Page 30 of Thankful
“Lies.” I tug at the blanket. He pulls it back. I pull it again.
“Seriously?” He looks agitated, but that doesn’t bother me in the least.
“Your legs will be hanging over the armrest. You’re too much for this little sofa. Get up. You can get in the bed with me.”
“No, I can’t.”
His stubbornness is maddening. I want to strangle some sense into him.
“Why not?” I ask, completely exasperated that he’s not doing what I want him to do.
He exhales heavily, releasing his frustration into the air. His breath smells like mint. It’s dark in the room. I can hardly see anything around me, but I can see his face clearly. His eyes. They look weary, yet I can see the love. The desire. The hopes and dreams of a second chance with us.
“Brix.”
“Yes?”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll want you too much,” he finally answers.
His words arrest my heart and give me pause. Like old, short videos of our past, instantly I see the picture of what we once were – what we could still be. For a moment, I don’t say a word, and that’s because I can’t. I’m shocked by his admission while at the same time knowing I shouldn’t be. Though separated, we’re still linked. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. We said our vows with God as a witness. That doesn’t go away because we can’t get along.
“Brix..”
The resolve I had when I first set foot in this house weakens. Before I can think rationally, I lower my mouth to his, taking small, teasing kisses. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until right now – the moment our lips touch and marry. He closes his arms around me. I melt like butter under the heat of his caress. I taste his lips more, enjoying this little intimategesture between us. It’s small, but it packs a punch when I know I want my marriage. It feels good, but it hurts at the same time because he didn’t reciprocate that energy when we were together. That’s why when I feel his tongue touch mine, it acts as a shockwave, jolting me back to my senses and pulling me back into the real world – into these very real circumstances. Kissing won’t fix the misery I felt being alone. Sex won’t replace the hurt of not being valued by the man who’s supposed to love and cherish me. I wasn’t being cherished or loved. I was being forgotten.
“I’m sorry,” I say, moving off of him quickly with weak legs and heartbeats ravaging my chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let’s pretend that never happened. You’re right. You should sleep on the sofa. Goodnight, Brix.”
He doesn’t say a word.
I get back into bed and stuff a pillow between my legs to calm the ache, but it doesn’t work. I hide beneath the covers, wishing sleep would find me before I cave and give in to the deep desire I still harbor for my husband.
Just go to sleep, Cyn. Go to sleep.
I try to talk myself into a slumber, but it’s not working. It’s about to be a long night.
chapter ten.
brix
The aroma ofbutter and cinnamon has infiltrated my house. Immediately after I get dressed for the day, I follow the scent to the kitchen where I find Cyn removing pies from the oven while my mother watches and sips on steaming hot coffee. Cyn has on a pair of blue jeans and a purple turtleneck. She always puts her hair up when she’s cooking, but I still have the image of her with it down when she hovered over me last night, trying to convince me to get into bed.
Mother looks over to me and says, “Oh, hi there, son.”
I take my eyes away from Cyn and say, “Good morning.”
Cyn looks over at me, her eyes revealing regret about last night, but she still says, “Good morning, Brix. Would you like some coffee?”
“I would love some coffee, especially since I didn’t sleep well at all last night.”
A slight frown appears on Cyn’s face, but she quickly corrects it. However, I think my mother saw it because she immediately looked at me.
“I’m sorry to hear you didn’t sleep well. What happened?” Mother inquires.
