Finding Infinity (35 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Charlie

Jenna Sanchez the longtime friend of Colin McKinney, has confirmed that it was her, Colin McKinney, and Doctor Caroline Collins at the Magnolia Hotel. She refuses to comment on whether or not her and McKinney are involved in a relationship. Photographers caught Jenna arriving at the hotel followed, about an hour later, by McKinney. Doctor Collins arrived approximately fifteen minutes after that. Sources close to CharCol have confirmed that they have hit a speed bump in their relationship. Can they work it out, for the sake of their baby? Only time will tell.

“Do you have another bottle of wine?” Julie asks.

“Yeah, honey. Look in the wine refrigerator in the kitchen. There should be more. If we’re out, add it to the grocery list. I also need sprinkles for the sugar cookies,” I call over my shoulder.

“Does Colin care which rooms we take?” my mom yells from upstairs.

“I think Aiden’s already staying in the one at the top of the stairs. Take any other room that you want,” I yell back.

Christmas music is playing through the speakers all over the house. I quietly sing “Jingle Bells” while I arrange the gifts under the tree. You can definitely tell which gifts Colin wrapped, but Christmas is about family, and not who does the prettiest wrapping job.

“When will Colin be back?” Chelsea asks, as she straightens a bow on a big green box.

“He had to get x-rays on his leg so I’m not sure. Aiden took him.”

Chelsea whispers, just so I can hear, “We’ve all seen the pics. Is everything okay?”

I plaster my best smile on my face. “Misunderstanding.”

Chelsea nods, and keeps straightening the bow. “You know if you ever need anything, we’ve all got your back.”

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings. I jump up to answer it. Susan and John are standing there, with their arms full of gifts. I greet them, and quickly summon my sisters to help me carry their things inside.

“The Christmas lights look great on the new oak trees,” John compliments.

I smile. “Thanks. Colin paid one of the security guys to put them up today. He’s awfully proud of his trees.”

Colin’s parents are pleasant enough. Susan even gives me an attempt at a hug. John’s is more sincere. Of course, their first question is, where is Colin. I explain, and direct them to take their overnight bags upstairs.

Our home is filled with family chaos, and I love it. My mom adds to the grocery list of items that I’m missing that we’ll need for Christmas dinner. Colin’s family has a tradition of making Christmas Eve gumbo. When Susan comes downstairs, she joins my mom and sisters in the kitchen to see what she needs to purchase to prepare it.

I put John to work assembling bicycles. Colin and I bought bikes and helmets for all the kids of the security guys who’ve been so incredible to us these last couple of months. I’d made a list of the kids and their ages. Colin spent more time then he should have meticulously researching what were the best bikes for each age. Then, he’d ordered them, and had them shipped to our house. Tonight, we’re going to load up Big Bertha and deliver them to all the kid’s houses. Who knows? We might decide to do a little Christmas caroling.

When the grocery list is complete, my mom, Susan, and Amy head to the grocery store. Chelsea and Julie have a couple of last-minute gifts to purchase, so off to the mall they go.

I make sure that John is okay before I slip off to the hospital to check on my patients. I swing by Brad’s home and pick him up. He’s really done a great job with the place. It’s a track home and looks like everyone else’s, but Brad’s added his own homey touches. He changed the outdoor lighting to gas lanterns. He painted his front door a beautiful shade of green, that Sarah suggested. He keeps seasonal flowers in his yard.

I watch him bound out of the house in a Santa hat, a T-shirt that says, “Dear Santa, I’ve been naughty,” red suspenders, and blue jeans. His auburn red hair clashes terribly with the hat, but he makes me smile.

“Those don’t look like scrubs,” I say, as he opens my passenger door.

“Just because you choose to not have any Christmas spirit doesn’t mean that you can douse mine,” he quips.

Then, he changes my music to the local station that’s switched from country music to all Christmas, but he turns the volume to low. “Everything forgiven with QueBee?”

