Chapter 3 #4
His fingers twitched. He ran a hand over his face. “What the fuck have I done” he screamed.
Everything in the room suddenly looked obscene. The couch where he’d lost control. The lipstick smudged on his collar. The faint smell of Rachel’s perfume still hanging in the air like a stain.
It all reeked of guilt now.
He paced. Then stopped.
Then paced again.
His chest felt tight. Not from panic. From the reality settling in like cold water: Kylee was gone. And she didn’t cry. She didn’t plead. She didn’t scream. She just left. That was worse.
He grabbed the edge of his desk and leaned over it, trying to breathe through the pressure building behind his ribs. His gaze fell on the framed photo beside his tablet that fucking photo Kylee holding Kayla on her hip, Jake Jr. hugging her leg, Macy mid-laugh in her arms.
His family. His entire world. He turned the frame face down. This wasn’t just about Rachel. Not anymore. This was about what he’d broken. And deep down, he knew: there was no good version of this story now. No clean confession. No neat apology.
Kylee had looked at him like she didn’t know him. Maybe he didn’t know himself either.
Lillian had taken the kids for a walk, leaving the house warm and still. Kylee didn’t move. She didn’t drop her purse. She didn’t kick off her boots. She just stood there.Like if she stayed still enough, time might rewind.
But it didn’t.
The scent of baby lotion still hung in the air, mingling with the faint trace of whatever aftershave Jake had worn this morning. She’d kissed his cheek when he left. Smiled at him. Told him good luck with his day.
Her stomach turned.
She walked into the kitchen, her footsteps light against the tile. Her eyes drifted over the half-dried sippy cups in the sink, the grocery list stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a football. Jake Jr.’s cleats sat by the door a little muddy. She didn’t care, she couldn’t care.
She gripped the edge of the counter with both hands, breathing hard through her nose.
Don’t cry.
She didn’t want to cry.
Crying made it real. Crying made it stick.
But the pressure was too much. The image of Jakes dick inside of Rachel, his face frozen in shame played on repeat like a loop in her mind.
A sob slipped out. Then another. And then her whole body folded, bent under the weight of it all.
She sank to the floor beside the island, her fingers pressed to her mouth to muffle the sound.
Her chest heaved, her shoulders shaking as every ounce of betrayal came pouring out of her in broken, shuddering gasps.
This wasn’t supposed to be her story. She was the wife. The mother. The one who held it all together.
She had given Jake everything! Her heart. Her body. Her faith. She moved across the country, carried his children, and stayed quiet when he pulled away. And still, she wasn’t enough.
She sobbed until her voice cracked. Until the only thing left was silence. And in that silence, she realized something: this moment wasn’t just grief. It wasn’t just heartbreak.
It was a turning point.
Something inside her had broken yes but something else had awakened.
She didn’t know what would come next. But she knew this: she’d never beg for love again.
The sound of the front door opening snapped Kylee upright.
She quickly wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater, sniffed, and smoothed her hair as if that could erase the emotional wreckage she’d just left on the kitchen floor. Her heart was still racing, her throat raw from crying but she stood. Because she had to.
“Mama!” Macy’s voice was high and bright as she bounded into the room with a sticky juice cup in hand. “Lillian let us feed ducks!”
Kylee turned, instantly pasting on a smile. “Yeah? That sounds like so much fun!”
Lillian followed close behind with Kayla in her arms, the baby softly babbling, cheeks flushed from the chill outside. Jake Jr. was last, hoodie unzipped and football in hand, tossing it up and catching it without looking.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, casual and cool.
“Hey, baby,” she said, reaching to kiss the top of his head. Her voice stayed calm, steady.
Lillian gave Kylee a soft look, sensing something, but didn’t ask.
“She was a total angel,” she said, handing Kayla over. “They all were.”
“Thank you,” Kylee replied, her tone practiced and warm. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“No problem at all.” Lillian smiled and gave Macy a little wave. “You guys behave for Mama, okay?”
The door clicked shut again, and just like that she was alone with them. Her babies.
Jake Jr. plopped down on the couch and switched on his game controller. Macy dug through her bin of toys, already begging for snacks. Kayla rested her head on Kylee’s shoulder, tiny fingers tangled in the strands of her hair.
