1. Declan Danger
1
DECLAN DANGER
5:50 A.M.
That’s what the clock across the room read. After nearly three years of having to set my alarm for six in the morning, my body was used to it. I’d started waking up ten minutes before the alarm was set to go off. In a way, I was thankful for the short moment of complete peace I was allowed, because once that alarm went off, I would be on the go until it was time for dinner. By the time 6:00 hit, I was out of bed and turning off the clock before Winter woke up, complaining about being woken up.
Because it was Saturday, our son, Donovan came to work with me. I wanted to get him started before getting myself together. I pulled on some shorts, left my bedroom, and walked across the house to his room. Tapping on the door a few times, I waited for a response before pushing it open. He sat on the side of the bed rolling his neck around like his body was stiff.
I leaned against the frame looking at him. “Long night?”
He shook his head. “I stayed up longer than intended watching YouTube.”
I chuckled at his word usage. With Diesel’s wife, Greysen, being a teacher, she was always helping him with his vocabulary, giving him two new words a week to learn.
“Well, you know you can sleep in if you want.”
School hadn’t started yet, so he didn’t really have a bedtime.
“No, I’m okay. I’ll just run over to Pretty Quinci’s and get her to make me some of that tea she says give her energy.”
“Okay, Donovan,” I said, shaking my head.
It didn’t make sense for me to tell Donovan not to bother his uncle and aunt this early because Dymon and Quinci treated him like he was their first child; he could come and go as he pleased, no matter the time. He even had his own room over there.
I left his door and went to the kitchen so I could grab my premade protein shake out of the freezer and put it in the blender. When I opened the freezer door, it wasn’t in its normal spot. I checked the deep freezer since she’d mistakenly put it there before. Every night before bed, Winter put one together for me, making it one less thing I had to do when I woke up. I looked around the deep freezer and my cup wasn’t there either. Winter must have forgotten to make it up, but it was cool, although it was her third time forgetting this week. I’d come in on my first break and make me one.
When I walked back into the room, Winter was still sleep. I didn’t want to wake her, so I gathered my clothes as quietly as possible before going into the bathroom and closing the door. I turned the shower on before brushing my teeth. After I was done, I rinsed my mouth out and hopped in the shower. Since I showered last night, I only needed a quick wash and rinse to fully wake up.
After showering, I got out and walked over to the sink to finish putting my facial products on. When I first moved down here, Quinci gifted me some facial products to use so the sun wouldn’t ruin my city-smooth skin as she called it. So far, it worked. After I was done, I got dressed and walked back into the room to see that Winter had woken up and was on her back staring at the ceiling.
“Good morning, baby. You good?” I asked.
“Yeah. Donovan going with you, right?”
“Yeah, he is.”
“Okay,” she responded and turned over, pulling her phone from under the pillow.
I stared at her back as I slipped on my shoes. Walking over to my nightstand to grab my watch, I glanced at her. Despite knowing my attention was on her, she kept her eyes fixed on her phone screen.
“Winter.” I called her name and waited until she looked up at me. “What’s up?”
“What you mean?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. I’m just asking.”
“This early in the morning? I’m just tired. And it’s Saturday, you know I sleep in today.”
“I don’t wanna fight, Winter.”
She looked back at her phone. It was too early to be fighting with her about nothing. It had been like that for the last couple months. If I took the bait, she’d torture me with the silent treatment for hours, maybe days. Every time I asked her what was wrong, she’d say nothing, so I didn’t know how to fix what was broken, if something was broken. I wished I could chalk her attitude up to her being on her cycle, but that attitude and moodiness only lasted for a few days, a week at the most.
I walked around to her side of the bed and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Glancing at her phone, she’d just swiped out of something, leaving me staring at our son’s face on her wallpaper.
“I’ll see you at lunch. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she mumbled.
I left the room in search of Donovan.
“Donovan!” I called out.
I didn’t get an answer, so I figured he’d already left and gone to his aunt and uncle’s house. Grabbing my shades, and cell phone, I walked out of the house to my golf cart. This city was so safe that I could leave my keys inside. I’d visited walkable cities, but that meant a few main attractions, and restaurants in the vicinity, but in Citrus Grove, you hardly needed a car. The cars I had were all in storage back in New York. I bought Winter one so she could drive over to the next city or further whenever she felt like it. If I wasn’t using my golf cart for work or my Yamaha Wolverine, I walked. On some special occasions, I pulled the cover off my custom-made Slingshot.