There’s no easy way to answer that question. “He’s sorry. He promises to never lie to me again. I’m still hurt, but less hurt than yesterday. I said some stuff that hurt him. As they say, my dear, time heals all wounds.” As I talk, I glance at my wedding ring. I love Colin. Tremendously. I also miss him. We haven’t made love in over five days, and we had to be abstinent for three days before Colin’s test. Then, with everything that’s happened, I haven’t wanted him to touch me. I long for our physical connection again.

“So, y’all are playing nice for Santa?” he says, as he fidgets with my phone charger.

“I don’t think that we’re necessarily pretending to be something that we’re not. I just think we’re being. Does that make sense?” I flip the turn signal and enter the freeway.

“I guess. So, let me tell you about this guy I met last night at the gym. His name is Marco, and he’s a hot slab of manliness.”

“What happened to Carter?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s still in the picture, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t make new friends.” He places a lot of emphasis on the word “new.”

The rest of the drive to the hospital is filled with Brad regaling me with stories about his new gym buddy. I’m thankful for the distraction, and to just get to listen for a few minutes.

When I pull into the hospital parking lot, I see the media vultures waiting for me.
Really? It’s Christmas Eve. Don’t you have something better to do?
Thing One and Thing Two meet me at my car, and suggest that they drop me off at the entrance.

I roll my eyes. I’ll just suck it up and deal. Brad opens my car’s vanity mirror, checks his teeth and makes sure that he doesn’t have anything in his nose before we walk in. I no longer care how I look.

I’m rushed, as soon as I’m spotted. Brad holds my hand, and the security guards flank us on the left and right sides. The questions are as expected.

“Did you know about the affair?”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Are you separated?”

“When is the baby due?”

“Where’s Colin living?”

“Is he using again?”

I keep my head down, and do my best to ignore them. There’s a little part of me that still believes that if I never give them a comment, they’ll eventually go away. It seems either they’re slow learners, or tenacious. Nonetheless, it’s gotten very old.

Then I hear a male voice above all the others. “Once a playboy always a playboy.”

I feel my blood pressure rise to stroke level. I’ve played nice with the media. I’ve kept my head down, and not given a comment for the past nine months. I’ve let them say terrible, hurtful things about me and my husband. I’ve never responded. I’ve practiced the turn the other cheek method—well, except for when Colin was sick—and look where it’s gotten me. I’m being hounded by the media, on Christmas Eve, at my place of employment.

That’s when I pick my head up and stop walking. Brad tries to drag me, but I plant my feet. The security team stops, and they get looks on their faces, knowing that I’m about to do something that will probably result in Colin being furious.

It’s time to prove to Colin that I heard his speech this morning about questioning his motivation regarding our marriage. I take a deep breath, and tuck my hair behind my ears before I speak. “It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m on the way into the hospital that I work at to take care of my sick patients, who would rather be spending the holidays at home than stuck here. Do you have no dignity?

“You were set up by Miss Sanchez. I assure you that the only person Colin is committed to is me. Go home to your families. Take a day off from harassing us. I know that your sensational stories make you money, and I’m not going to deny you the right to earn a living. However, let me remind you that we are people, also. I can’t help that I’m in love with someone who is a public figure, any more than Colin can help that he has a talent that makes him that celebrity. None of that means that we deserve to be hounded by you, have lies printed about our relationship, or have you show up at my place of employment, hoping for a story. There is no story.

“So, you want a statement from me? Here’s my statement.” I pause, and make sure that I look directly at the largest camera. “Colin is healing well, and following doctor’s orders. In my professional opinion, he will be the starting quarterback for Dallas next season. We both deny that Colin is having an affair. Our relationship is as strong as ever. I wish you all a happy holiday season.”

I turn and continue walking toward the hospital entrance. The paparazzi is chasing after me, asking me more questions.

“Can you confirm that you and Colin are married?”

“Are you going to sue Jenna?”

“Are Jenna and Colin still seeing each other?”

They’re smart enough to know that they can’t step foot within a certain distance of the hospital, so I’m relatively safe inside. I pretend as if nothing is out of the ordinary when I walk through the automatic doors, although it’s hard to miss the staff and patients who are staring at me.
Yup! This is my life. The one that I chose
.