The warmth of them made it harder to breathe.Not because they were the problem. But because she was the only thing standing between them and the truth.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked back the burn in her eyes, and moved through the motions. Wiping faces. Heating leftovers. Fixing crayons. Straightening couch cushions. Cleaning fingerprints from the fridge.
She laughed when they laughed.She answered questions like normal.
When Jake Jr. asked if Daddy was going to be late again, she smiled and said, “Probably just busy at work.” Then she tucked them in, kissed their foreheads, and turned off the lights. It wasn’t until the house was quiet again that she let her smile drop.
Kylee was seated on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, a throw blanket draped over her lap. The television was on but muted some romance show she wasn’t watching. Her face was bare now, makeup washed away, eyes still a red despite her best efforts.
Jake stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He hesitated in the entryway like he didn’t know if he still belonged there.
His gaze found her instantly, but she didn’t look up.
"Hey," he said, voice soft. Careful.
"Sup," she replied, just as soft. Just as distant.
He took off his coat and hung it on the hook by the door. Loosened his collar. Set his keys on the counter. Every move was measured. Like walking through a minefield he had personally built.
Kylee didn’t flinch. Didn’t ask why he was late or why he looked like a man who had lost something vital on the drive home. She just stared ahead at the silent screen.
Jake walked further into the room, the hardwood creaking slightly under his weight.
“The kids got to bed okay?” he asked, clearing his throat.
She nodded. “Jake Jr. asked if you were going to be late again.”
He winced, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it.
He sat on the opposite end of the couch not close, not far. Just within arm’s reach… but she didn’t reach.
“You didn’t call on your way home,” she said quietly.
He opened his mouth, closed it, and then tried again. “I figured… after earlier… you wouldn’t want to talk.”
Her head tilted slightly, a humorless smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “That was smart.”
Silence….It filled the space between them like fog.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he offered.
She finally looked at him then not with anger, not even pain.
Just pure exhaustion.
“Jake, you didn’t just hurt me. You broke me!”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, as if the right words might come tumbling out with the motion. They didn’t.
She stood slowly, pulling the blanket from her lap “I’m not going to yell,” she said. “I’m not going to cry. I did that already.”
He looked up at her, regret thick in his eyes.
“I’m going to bed,” she added.
“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asked, almost desperate.
“Sure,” she said, voice firm now. “But don’t confuse that with forgiveness.”
Then she turned, leaving him alone on the couch with nothing but his guilt, the echo of her quiet strength, and the sound of a muted TV still playing in the background.
She moved through her usual motions the next morning, slipping out of bed quietly, showering, and dressing. But something was different. Her energy wasn’t happy or maternal. It was exhausted.
She made breakfast for the kids, packed Jake Jr.’s lunch, refilled bottles, and laid out Macy’s outfit.
But Jake’s lunch bag sat untouched on the counter. No leftovers packed. No second cup of coffee waiting for him beside the to-go mug.
Jake came down the stairs around 6:45 am, buttoning his shirt, his tie slightly crooked a rare imperfection. He paused when he saw her in the kitchen, her back to him as she stirred oatmeal on the stove.
“Mornin’,” he said carefully. A beat passed. “No coffee for me?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
She finally turned, eyes cool but unreadable. “Didn’t know if you’d be eating at work again.”
Jake swallowed hard. He wanted to say something but he didn’t. The kids were already at the table, Macy humming to herself and Jake Jr. reading the back of a cereal box.
He kissed the kids goodbye. Kylee turned away before he got to her. He left without touching her.
Jake arrived at Waterman Aesthetic Surgery late this morning. He thought long and hard on his way to the office. He walked through the hallway with his shoulders set, mind heavy, guilt pressing at his ribs like a vice.
Rachel was already behind the front desk, wearing a blush-colored blouse that was too tight and a skirt that hit too high on her thigh. Her smile was ready the moment he stepped in.
“Morning, Dr. Waterman,” she said brightly, tucking a strand of her hair behind one ear. “You look well rested.”
He didn’t smile back. “Morning.”
She stood, smoothing her skirt. “I put the files on your desk. Also, I brought muffins. I remembered you liked blueberry. Want me to bring one back to your office?”
He paused, finally looking at her. His expression was unreadable, but the warmth from yesterday was gone.
“No. I’m good.”
Rachel tilted her head, her voice softening into a teasing purr. “You sure? You seemed kind of… stressed. I just thought maybe you could use a little sweet to start your day.”