Chapter 38 #2
“Brendan, give me a taste.” Ky’s eyes drop to my lips, and I blush like a teenager. Relenting, I scoop up a decent mouthful and feed it to him. “Don’t say I never give you anythin’, Davies.”
Ky’s tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip, his lustful gaze pinning me in place. “I’d never say that. But I’ll always want more.”
My frontal lobe switches off and my dick takes over after having held out all evening. What I’d like to do is climb across the table and settle in his lap. See if he’s hard for me. I’d like to make out with him in front of all these people then follow him home so he can fuck me senseless.
But Ky isn’t mine, and I’m not his, and suddenly a terrible thought comes to mind. What if he’s started dating again? Or hooking up? Jesus, maybe he’s on Grindr. The man always had an insatiable appetite for sex.
Jealousy pricks at my skin.
“How’s single life treatin’ you?” I ask. “You datin’ again? Or just fuckin’?” He looks hurt by my questions, and I immediately regret asking.
“I’m not dating Bren. And I’m way too old for casual sex.” His eyes soften a little. “I told you, I’m holding out for Mr. Right.”
“Yeah? You met him yet?” I tease.
“Sure have. He was that kid in school that everyone was afraid of and for some crazy reason he wanted to be mates with me.”
I try to stifle my smile but fail miserably. “He sounds like a dickhead.”
Ky tilts his head to one side and purses his lips. “Not once you get to know him. He’s tough on the outside but all gooey on the inside.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You like that in a man, do you?”
“I love that in a man. I love him.”
Our eyes remain locked on each other for a long time as the ache in my chest grows and grows.
We end up playing pool again, shamelessly flirting and eye fucking each other while the insults fly. It’s our way, and it feels right. I don’t want this night to end, but it’s getting late, and I need to head home.
I insist on walking Ky to his car and I can’t deny it feels like we’re on a date.
His car is parked down a quiet side street and there’s not another person in sight.
It immediately feels dangerous. Ky’s energy shifts and intensifies, the tension pulling tight between us.
I don’t want this night to end badly, and I fear I’ve given Ky the wrong impression.
Did he think tonight would be the start of something more?
Stopping at his Porsche, he turns to face me, taking my hands. His eyes glisten with emotion but I resist the urge to look away.
“Bren, I want you to be happy. I truly do. Even if it’s not with me.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, relieved I’ve misread the situation, then tug him to me, raising my face to receive a gentle kiss.
“Ky, I always wanted it to be you,” I say honestly.
“I’ve loved you since I was seventeen. I’m sorry it has to be this way.
” I step back, putting some distance between us, not trusting myself to do the right thing when I can feel the heat of his body. “Look after yourself, Davies.”
Walking backwards, I take one, two, three steps more, trying to memorise every detail of his face in case it’s the last time I see him. Ky doesn’t speak, just smiles back sadly. Then I turn and walk briskly away.
Chris is talking about someone from work while I mumble a hmm and a yeah when it seems appropriate.
But I’m not really listening. A few weeks have passed since I last saw Ky, but my mind is still at The Boathouse and outside my showroom.
It’s in the hospital corridor and in Ky’s bed.
At night, before I fall asleep, I revisit all the places of our youth, running through my best and worst memories as I try to untangle the desires of my heart.
I compare the two versions of Ky I carry inside me: the boy from my youth and the mature man he is now. Your heart will eventually win out, Stacey said.
I finish haphazardly setting the table for dinner, Chris still busy at the stove.
“I’m gonna head upstairs and change quickly,” I say.
“No worries sweetheart, dinner will be ready in about five minutes.”
In our bedroom, I strip out of my work clothes and pull on some trackies and a T-shirt. Part of me is tempted to ask Chris why he went to see Ky, but I know that might push our marriage closer to the end.
Your heart will eventually win out.
Truth be told, I’m scared to love Ky, just like the first time around. But Chris has never had all of me because I never felt compelled to give it. It seems clear now that I misled Chris, when he’d always been all in.
Your heart will eventually win out.
Am I prepared to take a leap of faith with Ky? To risk everything a second time? Am I willing to bear the responsibility of breaking Chris’s heart? My husband, who doesn’t deserve any of this.
His voice from downstairs momentarily snaps me out of my thoughts. “Dan, dinner is ready.”
I sit down to eat, then realise Chris is still standing at the kitchen sink, staring out into the backyard. “Chris, it smells great. You okay? Are you sitting down?”
“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
My body stills as a terrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. I place my knife and fork back down on the table, careful not to make any noise. Chris remains with his back to me. I have no words and no idea how to respond to his question.
“You’re always going to love him because it’s always been him,” Chris continues.
I could lie again. Deny it and tell him he’s being paranoid. But tears begin to trail down my cheeks and I know the game is up. Chris slowly turns towards me.
He looks like a person who’s battled with something for a long, long time and finally come to accept defeat. His expression is solemn resignation.
“Dan, I don’t want to be your second choice. I deserve more than that.”
Standing, I wipe at my tears. “I’m so sorry, Chris. I don’t think there’s anything I can say to fix this. My behaviour is unforgiveable, and you don’t deserve any of this. You probably won’t believe me, but I do love you.”
Chris steps closer, our eyes meeting in mutual sorrow. “I know you do, but you’re in love with him. I’ve thought about this a lot, and for quite a long time, and I think it would be best if we separate.”
I nod, the lump in my throat too thick and painful to swallow. “I understand. I’ll pack a bag, then. We can talk more when you’re ready.”
Chris shakes his head. “I don’t think talking will change anything. I just need some space to process. I don’t have the energy to argue, and I don’t want you to convince me we should try and work it out. My mind’s made up.”
I’m afraid Chris is going to ask me if I cheated, but I sense that he already knows. I feel like shit. “Okay,” I say, nodding.
I head upstairs to our bedroom and grab a large sports bag, stuffing in a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries, and a few pairs of shoes.
My mind is numb as I push through what I need to do, my shaking hands the only evidence of my fragility.
Should I try and fight for us? Am I making a terrible mistake?
When I return downstairs, Chris is sitting in front of the TV, the screen black. “Chris, will you be okay?”
He stands awkwardly then joins me at the front door. “I will be. I don’t hate you, Dan. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and it’s the right thing for both of us. You were only days away from making the same decision. I just wanted to beat you to it and do it on my own terms.”
I don’t deny it. “Can I hug you?” I haven’t the right to ask, and it’s probably selfish.
Chris pulls me to him, and I hold him close. “I’m sorry,” I murmur before pulling away. With a gentle kiss to his cheek, I pick up my bag and step out into the night.
The selfish part of me wants to go straight to Ky, but I won’t disrespect Chris like that.
Unsure of what else to do, I drive around for an hour before finally checking into a motel.
I call Stacey and tell her what’s happened, but I’m kind of out of it.
She asks me if I’m okay. While I’m not right now, I know I will be.
Chris was right. I was edging closer and closer to leaving. I’m glad he ended it on his terms, because he still has his dignity.
I order room service but only manage a few mouthfuls. Realising I’m dead tired, I crawl under the blankets and descend into a deep sleep.
The following morning, I call Kate and tell her I’m not coming into work.
It’s Friday, I think. I call motel reception and book the room for a second night.
There’s a lot to think about, like where I’m going to live, for starters.
And Ky. But for today, spending time alone is exactly what I need to get my head straight.