When I pulled in front of Dymon’s house, I heard Quinci laughing through the open window. I got off the golf cart and knocked on the door before walking inside.
“Coming in, coming in,” I announced.
I walked into the kitchen to Dymon holding his daughter Dymani and our niece Deija. Quinci and Donovan were laughing because the girls had put flour handprints all over Dymon’s face and neck. The fake shocked look on his face was funny. I never thought I’d see the day he was married before me with a life I was slightly envious of.
“Good morning, y’all,” I greeted.
“Good morninggg,” Quinci sang.
When Deija looked at me, her little eyes lit up and she immediately reached for me. She couldn’t tell me and Diesel apart when we weren’t together just yet, so she thought I was her dad. I walked over to them and held my hands out for her.
“Hey lil’ girl,” I spoke as she jumped in my arms.
With Diesel being out of town, and Greysen nearly due with their second child, he wanted her to get a lot of rest, so Deija stayed the night with her uncle and aunt. Dymani and Deija couldn’t get enough of each other.
She turned my head from side to side, studying my face, making everybody laugh. Me and Diesel wore the same goatee, so there wasn’t a difference in our faces. When she finally thought about it, she leaned over and tugged at my sleeve, looking for the tattoo of Donovan and Winter’s name, which was the one major difference between us. When she found it, she looked at me, showing me her eight little cute teeth.
She pointed at my cheek and laughed.
“Yes, I’m uncle.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I kissed her head.
“You staying for breakfast?” Quinci asked.
I shook my head. “Nah. Not this morning.”
“Donovan, you ready?” I asked him.
He looked at me and then at his Uncle Dymon. “Is it okay if I stay here and help them cook breakfast and help with my cousins?”
I nodded. “I’ll be home on my break if you want to come out and help me.”
I handed Deija back to Dymon and pinched Dymani’s cheek.
“You good?” Dymon asked.
“Yeah, I’m good. You coming out there?”
Occasionally, he came out there and worked with us. Working together in the grove was how we started to rebuild our relationship a couple of years ago.
“Me and the girls might come out there later when the sun goes down.”
“All right.” We bumped fists.
“See y’all later.”
As I was leaving the kitchen, I caught Donovan’s wide, bright eyes staring up at his uncle, a big smile on his face. I knew that look was because he wanted a sibling. Since we’d moved here, he’d been asking me and his mom to make him a little sister. He said everyone in his class had a brother or a sister and it made him jealous. What he didn’t know was I’d been trying to get Winter to have another baby before we even moved here. Shit almost immediately after he was born, I wanted another one. The last time I brought it up was last year after her 37th birthday and she told me that she had to think about it, which had been her response since Donovan’s 1st birthday. My mom told me I would have made it worse if I brought up the complications of pregnancy as she got older. I promised myself I wouldn’t ask again, even though I got slightly envious every time I saw my brothers with their daughters.
Outside, I hopped on the golf cart and headed toward the grove’s shed, where we kept all the tools we needed. The sun had started to peek through clouds. Being born and raised in one of the biggest cities in the world, I thought moving to small-ass Citrus Grove would be a punishment for me, and for a while, it was. Looking out the window and seeing nothing but rows of trees only served as a reminder of how my baby brother banished me to what felt like the middle of nowhere. It served as a reminder that I nearly ruined my family’s company. The biggest reminder it served was that I was nowhere near as smart or capable as my brothers. I didn’t start to see the bright side of things until Donovan told me he loved it here. If he could deal with abrupt change, then so could I.
When Dymon first told me what I was going to do, I hated it, but I had no room or leverage to fight it. It was either move here and learn this sector of the company or get fired from the company, live off my savings, and get a job somewhere else. He already knew the latter was out because there was no chance anyone else would hire me, especially in the hospitality field. That humble pie was bitter, but learning about the agricultural business on a small level helped me understand where I’d gone wrong during my small tenure as CEO of Danger Inc. Once again, Dymon was right and it pained me to admit it, but it felt good to be able to teach him some stuff he didn’t know.
Approaching the shed, I noticed that our volunteers were already there, and Kemba was at the door unlocking it. Our volunteers were some high school seniors looking to get some community service hours on their resume. Since they were out of school, they’d been coming throughout the week too. They were eager to learn, and it was cool to have some young men look up to me. After parking the golf cart, I stepped off and walked over to the group. Kemba held the door open.
