say, all good things must come to an end. And now here I am, back at the one place that fills me with dread—pretending that my life and marriage aren’t on the verge of being blown to smithereens.
After leaving Kirstin’s apartment this morning, I was sitting in my car in her basement garage when a panic attack hit me out of nowhere. My hands clutched the steering wheel tightly as I fought to steady my breathing, trying to calm the hammering in my chest.
Kirstin, standing only a few feet away, immediately noticed I hadn’t moved. As if sensing my struggle, she rushed over, ripped the door open, and gently helped me out of the car. We stood embraced in each other’s arms until I was calm and ready to leave.
Before I got into my car, Kirstin reached into the pocket of her denim jacket and handed me a spare key to her apartment, silently offering me a refuge whenever I needed it. That simple gesture was all the reassurance I needed to drive safely back home.
I’ll play the dutiful wife. I’ll carry on like nothing’s wrong—as if my lying, cheating husband isn’t sneaking around with my best friend. I’ll let him enjoy his side piece for now while I wait for the perfect moment to leave his sorry arse for good.
I’m just about to put the finishing touches on dinner when I hear the front door slam shut. Minutes later, Kaden’s heavy footsteps echo through the house as he strides into the kitchen and heads straight for the fridge.
Forcing myself to face him, I muster a weak smile. The effort of pretending to be the supportive, attentive wife is beginning to wear me down. It’s downright exhausting.
He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and walks the short distance to where I’m standing. I turn my back to him to avoid his gaze and his need to touch me, pretending to stir the curry in the saucepan even though it’s long since done.
Unfortunately, my feeble attempt to avoid his touch fails when I suddenly feel his solid arms wrap around my waist and his warm lips on my neck. Heat and goosebumps ripple across my skin at the sensation of his touch.God dammit!
“That smells so good. What are you making?” he whispers into my ear.
“Thai green curry.”
“Yum. What’s the occasion?”
“No real occasion. I just felt like cooking something nice, that’s all,” I reply, carefully masking the disgust in my voice.
A minute later, Kaden pulls away and heads to the cupboard to grab a set of plates, eating utensils and wine glasses for the two of us, and begins to set the dining table. He returns to the kitchen shortly after, to retrieve a bottle of Sauvignon Blancfrom our collection in the pantry. He brings it back to the table, filling our wine glasses to the brim.
“Those girl trips are doing wonders for you. I should let you go on them more often.” He smirks as he takes a sip of wine from his glass.
Of course, he would say that. He has someone to occupy his time with now that he has Lucia at his beck and call. Wouldn’t he just love that.Bastard!
Kaden sits at the head of the table while he waits as I serve the curry and rice onto our plates. Dumping the saucepan in the sink, I make my way over to the table, taking my seat adjacent to him on his right.
For the next several minutes, silence envelops us as we eat our meal in relative peace. I try not to shift awkwardly in my seat from the discomfort of having Kaden sit so close to me. I only relax when he breaks the silence first.
“This is really good, babe,” he praises as he pops another piece of chicken in his mouth.
“Thanks. How was your weekend?” I ask.
He peers down at his food, likely contemplating the lie he’s about to spew. “It was great actually. Had a barbeque with Jason and Jake on Saturday, then we went up to the mountains on Sunday for a hike,” he explains while maintaining a neutral expression on his face.
I don’t believe a word he’s saying. All I hear in that nonsense are lies. What I really gathered from his whole speech is that, yes, he was busy on Sunday, but not hiking up a mountain—hewas hiking up Lucia’s skirt before fucking her brains out. Two-timing son of a bitch!
“That would’ve been fun for little Jake. I’m sure he would’ve loved that.” I play along.
Kaden nods and takes another sip of his wine. “He had a great time indeed. We all did. What about you? How did your trip with Kirstin go?”
“It was great actually. We saw some incredible art, went out to eat and drink, sang karaoke, watched movies ...”Planned how I’m going to leave you.“That was pretty much it.”
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. You both deserve a relaxing getaway.”
