Estranged Heart

Eleven

Silas

“What do you mean you have to work?” My gaze follows Stacey as she searches for her name badge.

“Someone called in and Elijah asked if I’d cover her shift.”

My heart speeds up at the mention of his name. “And you said yes? Elijah doesn’t have anyone else he can call?”

Seeing him yesterday took me by surprise. Stacey worked at his husband’s restaurant. At his restaurant. I was basically being held against my will—forced to see him everywhere. Unsettled and confused, I stayed mostly quiet, keeping my distance. The response my body had from being in the room with him and Stacey was both absurd and laughable.

I was standing right next to my wife but my heart was saying, “Look at him. Touch him. Kiss him.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I am.” She interrupts my thoughts. “But the restaurant needs me. We’re short staffed. Elijah hasn’t had a chance to hire a new manager yet and Perry is shit at hiring people.”

She forgets, Perry was the one who hired her. She was only a bad choice because of me. All I do is hold her back and will only continue to add to her misery. Who knew a heart transplant could be a bad thing? What was supposed to be the answer to our problems has further shaken and wrecked our lives. Our house was already slanted and now it’s crumbling.

Sighing, I lean against the bedroom door frame and she squeezes past me, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Turning the light off behind me, I walk toward the kitchen, standing in front of her. Slipping on her shoes, she smiles at me, her big eyes apologetic. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Next weekend we can even camp at the lake if you want.”

“Next weekend? Are you sure you’ll actually have both days off?” A thought hits me seconds later. “Wait . . . I have a delivery to make on Saturday.” I don’t say who it’s for, and I’m not sure why, but bringing up Elijah’s name to her again feels wrong. Like he’s a secret I want to keep—from her and the world. Also, why hasn’t she mentioned Landon’s funeral? He wasn’t her favorite person but he was her boss. She hasn’t spoken of his death ever since the day she first found out about the accident, as if it was forever erased from her mind. We all grieve in our own way. Is that what she’s doing?

“Have someone else do it.” She interrupts my thoughts, grabbing her apron from the closet. “You’re not the only one who can, are you?”

“I’m the one who scheduled it. I just started working again and I’d hate to opt out of a delivery so soon. They might think I’m not ready to come back.”

“But you’re not.” She walks closer and reaches for my hands. “You’ve been so exhausted and distracted lately. You’re still having nightmares, aren’t you?” A sigh escapes her lips and she squeezes my fingers. “All this pushing yourself to do more than you’re ready for is probably not helping.”

“I’m fine. They aren’t that bad anymore,” I lie.

Dropping my hands, she takes a step back, pressing her fingers to her forehead. “I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. This isn’t like us. I keep nothing from you and you keep nothing from me, remember?” Her inability to fully look me in the eyes is a little off-putting. Is she hiding shit from me too?

“I’m not,” I retort. “They really are better.” If I say the words enough, will they come true? God, I hope so. This morning I didn’t want to wake up, desperate to stay where I was—with Elijah on a living room floor in front of a fireplace, our naked bodies intertwined together. This is so fucked. My heart is fucked. My head is fucked. All of it. Everything.

Sitting on one of the bar stools, she rests her hands on her knees, leaning forward. “You were whimpering and fighting against the blankets in your sleep yesterday. It’s hard to believe you when the real truth is lying on the surface.”

“I wasn’t . . . I . . .” Blood rushes to my head and I rest my hand on the nearby wall in order to keep steady. She’s wrong. I wasn’t whimpering or wrestling with the blankets because I was scared. What was happening to me in my sleep last night was worse than that. So much worse. I was moaning and shaking from an orgasm. Cum was sticking to me and my underwear when I got up to piss in the morning. Never has that happened. Not as an adult or a teenager.

“Oh Silas.” The fabric of her pants bunches in her fists as she stares up at me. “If it’s getting worse you need to go back and see the doctor.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” What do I tell him? The truth or the next lie I’m about to say to her?

“I lied because I didn’t want to worry you, but I don’t think staying home will fix anything either. Lying in bed during the day certainly won’t. If anything, I feel better when I leave the house and when I stay busy.”

She swallows hard and gets to her feet again. “You did seem really good after coming home from the bookstore. The happiest I’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Because I was,” I reassure her. I was happy for all the wrong reasons. Some I’m tired of trying to figure out. “I promise I’ll go back to the doctor. I’ll see a therapist if I have to, but taking a step back isn’t the answer.”

Nodding, she places a hand on my cheek. “Okay. I only want to help you any way I can. I won’t pick up extra shifts next week and only work my schedule, I promise. I’ll go with you to your appointment too, if you want.”