“What’s up y’all?” I spoke to them.
They all threw their heads back as they walked inside.
“What’s up, Bro?” I spoke to Kemba and dapped him up before heading inside.
“Happy I woke up. Where Lil’ Man?” Kemba asked.
“He wanted to stay behind at his uncle’s house. Quinci’s cooking.”
“Oh, yeah that’ll do it.” He chuckled. “Y’all, we are going to start in the north quadrant. We are going to fill ten five-pound bags with oranges and lemons that will go into the main building in the museum. The rest will be going to the greenhouse. Let’s try to shoot for at least two hundred pounds before lunch. And if you are unsure of what and how to cut something, please, please, ask somebody,” Kemba instructed.
They all nodded in agreement.
“It’s going to be two of y’all to a golf cart,” I added.
I grabbed some sets of keys and handed them to the young men. After we made sure they had everything, we left the shed and Kemba locked up. Kemba and I hopped on my golf cart and headed toward the north quadrant. The grove was ten acres full of lemon and orange trees, the biggest money maker in Citrus Grove. There was a museum on the land, which got thousands of tourists a year. A lot of nearby schools brought their kids for field trips. Helping the energetic kids pick the oranges and lemons was one thing that made living here bearable.
Kemba looked at his phone.
“Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to tell you to ask yo’ girl if she wants to volunteer for the back-to-school festival, for my auntie. She said she messaged her on Facebook and didn’t get a response.”
“Oh, she doesn’t be on Facebook like that, but probably not. I’ll still ask her, though.”
“She still doesn’t like it here?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say then?”
Since I’d been working here, Kemba and I became good friends. Even though we were close, he was still best friends with my brother’s wife, so I still watched what I said.
“I don’t know. She was born and raised in New York. This move was a big ass change for her.”
“When’s the last time she been back home?”
“She went home for Christmas, and I flew with Donovan for New Years. Nah, wait. She went for Valentine’s Day too.” I scratched my head. “And her and Donovan went for a few days during Spring Break.”
Damn. I’d now realized how often she went back to New York.
“Aw, so she goes whenever she feel like it.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it doesn’t bother me. That was a promise I made to her when she first agreed to move here.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, nodding.
“What?”
“Nothing, for real.”
“Nah. You thinking something.”
“Yeah, I am, but I don’t know your girl like that, so I don’t want to speak out of turn.”
“You might as well.”
“Do you ever think she might be… you know?”
I whipped my head toward him. “Hell nah. She ain’t like that.”
“A’ight, bro.” He held his hands up. “That’s why I ain’t want to say nothing. I don’t want to get you worked up.”
Winter cheating had never crossed my mind, honestly, because she wasn’t that type of girl. Kemba didn’t know Winter like that because she barely came around and when she did, she was mostly quiet. After Kemba’s country charm didn’t make her open up, he stopped trying to get to know her. She had a hard time adjusting to the move. I didn’t understand why because she hardly ever went out when we lived in New York. I guess it was better to have access if she wanted than to not have it all. For the first few months, she gave me the silent treatment knowing how bad that fucked with me. I told her I’d do anything she wanted to help her adjust, but nothing made her comfortable. Eventually, she came around, but it was hell at first. She didn’t even care about all the extra money I would make.
I stopped at the top of the row we were going to start working on, hopped off the golf cart, and put on my work belt and bag. Kemba got off and walked over to the volunteers and started giving them the instructions again. I popped in my earbuds, keeping the volume low in case I needed to hear something.
Pulling my shears from my belt, I began chopping the oranges off the tree and dropping them in my side bag. It took me a while to get used to doing physical labor from sunup to sundown. I didn’t have to do it, but it was the only thing that kept me sane while Winter was icing me out; I got used to the feeling it gave me. On top of the physical changes working did for my body, it helped with my mental health. I’d gone from taking four anxiety pills a day to taking them as needed. I’d had my ninety-day prescription for nearly a year. I guess being around a lot of trees and fresh oxygen helped.
I’d been working for nearly an hour when my Apple Watch buzzed against my wrist and a message from Winter came through.
Winter: I thought Donovan was going with you.
Instead of responding, I called her, but she didn’t pick up. She sent another text.
Winter: I’m on the phone with my mom. I just wanted to ask you that.
Again, instead of responding, I called. It rang several times before she picked up.
“I told you I was on the phone with my mom, Declan. I didn’t want anything,” she answered, sounding annoyed.
