Chapter 5
WILLIAM
I didn’t know the date or how long it had been since I’d buried my wife.
As soon as I got home from the ceremony, I washed myself raw in the shower, then slid into bed naked, where I’d remained since.
My phone was long dead, the last message carving deep into my psyche like a permanent tattoo.
Forget about me. Treat me as if I died right alongside Mum. Because, in a way I did. Goodbye, Dad.
By the time I managed to type out a reply with my jittering fingers, the text bounced, soon followed by countless calls that didn’t connect.
Colton, my son, my pride and joy, had left. Not that I blamed him.
He had caught me doing the unthinkable at the worst moment imaginable. How could I expect his forgiveness when I couldn’t even forgive myself?
Familiar anguish speared through my chest as my guilty conscience forced me back in time to relive the harrowing memories of my past.
Bethany’s health had been declining, and after much convincing from me and Nikita, my wife finally agreed to book an appointment with the doctor.
It was bad news. My Bethy had transitioned into end-stage liver failure. Despite knowing the prognosis of such a debilitating disease, the results still hit me as if I’d been run over by a train.
The car ride home was silent, both of us trying to process everything that was said and unsaid. When we pulled up in our driveway, Nikita was waiting for her best friend, arms stretched wide to give comfort and warmth I just couldn’t provide at that moment.
I wanted to escape my grief, to run away from the misery and heartache that drowned me beneath its crushing weight, if only for a moment.
I left the two friends and entered my secluded shed in the backyard, where I was restoring a 1969 Ford Mustang. It was my haven, the place I went when I wanted to forget about the world. And as time slipped away, that’s what I did.
Hours later, a knock sounded from the entrance, pulling me out from beneath the car hood.
“She’s asleep,” Nikita said as she entered, her tired features slanted down in weariness.
I cleared my throat, so as not to choke on my shame. I should have put my wife to bed, but instead, I left her care to that woman. Nikita was a godsend to my wife, to our family, propping us up in whatever way she could, never asking for anything in return.
“Thank you, Nikita. Truly. I don’t know what we would do without you.”
She tsked, pressing forward, gaze roaming over my car. “This is coming along nicely. You’ve made some adjustments,” she said, pointing to the newly installed radio.
I shrugged, slipping into the driver’s seat, my hand sweeping towards the passenger side in invitation, which she accepted.
“Progress is slow,” I muttered. “But it eases my mind…”
That’s when the atmosphere shifted, Nikita’s piercing green gaze seeing everything I didn’t want her to see. “How are you really, Will? Today was brutal.”
“For Beth—”
“For you both,” she interrupted, pressing her hand on my thigh for comfort.
Unwilling and unwanted, tears began to run down my face.
I shouldn’t have needed recognition. I didn’t deserve sympathy. Beth was the one who had to take on the worst of it. But I couldn’t deny the relief that blossomed from the mere fact that someone—anyone—had acknowledged my pain, too.
As I tried to regain control of myself and detangle my emotional mind, I’d already missed the cues until it was too late.
Blood and heat rushed between my legs as my shaft steadily hardened under the rhythmic pressure of Nikita’s hand rubbing over the zipper of my jeans.
I was frozen, completely caught off guard, where my bodily instincts naturally took over.
My groin unintentionally twitched forward, seeking the pleasure I hadn’t experienced in months. This is wrong, so fucking wrong.
As my brain melted within my skull, my last preservation had my fingers gripping onto the steering wheel. With my eyes tightly shut, I finally gritted out, “We can’t do this. We can’t fucking do this.”
“I just want to take care of you. It doesn’t have to be anything, William. You’ve been so strong for everyone else. Just let me take care of you this once.”
And with a minute nod of my head, I let her take care of me with her steady hands. Except that one lie soon turned into a web of reoccurring betrayals.
Despite the guilt that plagued my every waking moment, whenever Beth had a health scare and I was out of my mind with fear, Nikita was there—to support her best friend, but also me. With her palm, her mouth and eventually, with sex.
Although our trysts were always emotionally charged and driven, our affair had gotten out of hand and progressed for eight months. I was in downright denial, right up until I was caught red-handed by my son.
How did I explain to him that it was nothing? That what he had witnessed was only a physical stress release for us both? That I cared for Nikita as a friend and nothing more?
Although it was hard to reconcile, I wasn’t lying to Colton when I said his mother was the truest love of my life. Bethany would forever remain so. Despite my faithless acts, despite my deepest regrets of betraying our marriage in her final days.
How do I live with myself? Why should I bother?
My miserable inner monologue was interrupted by someone barging into my room, quickly followed by the curtains being ripped open, my eyes burning from the blinding sun.
“You’ve wallowed long enough. You’re going to kill yourself,” Nikita snapped, picking up all the clothes thrown on the floor.
“Get out.”
“No.”
I bolted upright, my swollen eyes boring into her with loathing. “GET OUT!” I roared.
“NO! I’m not leaving you alone in this, Will.”
“I don’t want you!” I want my wife. I want my son.
“I know,” she said with a sigh. Then she went straight for my jugular. “But she isn’t here. He isn’t here. I’m all you’ve got left.”
Her words were like spikes that pierced directly into my chest.
Nikita had been a mere distraction—one that cost me everything. And yet she only spoke the truth.