“Thanks, Stace, but I can handle going to one appointment alone.”

She rests her hands on my shoulders, peering deep into my eyes. “Well, the offer still stands if you change your mind. I’m always here for you. You know that.”

“I know, baby.” I sweep a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know.” I use the term of endearment because I know it’s what she needs. The muscles easing up in her face and her eyes softening confirm my assumptions.

“Go to work.” I speak again. “I’ll be here when you get back and we’ll sleep in tomorrow. Together.”

“Yeah.” She nods, kissing the corner of my lips. They get further and further away. “I’ll see you when I get home and we’ll stay in bed until I have to go in for my night shift.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Are you still going to the lake?”

“Probably. I’m hoping a swim will help me sleep better tonight. It’s been a while but I think I still remember how.” I flex my arms. “Just like riding a bike, right?”

Her brows furrow. “Are you sure you should be swimming alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll stay in the shallow end around other people, and maybe purchase some arm floaties on the way there.”

She puffs out a rushed breath. “I think you should at least take someone with you. Maybe a friend?”

“You know I don’t have those anymore,” I say in a light, joking tone. She doesn’t laugh and her face only tenses more.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“It’s why you married me. You love the challenge.”

She laughs. “I wish I could say you were wrong.” She presses a brief kiss to my cheek. Yup, further away. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t lose consciousness and drown out there.”

“If I do, at least I won’t have to worry about having nightmares anymore.”

Not looking amused, she quickly turns on her heel and heads to the front door. “Bye, stubborn ass.” As she walks outside, she turns my way. “Please be careful.”

“I will.”

“And don’t go to sleep without me. I shouldn’t be too late.”

“Go, go,” I say, in between chuckles. “You’re going to make yourself late.”

She says bye one more time before slamming the door closed. Sinking against the wall, I rest my face in my hands. I’ll have to lie to the doctor too. She’ll ask if I went and I’ll have to tell her I did in order to keep her happy. If it’s the only way I can then I’ll do it. I don’t want to keep lying so I won’t. Not when it comes to this. I can’t keep being a shit husband. It’s breaking me and her.

If only she knew that nightmares weren’t the issue anymore. They haven’t been for days. Seeing Elijah so much this week has been fucking with my head. My heart stammers when his face appears in my mind. Fuck. Slamming my head back against the wall doesn’t help. He’s still there, taunting me with his crooked smile and sparkling big brown eyes. Seeing his face soothes and calms the raging storm inside me. My skin burns as I claw at my scalp, desperate to break him free from my thoughts—from my memory. To remove him from my dreams.

Men kidnapping and strapping me to a table would have been better. Instead I was naked, hard, and rubbing my cock over Elijah’s, our tips leaking and his fingers smearing our precum together. His lips were parted and his eyes were half lidded. I thought seeing them wide open was hard to turn away from.

Wanting to shift focus, I dress in a pair of swim trunks and a muscle shirt, thinking about how long I plan to be in the water today. As long as it takes to tire me out so much my brain becomes a pile of mush. Who needs to have the energy to think anyway? Thinking is overrated. And dangerous too.

Leaving the house, I rush to my car and drive to the lake. In only twenty minutes, I’m pulling up into one of the spots I’ve been coming to recently. Today’s the first time I’ll be getting in the water. The weather is warm and perfect, the sun feeling amazing on my skin with a light breeze sweeping through my hair.

Only one other person is here, waving at me from the beach area, flexing her legs out on the sand. Walking to where she is, I wave back and lay my towel on the sand. After I drop my keys, shirt, and flip flips on top, I slowly approach the water.

“I think I oughta warn ya. The water is freezing today,” she says from behind me, staring up toward the sun with a large pair of pink-framed sunglasses on.

“Perfect. Exactly how I like it,” I respond, stepping into the lake. She’s right about it being cold, and I was right about it being perfect. Continuing to move forward, I lift my arms, and quickly dunk myself into the water once I’m far enough out. I swim closely by the woman for a little while before picking up my pace toward one of the docks. Biting off more than I can chew, I’m out of breath and my heart is struggling to catch up with the rest of me by the time I reach the dock. I place my hands on the wood and lift myself up onto my arms, resting my face on them while I catch my breath.

Getting excited about how good it felt to glide through the water again, I got carried away and forgot I was supposed to go slow. Rocking back and forth, kicking my legs, I lift my face out of the water and my heart jumps in my throat.

“Now I’m really convinced you’re tracking my phone or car.” Warm brown eyes hold mine in place.

“Or maybe you’re stalking me?”