“Hello to you, too. Did he come home or something?”
“No. I peeked out the window and saw him taking out the trash with Dymon.”
“Oh, okay.”
There was an awkward moment of silence. I wanted to ask her again if we were okay because thinking about what Kemba said made me wonder if she would ever do that to me. Things had been slightly different over the last couple of months, but not so different that I felt I needed to worry. I hated when I got an idea in my head and couldn’t get it out. I didn’t want to overthink it. The only other time I suspected she was cheating on me, she wasn’t, and she ended our relationship. I had to beg her to take me back. Remembering what that was like, I decided not to say anything about it.
“I’ll be home for lunch.”
“You told me before you left. What are you going to eat?”
“Are you making something?”
“No. I plan on going to the beach and signing Donovan up for that two-day math camp one of the moms was talking about in a Facebook group.”
My eyebrows furrowed because I thought I’d told the truth by telling Kemba the truth when I said she wasn’t active on Facebook like that. Her main social media sites were Instagram and Twitter. I didn’t want to think Winter would purposely ignore Kemba’s aunt.
“Oh, that’s the first I’m hearing about this Facebook group.”
“I don’t have to tell you everything, Declan.”
“About our son, yes you do.”
When she sighed, I imagined she rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “What’s up with you? Why does it seem like you are trying to start a… shit!” I missed the limb and cut my thumb with my sheers, blood immediately gushing. “I cut my thumb, Winter. Let me call you back.”
I ended the call and headed for the golf cart to grab the first aid kit.
Kemba, who had been working on the tree next to me, turned around. “You straight?”
“Yeah, I got my thumb pretty good.”
I opened the kit, only to find it was nearly empty. With no other options, I walked over to the other golf cart to borrow their first aid kit. Their kit had some cleaning items, but no bandages. Using the saline spray, I cleaned my thumb to check if I would need stitches, but the bleeding hadn’t slowed down. I wrapped the bottom of my shirt around my thumb to help stop the bleeding.
“Yo, I’m going to run home to grab some bandages and my good gloves. You good?”
“Yup.”
I got on the golf cart and headed home.
The top of my house could be seen from the other side of the grove. I was proud of it because it was one of the first things that I owned by myself. It wasn’t anything like my parents’ house in New York, but it was nice, comfortable, and big enough for a few more kids whenever Winter stopped tripping. As I approached the house, I noticed Winter’s car was still in the yard. I was happy she hadn’t left yet. Maybe we could talk while I cleaned my hand.
Hopping off the golf cart, I entered the house to find it unusually quiet. By now, Winter would be up and about. When I walked into our bedroom, she wasn’t in the bed either. Just as I was about to call out for her, I heard moans coming from the bathroom— a male's moans and Winter's moans. Instantly, my heart hit my feet and acted as cement, keeping me in place. I removed my earbuds, hoping I was mishearing… but I wasn’t. I wanted to move, but I physically couldn’t. My hands were starting to shake. The swooshing in my ears was like a tornado moving at a hundred miles per hour. I balled my hands up, digging my nails into my skin, trying to distract my brain, but it didn’t work. The blood from my thumb started to fill my fist, dripping through my fingers onto the floor.
My phone rang, startling me and Winter on the other side of the door. I heard things crashing in the bathroom before the door flew open and Winter stood there looking at me with a shocked expression. Her eyes dropped down to my shirt and the blood dripping through my fingers on the floor.
“Declan! You’re bleeding all over the floor!”
She rushed over to me and tried to get me to sit down, but I didn’t move. I looked past her into the bathroom, waiting to see if someone else would come out.
“Declan.” She looked up at me while trying to move me again, but I kept my eyes on the entrance to the bathroom.
She snatched a towel off the dresser and wrapped it around my fist, squeezing tightly.
My phone started to ring again.
She looked at my watch. “Diesel’s calling you.”
I looked down at her. “What were… what were you doing in there?”
Her eyes shifted from side to side. “What do you mean?”
I cleared my throat, hoping that would relieve some of the tightness.
“Winter, please, answer me,” I begged.
“I don’t—”
“Winter!” I hissed.
“I was using the bathroom, Declan.”
“No, you—”
My doorbell chimed, followed by a series of loud knocks on the door before it slammed.
“Declan!” I heard Dymon yelling from the living room.
I closed my eyes, trying to gather myself before he found us.
“Yo, Dec, Diesel was… what the fuck happened?”
