Bryce

Chapter 1

“Any auditions coming up?”

Samantha hesitated before answering. Tamika Freemon, who only answered to the name Meka, was the closest Samantha had to a friend. Even though they both enjoyed working at The Book Nook, Meka was always encouraging Samantha to keep trying.

“There’s an open call Friday afternoon, but I don’t think I’ll make it,” she answered finally.

Meka looked up from the computer. “Why not? You can’t get the part if you don’t try.”

“I know. Brandon has some firefighter’s union benefit dinner that night and there’s no way I can do both,” she explained as she arranged some books on the shelf.

“Talk to him. Open calls only happen but so often. If he had something important to do on a night you had plans, you know what he would do.”

That was something for Samantha to think abut. She had no doubt Brandon would choose what was important to him over any plans she made. It would undoubtedly cause an argument, but Meka was right. She had to at least try. Without having an agent, she couldn’t afford to miss any opportunities.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him when I get home. Or maybe tomorrow morning. Tomorrow during dinner at the latest…”

Meka snorted. “Keep going and you’ll drag it out until the night of. I don’t know him well, but I’m sure it won’t go over if you just don’t show up. Seriously, though. He won’t take your dreams seriously if you don’t.”

She smiled to herself as she continued to stock shelves. Meka was the only person to encourage her, no matter what. No obstacle was too great as far as Meka was concerned. Samantha wished she didn’t have such an aversion to conflict. She hated to argue. Hated when Brandon was upset with her. It was much easier to just go with the flow.

“You’re right. I’ll talk to him when I get home, which means we need to get a move on if that’s going to be any time soon.”

She redirected her focus to stocking the shelves and organizing the table of featured local authors. Figuring out a way to talk her husband into letting her go to the audition was something that could wait for her walk home. The bookstore was her happy place, and she tried not to bring any negativity into that safe space.

Before long she was standing by the door waiting for Meka to lock up behind them. They walked home in opposite directions, but always stayed together until the building had been secured and they were ready to leave. Samantha preferred to walk home instead of taking the subway when the weather was nice. Walking home gave her a few moments that were just for her. No one expected anything of her. No customers were waiting for her help. She didn’t have to plan dinner or make sure the laundry had been put away. It was the time for her thoughts.

The darkness didn’t bother her. Not every part of Brooklyn was as dangerous as the movies liked to portray. She’d been living in her neighborhood since she turned eighteen and set off on her own. The only difference was her modest studio apartment had been upgraded to the two-bedroom walk-up she shared with her husband.

“You’re late, Sam.” Her husband’s voice broke the silence as soon as she opened the door.

She glanced at her watch. “Sorry. We had so many new books to shelf, it took forever. Did you eat? I made up some chili and put it on low in the crock pot before I left.”

“I made a sandwich,” Brandon responded.

Samantha pushed aside the sinking feeling as she locked the door and made her way over to her husband. He still wore his white t-shirt and department-issued pants which told her he probably hadn’t been home long. It was obvious he was in a mood, so she didn’t push the subject. Walking through the living room and into the kitchen, she fixed herself a bowl of chili before putting the rest away.

After putting her long braids into a bun on top of her head, she switched the crockpot off and then filled a small bowl with chili.

“So how was your day?” she asked from her seat at the table.

“Fine,” he answered without looking at her.

“We were pretty busy this afternoon,” she mentioned between mouthfuls of food. “With the steady stream of customers, we weren’t really able to stock the new arrivals until after closing. Made for a quick day though.”

“Nice,” Brandon responded before pointing the remote at the TV and increasing the volume.

Samantha took that as her cue to shut up. She needed to tread lightly and stay on his good side if she had any hope of him agreeing to let her go to the audition instead of the benefit with him. The dark circles below his gray eyes stood out in the dim light that flickered around the room.

The busy shifts were probably beginning to wear on him. FDNY typically had a high call volume in general, but his firehouse wasn’t as busy as a lot of the other ones. He had recently been getting home exhausted after unusually busy shifts, and apparently, it had not calmed down.

After finishing her dinner in silence, she went back to the kitchen to clean up. Crumbs littered the countertop and the dirty plate he’d used for his sandwich sat in the sink instead of the dishwasher. She emerged from the kitchen once again after cleaning off the counter and loading the dishwasher. One less thing for him to get upset about was one less thing for her to worry about.

She gave his shoulder a quick pat as she walked by. “I’m heading to bed. Don’t stay up too late, you look like you need some sleep too.”

She yelped in surprise when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “Pretty sure I’m old enough to stay up as late as I want.”

Caught off guard, she stared at him until he pulled her closer and placed a quick kiss on her mouth.

“Goodnight,” he whispered before releasing her and returning his attention to the TV.

Shaken, Samantha made a quick retreat to her bedroom. She stepped out of her long flowing skirt and pulled her sweater up over her head. After slipping into a long sleep shirt, she climbed into bed. The best way to deal with Brandon when he was in that type of mood was to avoid him.

Fighting her sleep, she attempted to run through different ways to approach the topic of the audition. After six years of marriage, she knew Brandon wanted her on his arm for events for his image and not because he wanted to spend time with her. She pulled her sleep bonnet over her hair before rolling over. Hopefully, something would come to her while she slept, otherwise she would have to tell him she was going to the audition and face whatever reaction he threw at her.

The smell of bacon woke her up. She’d slept through Brandon joining her in the bed and unfortunately slept without coming up with a plan. Cooking was a sign that he was in a better mood. Even if he wasn’t, she had to talk to him. Meka was right. Brandon would never take her dream seriously if she didn’t.