Folding his arms, Elijah glances around, and when I look back, the woman from before is gone. My stuff sits all alone and I have no desire to go back for it, not when my heart tells me remaining here is the better option.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Suddenly I have the need to see if our hearts beat the same. Kicking off his shoes, he perches himself on the edge of the dock and dips his feet in the water. For the first time, I notice the tattoos on his legs. They’re mostly black and shaded, some colorful birds and flowers resting between them.

He doesn’t say anything, resting back on his hands and smiling down at me, the burn scars on his arms visible beneath his short-sleeved shirt. More marred skin covers one side of his neck and other random places on his body. I remember reading about the boat explosion in an online article. Not a lot of detail was released, only that his husband’s body was missing. Nothing said about what caused the boat to explode or the state Elijah was in when found.

I can’t imagine how awful the accident must have been and to be told your husband didn’t make it. He appears to be holding himself well on the outside, but if I look at him for too long I can tell he’s breaking on the inside. His pain is nearly suffocating when I get lost in his eyes. I only want to reach out to him more, and maybe if I take him in my arms we could both breathe better.

My heart speeds in my chest at the way the light hits his eyes and leaves a gold ring around his hair like a halo.

“So are you?” Dropping back into the water, I wave my arms, floating on my back.

“Am I what?” He tilts his head, kicking his legs.

“Stalking me.”

Laughing, he breathes out a long sigh. “If me going to all the places I usually go to classifies as stalking you, then sure.”

“You always come here?”

He nods curtly, going quiet again.

Looking down at my hands slowing in the water, I struggle to move my legs. Am I stalking him? If I am, it’s not on purpose. Did I really come here because I had a sudden urge to swim, or am I here for another reason?

“What about you?” He finally speaks again.

“I . . . I only started coming here recently. I’ve driven past here before but never thought to get out of the car until now. I couldn’t really swim before. I was too sick.”

“Was?” He eyes me curiously, leaning forward.

“Yeah. I suffered from a heart condition before and recently had a heart transplant. I was on a list for years.”

“Yeah, Landon told me you had a bad heart. He said it was the reason Stacey called out a lot. I was told you had a lot of close calls. It’s good to hear you’re doing better.”

Am I? Not in all ways at least. “Yeah. It’s nice to finally do things I couldn’t before. I mean, I have to take it slow but it’s a start.”

“Should you be swimming out here all alone?”

“I’m not alone.”

He laughs again. “You were before.”

I swim back to the dock, resting my hands next to him, my arm almost touching his leg. “Nah, there was a lady there before you came.”

Shaking his head, he huffs out a breath. “You take a lot of chances, don’t you?”

“Not usually. I guess gaining more freedom has made me a little greedy.”

“How long have you been out here? You’re already turning into a withered grape.”

My throat goes dry. “You mean a prune?”

“Same difference.”

Studying his fully clothed body and how he’s careful not to get more than his feet wet, I ask, “Do you ever get in the water?”

“Huh?”

“You said you come here all the time. Do you only come to dip your feet in and stare at the sky?”

“Pretty much. It’s usually more relaxing and peaceful than this.” His lips turn up into a grin.

Chuckling, I rest my hand on his knee without meaning to. My body gravitates to him without warning. I can fight it all I want, but my heart will keep thinking before my brain does and it’ll happen regardless. “It’s much better in the water. Get in and see for yourself.”

His eyes hook onto mine, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers. “I can’t swim.”

“Really?”

“Okay, that’s a lie. I don’t really care for it. I like it better up here.”

“You sure?” I jump back, leaving a wet hand print behind on his shorts.

He looks down at the spot and back at me. “Positive.” He closes his eyes and leans back again.

“Suit yourself.” Dipping myself under the water, I swim in a circle and come back up for air, hating how my lungs keep holding me back.

“You swim pretty well for someone who hasn’t done it in a while.”

“Some things are easy to pick back up. How do you know how to swim if you hate the water so much?”

Rolling his eyes, he shuffles his shoulders. “I never said I hate it, only that I’d rather be up here. The water is more admirable when I’m not in it.”

“Bet I can change your mind,” I blurt out, not sure what I mean by it.

“Doubt it. No one else has before.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. How do you know how to swim?”

His eyes open and he squints at me. “My mom forced me to have lessons when I was younger because she never got the chance to learn. She always had a fear of the water and didn’t want me to as well.”

“What does she say about you letting all that hard work go to waste?”

His face falls. “She uh . . . drowned when I was only ten. I guess she had a reason to be scared after all.”