With my back toward the door, all he saw was the blood-stained towel Winter held around my fist. He walked over to us, eyeing her before looking at me and then my shirt.
“What happened?”
I looked at Winter and then back at Dymon.
“I’ll let you two talk,” she said, skating out of the room.
She knew I wasn’t going to say anything about it while Dymon was around. I’d never give him, Diesel, or my father the satisfaction of knowing what they said about her two decades ago had finally come true. For twenty years, they tolerated her, and I would never give them ammunition to hate her.
Dymon watched her walk out of the room before he looked at me.
“What happened?” he asked.
I cleared my throat. “Nothing, I… I hurt myself at work and had to come home and get some bandages.”
I headed toward the bathroom and then abruptly stopped, considering what I’d just heard. What if there was a man in there? Dymon would kill him with his bare hands and never let me live it down.
“What?” Dymon said.
“Uh, I just had a thought that the bandages I was looking for are in the kitchen,” I said, heading in the opposite direction.
He followed me out of the room and into the kitchen. Winter stood at the refrigerator fixing me a protein shake. I opened the medicine cabinet, hoping and praying it was some bandages in there. Thankfully, there was.
“Why are you getting bandages from here? The first aid kits are not stocked at the grove?”
“No. Yes.” I rubbed my hand down my head, frustrated.
I snatched the bandages out of the cabinet, along with some ointment and walked over to the sink with him trailing me.
“Which is it? Declan, you know if someone gets hurt and it comes out that those first aid kits were not stocked, we could get a big fine.”
“Dymon, I know.”
“Well, if you know—”
I looked at him. “Dymon, I can’t do this right now. Everything will be handled by the end of the day. I promise.”
“No. Take care of it before lunch. I will be over there to check.”
When Dymon was about business, he was about business. He was always quick to let me, and other people know it was his name on the company, as if he was the only person with the last name Danger. If I didn’t respect anything else, I could respect the way he ran our family business. He was the reason Danger, Inc was almost a billion-dollar company.
I turned the water on and held my hand under it, watching the blood wash down the sink.
“Are you okay, though?” he asked.
I nodded slowly. “What did Diesel want?”
He shrugged. “You know that twin thing he swears he has with you. I don’t know. Guess his thumb started hurting when you almost wacked yours off,” he said, laughing. “Do you need stitches?”
“Nah. I think I’m good.
The bleeding had almost stopped.
“Okay, good.”
“Where is Donovan?”
“Helping Quinci put them girls down for their naps.”
“Okay, good.”
“A’ight. Well, I’ll see you in a few.”
He patted my shoulder and left out the kitchen. Once he was out of the house, the silence in the kitchen was loud. Thinking of another man being in my house had my anxiety getting ready to rile up again, until Winter turned the blender on, startling me. One thing I’d learned about my anxiety was that if I distracted my brain, my symptoms would slowly fade away. As I focused on the sound of the blender and the water splashing over my hand, everything started to go back to normal.
After I finished washing my hands, I covered the cut in triple antibiotic ointment and folded the bandages over it before wrapping a Band-aid around it. I felt Winter eyes fixed on me and continued to stare out the window, still in disbelief that I basically caught her cheating on me and she lied to my fucking face about it. For as long as we’d been together, we promised each other we’d always talk about whatever issues we were having.
Winter came and stood next to me with my protein shake in her hand. “Declan, here.”
I bit the corner of my lip hard, once again trying not to focus on my chest and throat tightening.
“We should really talk, Declan.”
“About you fucking a man in my house? That’s what you want to talk about.”
I couldn’t even look at her.
“Declan, there was not a man in our house. I was…” she paused.
“Do not lie to me.”
“I was watching porn.”
I squinted at her. “What?”
“I was watching porn, Declan.”
“What kind of porn?”
“What?”
“What? What kind of porn were you watching, Winter?”
“So, you don’t believe me?”
I blinked slowly before turning and facing the sink again. In the many years I worked directly under Duncan Danger; he’d taught me how to spot a liar. One of the easier tactics was when people asked a question in response to a question; it gave them time to formulate an answer, and she’d done it not once, but twice. I dropped my head and latched onto the sink, trying to catch my breath.
“God, Declan, there wasn’t a man in here!”
“Winter, maybe there wasn’t a man in my house, but you weren’t watching porn, and I can’t believe you would lie to me.”
“I’m not lying!” she persisted.
“Then what are you lying about?”
