Chapter 4
Rain
The four of us are settled in the living room. Cody rests against the plush cushions, his injured leg elevated on a mound of pillows and his crutches propping up the side of the sofa.
The television glows with the bright, familiar animation of Tangled. Rose won the raffle game this afternoon, earning her the right to pick the movie, so we are all gathered to watch it together.
I finish setting up the snacks, creating a cozy perimeter for our movie afternoon.
I hesitate at the edge of the rug. The thought of invading his space on the couch makes my hands freeze over the popcorn bowl.
Remembering our conversation from this morning, I push past the discomfort and drop down to the carpet, making myself comfortable near his feet, close to the children.
"Why don't you join me, Rain?"
I look up, my eyebrows raising in a silent question. Where is this sudden hospitality coming from? He tilts his head slightly toward the empty cushion beside him, a silent nudge for me to stop wasting time.
Highly suspicious, hubby, I think to myself.
Regardless, I push off the floor and slide onto the sofa, bringing the large bowl of popcorn with me. As soon as I settle into the cushions, he leans over.
"Strange, isn't it?" his voice is a low murmur.
The warmth of his breath brushes against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a strong shudder straight down my spine. My eyes go wide, and my head snaps toward him. Our gazes lock and I begin to feel nervous, I force out an awkward laugh to break the sudden intensity between us.
"Yeah."
"Well, like I said, I will be here for a while," he whispers, his eyes darting toward the children before returning to mine. "I don't want us to be noticeably awkward around the kids."
I offer a small nod, my voice tight. "That's fair."
He nods in response, then shifts his gaze across the room. "Sam is asleep."
I follow his look. Samuel is curled sideways on his cushion, his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even. We look back at each other, and a genuine, quiet laugh escapes us both.
"How is your leg?" I ask, glad for a safe topic.
"Oh, it is fine," he says, shifting his weight slightly. "It just aches from time to time, but that's normal."
"You sound like you've sprained your ankle a couple of times before."
"Yeah," he murmurs, a small smile appearing. "I was on the football team in college."
"Oh. That is nice."
He turns his head, studying my posture. "What about you? You look like you were on the debate team."
Another chuckle escapes me. "Why would you think that?"
"Well, I just thought... because you're a lawyer?"
"Oh. Well, you're actually right."
"How is Arthur?" he asks, switching gears to my father.
"Well, he is well," I reply, my voice smoothing over the professional boundary. "And if you're asking about the business, it is doing well so far."
"Shh!"
Rose glares at us from the floor, her small finger pressed tightly against her lips. Cody and I exchange a look, our shoulders shaking with quiet amusement.
"Is she shushing us right now?" he whispers.
I press a hand over my mouth to smother a giggle, nodding. "I believe she is, Cody."
Our quiet laughter fades at the exact same moment, leaving a sudden, ringing silence that causes us both to grin and chuckle all over again.
***
By nine o'clock, the living room is quiet.
The kids are deeply asleep. I carry them up to their rooms one by one, tucking the blankets around their shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to each of their foreheads.
Normally, Cody handles the bedtime routine when he is in town, but his crutches make it impossible tonight.
When I walk back downstairs, the bright glow of the overhead chandelier illuminates the room. Cody sits in the exact same spot beneath the light, his eyes fixed on his phone screen.
"Hey," I call out. The ease from our afternoon movie still lingers in my voice, making me feel bolder than usual.
"Hey," he responds, locking his phone and looking up under the bright glare.
I walk over to the couch, leaning my weight against the sturdy armrest opposite him. "It's the first time we've spoken for this long."
"Yeah, it is," he says.
"Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
He looks up, the ceiling lights catching the edges of his jaw. A slow, calm smile touches his lips. "Well, like you already know... I was, or should I say I am, in love with someone else."
The admission hits me like a physical blow. The air leaves my lungs in a quiet gasp, and my pulse slows to a heavy, agonizing throb. It feels as though a blade has been driven straight between my chest, twisting with his honesty.
"Oh," I choke out, my throat tight and dry. "You're still in love with her?"
He gives a slow, calm nod. "Hmm." He says it casually, as if stating a simple fact about the weather. "She was my best friend from childhood. Then we turned into lovers." He pauses, his gaze drifting across the brightly lit room. "Then the marriage thing came up. And she had a marriage thing, too."
I nod along, though my head suddenly feels far too heavy for my neck to support. The weight of his history presses down on my shoulders.
"So, I guess... not being intimate with you felt like me being loyal to her," he adds.
The words shatter whatever fragile hope I had spent the day building. A painful crack echoes in my chest. I swallow the taste of copper and bitterness, forcing myself to push through the agony.
"But you... the kids," I whisper, my hands trembling as I grip the armrest. "We had sex. Remember?"
A low laugh escapes him. "Yeah, we did. I spoke to her about it."
My heart drops straight through the floor, leaving a hollow, freezing void in my stomach. I stare at him, my vision blurring under the harsh lights.
"Wait," I say, my voice cracking under the weight of the realization. "So, you are married to someone. And before you get intimate with your wife, you let someone else's wife know?"
He looks up at me, his expression perfectly serene, untroubled by the cruelty of his words. "She is my love. My first love. And we both know that our marriages..."
He trails off, but he does not need to finish the sentence.
A single, hot tear escapes my eye, tracing a wet path down my cheek before I can wipe it away. The unspoken truth hangs in the air between us: our marriage is nothing but a temporary inconvenience to him.
"Uh... goodnight, Cody."
I turn on my heel, barely managing a weak wave as I exit the living room. On my way past the wall, my hand smacks the light switch, plunging the entire downstairs into pitch blackness. Let him sit in the dark, I think bitterly.
"Thank you. The light was becoming a bother," his voice carries calmly up the hallway.
I let out an angry, ragged huff, my bare feet slamming hard against the wooden steps as I flee up the stairs.