“Shit.” Guilt strikes me in the chest. I always know when to say the wrong shit, don’t I? “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” His jaw tightens. “You couldn’t have.” He scoots back further, sitting in criss-cross position. “Anyway. It’s kind of why I don’t get in the water. If she was leery of it, then maybe I should be too. That, and like I said before, I like it better up here.” His drifting eyes tell me there’s more he’s not telling me, and as much as I want to know what that is, I don’t want to push him.

“Fair enough. I’ll join you where you are then.”

Before he can scoot over to make room for me, I lift myself up and sit beside him, wetting him more than the first time.

“You know, I stay a lot drier when you’re not here.”

Laughing, I bring my legs together, scooting away from him a little. “You’re at a lake. You’re expected to get a little wet.”

“And that’s why I dipped my feet in.”

“Not enough. You need a friend to jump up beside you after swimming and soak one side of your shorts.”

His eyes crinkle in the corners. “Oh, so we’re friends now?”

“You’ve been to my work, I’ve been to yours, we ate desserts together, and you recommended a good book for me to read. Now we’re sitting side by side at the lake after you shared something personal with me. I’d say we’re closer than a lot of people I went to school with.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Well, it’s hard to argue with you when you put it that way. You going to go back to swimming soon?”

I shake my head. “Being dry sounds better at the moment.”

“Yeah?” His pinky touches mine, my chest rising and falling heavily.

“Yeah. You were right. The sky and water look better from here. It’s like they knew we were coming, wanting to give us their best.”

His face pales and he inches closer. “What did you say?”

“I . . . It’s beautiful out here. Perfect even. Don’t you think?’

“Yeah. Yeah it is.” He licks his lips, inching closer. “Perfect indeed.”

My resolve diminishes, and watching how his chest rises and falls, I press my hand over it. His heart rate speeds up with mine, matching my rhythm. My heart isn’t as broken as I thought—only lost. I’m not in sync with Stacey anymore because I’m somehow linked to him. But why?

He wraps his fingers around my wrist, and an electric current passes between us. My head says I’m not supposed to be here but my heart disagrees. For the first time in months, I’m grounded and everything feels right with the world.

When the tips of our noses touch, he jumps back. “I’m sorry.” His fingers stay wrapped around my wrist and his other hand lands on my thigh. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he stiffens when he realizes how much he’s touching me. “I didn’t mean . . . I don’t know what’s happening. I didn’t mean to be this close.”

“I like you exactly where you are.” My words come out before I have a chance to think them through fully. Where did that come from? Why don’t I want to take it back?

We stare at each other for a long time, then Elijah’s tongue darts between his lips. There’s a familiar war in his eyes as our faces inch closer, controlled by an unbreakable force that’s beyond the both of us. Our heavy breaths mingle together and his lips crash into mine. I don’t pull away.

Gripping his hair, I deepen the kiss, and our hot tongues thrash together, mine clinging on to his the way a drowning man does a lifeline. I can’t stop. Trying to requires too much effort, while having him this way is as easy as breathing. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath this whole time, until now. He tastes like wine, chocolate, and everything delicious in the world.

I kiss him harder, thrusting my tongue deeper. I don’t realize I’m in his lap, rocking my body into his until his nails are digging into my hips. I’m about to pull away, but the moment his fingers run up my back and our chests press together I forget where we are and why we need to stop. The whole world fades away and I’m too lost in his warmth to want to leave. A wave of comfort washes over me and my heart no longer feels like it’s detaching from my body. It belongs where it is and so do I. It’s like there’s a new sickness inside me and Elijah is the only cure.

Our hard cocks grind together and I’m leaking in my trunks, needing to feel him more. More of his skin, more of his mouth and hands. Just more. He feels like home more than anywhere else I’ve been lately, and I finally feel I belong.

Honking sounds around us and I pull away, my body trembling as I glance around frantically. Like my last dream, Elijah’s eyes are half lidded and his face is flushed. He keeps looking at me as if trying to find someone else in my eyes.

People are talking and laughing in the parking lot, not paying attention to us as they unstrap a canoe from the top of their car. Climbing off his lap, I adjust my shorts and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I have to go. I should go.”

“Yeah,” is all he manages to say, scooting back and glancing down at the space between us.

With their voices growing louder, the group of friends approach us. Without another word, I jump into the water and swim back to where I left my towel. I don’t dry myself off or put my shirt back on before getting in my car. Sand rests between my feet and my flip flops as I press hard on the brake. When I look up, Elijah is nowhere to be found. As much as I want to keep looking for him, I reverse the car and drive toward the road, heading home.

I feel like I’m going the wrong way.