As tears filled her eyes, I walked away and headed toward the door.
“Take your protein shake,” she called out.
“Forget it.”
I walked out of the house, hopped on the golf cart, and headed back to the grove. I needed to get my mind busy so I wouldn’t have a full-blown anxiety attack. When I pulled back up to the group, I got off the cart and grabbed my things.
“You good, bro?” Kemba asked.
“Yeah.”
“Where yo’ gloves?”
“Shit,” I mumbled. “I completely forgot.”
“It’s all good. I got an extra pair,” he said, reaching into his bag and handing me his extra pair.
“Thank you, and we gotta get those first aid kits restocked before lunch.”
“Already done. We took a break when you left.”
“Good.”
I popped my earbuds back in and worked like the love of my life hadn’t just snatched the rug from under me.
Later that night…
It was after midnight, and I sat on my back porch, puffing on a blunt and sipping on a glass of Remy straight. I’d been on autopilot since I left my house earlier. While I worked, not even the music and snipping off the oranges distracted my brain enough to stop me from thinking about Winter and what the hell I’d done wrong. I hoped and prayed I’d get a long text explaining everything, making me wrong about what I was thinking, but I didn’t. I fought myself not to call or text her, and trying to keep a conversation going with anyone at work was hard. I was sure the only person who could tell something was wrong with me was Kemba because he paid attention to everything.
After work, I wasn’t ready to face her, so I had dinner at Quinci and Dymon’s house. When they asked about her, it was hard to keep a straight face. I’d hoped Dymon didn’t pick up on it. After staying as long as I could without it getting suspicious, I put a sleeping Donovan in his bed there before making my way home. Winter was on the couch watching TV when I walked in. We didn’t speak to each other, and it was the same way when I got out of the shower and walked out onto the porch.
Once the buzz from the weed and liquor hit, the last couple months replayed in my mind. She’d been acting different, but I didn’t think anything of it because she always got in a mood and acted like that. Considering my actions over the last couple months, I knew I hadn’t done anything to warrant her stepping out on me. There wasn’t a code on my phone, so she could look in it anytime she felt like it. She knew the code to my computer. Hell, even if I wanted to cheat, this town was too damn small to do anything without her finding out.
My body tensed at the sound of Winter’s feet sliding across the floor. I knew she was on her way to the door. I still wasn’t ready to face her. I was off on Sunday’s and had no problem sleeping on the porch.
“Declan.”
I didn’t respond.
“Can we talk? Please.”
“Are you going to tell the truth?” I asked.
“Yes.”
As I nodded, she came out and sat next to me. Out the corner of my eye, I watched her twirl her thumbs around. While she figured out what she wanted to say, I stared out at the trees.
She sighed. “We’ve been together since I was seventeen, and for a long time, I’ve been wanting something different.”
Nodding slowly, I mumbled, “Something different.”
“Yes, and I started talking to a guy.”
I grabbed my glass and took a big gulp to burn away the lump growing in my throat.
“It’s literally nothing serious at all, Declan. I really need you to believe me.”
“How am I supposed to believe that? You had him—”
“Damn it, Declan,” she hissed. “There was no one here. We were on a Facetime call and… masturbating.”
I whipped my head toward her. “That’s the something different you want? Masturbating on the phone?”
She looked away from me. “And there is something else.”
“Oh my God,” I sighed and looked back out toward the trees.
“Declan.” She tried to slip her hand into mine, but I moved it out of her grasp.
How could she want to touch me after confessing some bullshit like that?
I took another gulp of liquor, but that burn failed to make the lump in my throat go away. My chest began to constrict, and I had a feeling I knew where she was about to take the conversation. Suddenly my hands started to tremble; I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my skin.
“I want to revisit a conversation we had a couple years ago,” Winter expressed calmly, while my heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest.
“Winter, no,” came out hollowly.
My heart rate picked up, almost like it was skipping every other beat. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear anything past the swooshing sound in my ears. I started yanking at the collar of my T-shirt because of the sudden heat wave flowing through my body. Closing my eyes, I rocked back and forth slowly, bumping my back against the chair.
You are not having a heart attack, Declan.
Your heart is fine.
This moment will pass.
Winter grabbed my hand and shoved two pills in it. Without hesitation, I threw them in my mouth and swallowed them. She kept a firm hold on my hand and wrist as each symptom subsided one by one.