“Good morning,” she sang as she walked to the coffee pot.

“Hey beautiful,” he replied with a smile.

Samantha studied him as she poured her coffee. He was dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He was always most attractive when he was relaxed and not trying to impress anyone. The way he was when she first met him.

“You’re in a good mood,” she commented over the rim of her coffee cup.

His smile was contrite. “I’m sorry I was being a dick last night. I’ve just been so tired...”

“I understand.”

“I cooked breakfast. Sit down and eat. I haven’t seen you much this week,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.

She tried not to allow relief to overwhelm her. Skipping the benefit to go to an audition would be tricky no matter how good of a mood he was in. She would bring it up after breakfast. He joined her at the table with a large bowl filled with scrambled eggs and a serving plate of bacon and sausage with four pieces of buttered toast on one side.

“This looks delicious,” she said as she helped herself to a little bit of everything. “Thank you.”

“After I didn’t bother to eat the chili you went through the trouble of making, it’s the least I could do.”

Samantha smiled in acknowledgment as she added the last items to her plate. Looking up, she found him watching her closely. She struggled not to flinch when he reached for her hand across the table.

“Have anything planned for this week?” he asked casually.

Her fork fell from her hand before she could catch it. No longer having a choice, she would have to bring up the dreaded subject. She felt ridiculous for being so nervous.

“Actually, I have an audition Friday.”

“Friday is the benefit,” he reminded her.

“Yes. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it. It depends on how long the audition takes.”

He was silent, continuing to eat his breakfast without reacting to what she said. After several long moments, he met her gaze. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I just want to enjoy my breakfast.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, worried about what was to come.

They spent the rest of their breakfast in uncomfortable silence. Samantha tried to think of an angle that would smooth over her plan to miss the benefit. It would have been so much easier if he just supported her endeavors. It wasn’t his fault she had spent the beginning of their relationship completely comfortable with just going with the flow. She had made his goals her goals, so it was no wonder he wasn’t accustomed to putting her goals first.

“You’re looking cute this morning,” he said after a beat.

Surprised, Samantha looked up at him. She was still in her sleep shirt from the night before. The only thing she had done before leaving the bedroom was take off her bonnet. Even through her uncertainty, she felt herself melt from the compliment. Maybe all wasn’t lost. She would happily put up with that version of Brandon. The weariness and uncertainty began to fade into the background.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stood and cleared their plates. Samantha was left sitting at the table trying not to show her surprise. The last time she sat down to a meal at home that she hadn’t had to prepare or clean up after was so long ago she couldn’t remember it. When he returned to the room, he stopped behind her with his hands on her shoulders. A chill ran down her spine when he leaned close and trailed his nose along the curve of her neck, inhaling slowly.

“Did you enjoy your breakfast?” he asked.

“It was delicious. Thank you.”

His hands slid forward over her shoulders and slowly down past her collarbone. Closing her eyes, she sat as still as a statue. Things hadn’t been physical between them since they stopped trying to conceive. The months of doctor’s appointments and injections, only to end in negative pregnancy tests, really took a toll on their already rocky relationship. She had hoped a baby would bring them closer. In hindsight, it was a relief that things hadn’t worked out.

“What are you doing?” she asked as his fingers grazed her nipples, causing yet another chill.

“I took care of breakfast. I think it’s fair,” he answered, allowing his mouth to brush against her ear.

That he expected tit for tat had her hackles up even more than his unwelcomed touch. She shoved down her feelings in an attempt to keep the peace. She didn’t want to cause any more ripples when they still hadn’t discussed her going to the audition instead of the benefit.

She kept still while he continued to travel down her body, his hands briefly squeezing her breasts before continuing to slide lower. When he reached the hem of her sleep shirt, he took a moment to place a kiss on the sensitive space behind her ear. Her slow deep breath kept her from recoiling from his touch.

“I have work today,” she objected.

His left hand squeezed her bare thigh as his right thumb hooked the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, his hand working its way up the inside of her thigh. When he reached her center, he stroked his fingers over her panties.

“We have time.”

She pressed her thighs together, but he used both hands to pry them apart. “Don’t pretend you don’t want me, too. It’s been a long time; you’ve missed me.”

Drawing in another deep breath, she forced away her panic. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had sex with him plenty of times before. She could do it. It would keep the peace. There was no way he’d go along with her decision to skip the benefit if she fought him. She forced herself to relax as he slipped a hand inside her panties and spread her flesh with his fingers. She didn’t protest when he hauled her from the chair and bent her over the table. When he slid her panties down her thighs, she focused her attention on the cool feel of the wood against her cheek.

“I’m tired and not really in the mood,” she complained, attempting one last protest.

“It’s okay. I’ll do the work.”

Before she could say anything else, he was behind her and forcing his way inside. He set a harsh pace as she braced herself against the table and waited for it to be over. One hand held her in place by her hip while his other one roamed under her shirt to her bare breast.

“Do you like that?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Tears silently streamed down her face and onto the table. He didn’t notice. He never cared if she was in the mood. As his wife, she did her duty and struggled to stay calm until he was finished. The hand on her hip squeezed tighter and his thrusts grew quicker, letting her know it wouldn’t be long. Wrapping his hand around the front of her neck, he grunted as he thrust one last time.

Without a word he withdrew and retreated to the bedroom, leaving her bent over the table in tears. She stayed put until she could collect herself. She’d put up with worse. At least he hadn’t hit her. She only kicked herself for not seeing it coming. She should have known better than to accept his kindness at face value. After pulling her panties up and fixing her shirt, she folded herself into the corner of the couch and waited for him to leave the bedroom.