Brad and I begin making our rounds.

* * * *

I walk into the craziness of my home. Everyone is back from running their errands, and barely notice when I slip in the door. I greet them, but excuse myself to shower. I don’t want anyone getting sick over Christmas.

I shut my bedroom door behind me, and am startled when Colin says hello.

“Why aren’t you with the mayhem?” I begin to undress in front of him, because it feels so natural to not hide my body from my husband.

I hear the sharp intake of breath from him when I remove my top. He ignores my question. “I got my walking boot today. A week early.”

“No more crutches?”

“Gone.
Finito
.” He stands up and walks toward me, as if to prove his point.

When he gets close enough to touch me, he tentatively reaches out a hand and gently tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. He’s gauging my reaction, to see if I’m going to flinch away from him. I don’t. We stand there staring at each other, my lavender into his green.

“I saw your impromptu press conference,” he says, in a level voice, not giving me any idea what he thought about it.

“I couldn’t keep my head ducked any longer. I know that I just added fuel to fire, and they’re going to pursue me even more, but I couldn’t keep my mouth shut for another minute.” I pause for a second, and add, “Especially when they questioned your commitment to me.”

His green eyes twinkle in a way that reassures me that he gets it. “I wish that you hadn’t,” he says.

“I know.” I sigh, not breaking our eye contact. “But I couldn’t let the world not hear me defend you. You were stupid, and went behind my back to see Jenna. You presented them with a story about us on a silver platter, but you did not break our marriage vows.”

Colin places his large hands on my shoulders and squeezes them. “Do you think that anyone believes that I didn’t cheat on you?” His gentle, upturned lips tell me that it’s more of a rhetorical question.

“Probably not. I’m sure I look like I’m just the little lady standing by her man, but I did it for you. I want you to know that I never doubted your commitment to me. I’m upset at your poor choices, but that’s something that we can keep between us.” I drop my eyes and look at the floor. “I need a shower. I just got home from the hospital.”

“Can I join you?” Colin asks, timidly.

“Colin, that’s not a good idea. They want you to wear your walking boot as much as possible. You shouldn’t be putting weight on your foot without your …”

He captures my mouth, as he says, “Shut up Caroline.”

I’m still angry and hurt, but none of that seems to matter the longer he kisses me. His hands tangle in my hair, pushing me deeper into this mouth. Our kiss is filled with urgency, passion, tenderness, and love. It’s a Band-Aid that helps repair some of the hurt we’ve caused each other. It reminds me how much he loves me, and how much I deeply love and need him.

He rests his forehead against mine, and he’s panting as if he’s run with me. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please let us be okay again. I need you.”

Tears slip out of my eyes. “I need you too.”

He pulls me to his chest, and holds me tightly against him. “Please say it again.” I hear his heart beating its beautiful rhythm—our rhythm—set to music many years ago.

“I need you, Colin,” I repeat. Then, I finally get it. Even though I can kill my own spiders, get down my own blankets, open my own jars of grape jelly, I need to let Colin do things for me. I need to do a better job of showing him how important he is to me.

I hug him back. “I need you so much, Colin, that it scares me.”

My shower becomes not a necessity anymore when he pushes me gently back on the bed. He’s on top of me, crawling up my body, and I don’t think that he can reach my lips quickly enough. Our family on the other side of the door is forgotten. It’s the two of us, reminding each other how much we need each other. How much we hate being angry and hurt. It’s me letting Colin take charge, and have his way with me.

I don’t direct him, or urge him to go faster or slower. I don’t massage my clit when he’s not letting me reach my orgasm quickly enough. I hand him total control over my body—and emotions. I can tell by his orgasm that this is what he needs. Truth be told, I don’t have any complaints myself.

* * * *

Colin is asleep in our bedroom. Since our fight began I haven’t slept much, but I don’t think he’s slept at all. After he found his final release, he literally collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep. I wrapped him in our duvet, and let my gently snoring husband take a nap.