“Declan, I knew you would do that. Every time I want to have a serious conversation, you throw yourself into an anxiety attack to get out of it, and quite frankly, I am sick of it. We are going to have this conversation whether you like it or not.”
I looked at her and she glared at me with an unreadable expression.
“Declan, I love you. I’ve loved you for twenty years. I’ve taken care of you for twenty years. I’ve given you a child. I’ve moved across the world away from family for you and around these country-ass people, who I can’t seem to get along with. Me telling you I want something different doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I just want something different.”
“But you… you want to have…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.
“Not necessarily. An open relationship doesn’t mean sex all the time. It could just be a different type of connection.”
“Do you think I’m stupid, Winter?”
“No, I don’t. You think I can’t separate casual sex from—”
“You just said it wasn’t about sex.”
“It’s not. It won’t be from time to time. What I’m saying is, Declan, I just want to explore different things right now. I don’t want to break up with you. I still love you, but I just want…”
“Something different, yeah. You keep saying that.”
“This gives you the chance to explore other things too. Things you may like now that you didn’t like years ago. I believe this will work well for our relationship.”
I shook my head.
“You mean to tell me you’ve never looked at all these country, small waisted, big booty ass women around here, who are always complimenting you and your pretty smooth skin and big lips, and thought—”
“No. No, I haven’t, Winter. I smile at those conversations and that’s the end of it. I don’t want to explore anything with another woman. After twenty years, I am very satisfied with you.”
“Satisfied?” She almost laughed. “And when’s the last time you’ve been satisfied?”
My eyes darted from side to side, trying to remember the last time we had sex. I felt like shit for not being able to remember.
“You don’t know, so let me help you. Two months. It’s been two months since we’ve had sex. It probably would have been longer if I hadn’t initiated it.”
“Lately, Winter, every time I’ve tried to initiate sex, you grunt and bitch and moan like sex has become a chore, so I figured I’d just let you initiate sex when you wanted it.”
She gripped her head, sighing loudly. “Have you thought that maybe I’m just tired of the three kisses on my left shoulder, the seven kisses around my neck and lips before you kiss down my stomach, eat my pussy until you think I’ve nutted, and then pump into me five times before you’re done?” she snapped, her voice getting louder.
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed.
I looked over at Dymon’s house, less than fifty feet away, and then further down at Diesel’s house to make sure there were no lights on.
“Yes, let’s keep it down so we might be able to hear them fuck,” she whisper-shouted. “Sometimes, I sit out here just to hear Dymon put Quinci through the wall so I can get off.”
I stood up and stared down at her. She sat back in the seat and stared up at me, biting the corner of her lip, fearing that she’d gone too far.
“All I am saying is that it wouldn’t hurt for you to come in from work, see me in the bed and fuck me. I’ve gone to bed plenty of times naked just to see what you would do, and you ignore me. I didn’t intend on this talk getting nasty like this Declan. I just want to tell you how I feel.”
“How you feel? You come out here…” I sat down, beginning to rock. “Winter, you come out here to tell me you want an open relationship when you’ve already opened it. You’re only telling me because you, what? Got caught? A formality? Or you didn’t want me to find out from anyone else? Who was the guy on the phone? How long has that been going on?”
“Just a guy. We’ve never met up. It’s just been an over-the-phone thing.”
“A’ight.” I threw back the rest of my liquor.
“Listen. Let’s just try it out for two or three months.”
I didn’t respond.
She grabbed my hand and kissed it. When I tried to snatch it away, she held her grip on me and kissed my hand again.
“After these three months, we’ll get married, and I’ll stop taking my birth control.”
I stared at her quietly to see if she was joking.
“I’m sorry for how this is coming out, but I’m not sorry it’s being said. I’m trying to save us. I am telling you this will save us, Declan. I love you. I’m in love with you. I just feel like I’m starting to resent you and…” She blinked as tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Resent me? Because I don’t feel like you going out and fucking other people will save us? I don’t… I don’t understand. You’ve wanted to do something like this before? So, you’ve been feeling resentful for years?”
She stood up and sighed. “Forget it, Declan.”
Before she disappeared into the house, I caught her by the wrist. “And if I say no?”
Her eyes rolled to the floor. “Then you just say no.”
I knew what that look meant. I’d only witnessed it a few times, but that look, along with that statement, meant she would do it anyway. Now, the rock and the hard place I was stuck in were knowing and stressing about it while pretending to not know and still stressing about it. Her mind was made up and there was nothing I could do.