Fractured Affections (The Affections Series Book 1) (5 page)

My voice trembles. “How does it look? Please tell me a couple stitches will do. It feels like it may be worse than that.”

He rewraps my hand in the towel, “You definitely need to go see a doctor and get some stitches.” His eyes rise to mine. “Do you want me to find Dalton?”

It’s just my finger and I really could just drive myself. Someone has to stay back with the boys. Dalton will not be happy with that though, he will want to take me. Right now, I just need to be alone.

“Listen, it’s just my finger and on my left hand. I can drive myself. Are you able to cook still? Cause all the boys need to eat and Dalton had a long day. I don’t want him sitting in an ER all night. I would rather he rest.”

Moving through the kitchen, I gather my purse and head to the door. After slipping on my shoes, I make my way outside and to the car. I couldn’t even wait for Striker to respond. My head is in such a haze after everything that has happened today. After pulling onto the main road, my emotions take over and warm tears travel down my face. The throbbing in my hand pulls my attention away from the pain in my chest. Focusing on the physical pain helps to get myself together enough, and I make it safely to the hospital.

The vibration of my phone in my purse distracts me as I enter the ER. While trying to ignore it, I sign in then have a seat. It feels good to be out of the house alone. Even under the circumstance of cutting my finger halfway off, I’m relieved. I take a seat in the waiting area after registering and focus on my breathing. For the first time today, I feel myself begin to relax, and realize that maybe it’s a good thing he’s leaving. I don’t know how to get over his lies. Time and distance may be the best thing for me.

Chapter Six

Reagan

I arrive home hours later. The house is dark and everyone is in bed, which I’m very thankful for. I just need one night of rest before I face anyone. Hopefully Dalton is asleep, since it’s pushing close to midnight. He was not happy when I finally texted him to say I wanted to be alone, while I handled getting my finger fixed up. They fixed it as best they could, but it looks like I did a number on it and may need surgery to have it repaired. The cut was deeper than I thought, and I hit a tendon. No more sharp knives for me when I’m distracted.

After removing my coat and shoes, I head up to my room, which seems dark and quiet also. I sigh in relief. I’m not sure how long it will take me to want to face Dalt again. The more I sat in the hospital, the angrier I became. I don’t want to be angry with him, especially if he’ll be leaving for awhile.

I walk quietly into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I stare at my left hand for a moment, wondering how I will be able to wash my face without getting my hand wet. It’s too late for this, so I only brush my teeth and head out to my room. Slowly I slip into my pajamas and slide into bed. I’m completely exhausted after today, so I snuggle into my covers and close my eyes.

“How did it go?” Dalton whispers into the night, startling me.

“Ah, you scared me, I thought you were asleep.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean too. Is your hand okay? Striker said it was pretty bad.”

The mention of Striker gives me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know come morning I will have to face him again, and I don’t think I’m ready for that.

“Well, they fixed me up as best they can, but I need to follow up with an orthopedic doctor tomorrow, if possible. They think I cut a tendon, which will require surgery to repair. I don’t have the amount of mobility in the joint that the doctor thinks I should.”

He reaches over and places his hand on my hip. I would love to just roll over and spoon with him for the comfort, right now, but at the same time I want to roll away from him because of the betrayal I feel, knowing he lied.

“I hope that it won’t require surgery, though. I’ll call and see who I can get in with after I get the boys off to school.” I lean forward and kiss his forehead. “Goodnight, Dalt, see you in the morning.”

I hear him exhale roughly through his nose before he responds, “Yeah, goodnight, my sweet Rea. I love you more than I have ever loved anything. See you in the morning.”

I roll over and feel his hand slip away. I’m so torn. We never sleep apart; he is always holding or touching me in some way. The distance feels so great right now. I have never felt like this before with him, but after finding out he has kept something from me for seven years, I can’t help but think I never had all of him. It’s worse when you thought you did. When you thought that your husband shared everything with you: all his dreams and all his secrets.

I wonder who else knows. Our families must, considering Striker has been living in town with all of them. God, I must look like such a joke to everyone. I know I don’t see them often, but not once has anyone mentioned seeing Striker, let alone living near him. What is wrong with my mother? Why wouldn’t she mention anything? The feeling of betrayal just keeps getting worse. I know deep down they have all been keeping this from me, but why? What is the point of this secret?

I’m starting to feel alone with all of these thoughts. Getting lonely sends me to a bad place. A place that I have not been in years, thanks to Dalton, but now he has also made me feel the pain of abandonment. I have been rejected by everyone in my life so far, except for my children, but I’m sure their day will come. They will grow up and want a family of their own, but I expect that to happen. I want that for them. Where will that leave me though?

I still can’t begin to comprehend the fact that Dalton is leaving. What if he enjoys his time away? I think that maybe his reason for leaving could be for space. I’m not sure I can really blame him. I can be needy at times, but I always thought he loved to take care of me.

Listen to me. This is Dalton. He is a good man. Pure. Loves deep. How could I question his feelings for me, after the life we have lived together? The love and patience he showed me, when we first got married, should be proof enough that he loves me fiercely. He waited for me for a long time and never tried push me in one direction or another. Only true love stands back and waits. Only true love let’s you make your own decisions.

He let me choose him. He loved me every day, unconditionally. I don’t think I ever had that before. I was young when my father left, but I don’t remember him to be an affectionate person. I can remember my mother getting mad and constantly hounding him about the fact that he didn’t spend time with me. After every argument, he would take me for ice cream. We would sit at the tables outside of the store, just like most people did. We weren’t most people though. We very rarely talked.

It’s funny that after he left, I was lonely and longed for him to return. Looking back now, I don’t think I ever really had a father. My mother has never let go enough to allow another man to enter her life. Maybe that’s why I clung to Dalton and Striker from the moment we met.

I would like to think, that over time, I have changed. That I have become stronger and more independent, but after the events of today, I feel like I have not moved forward at all. Hopefully tomorrow will bring a new light, and I can let go of these toxic thoughts. Once I have a good night’s sleep, we can talk more and Dalton can calm my fears.

It takes a while, but I eventually fade into a peaceful rest.

*****

The next morning I wake wrapped in Dalton’s arms. When I roll over I am met with his blue eyes staring intently into mine.

“Reagan, I know we had a hard day yesterday, but I hope you know how much I love you and that my being away from you will hurt me, too. I need you just as much as you need me. Please do not believe, for one minute, that I want to leave. I just feel in my heart that this is the best decision for our family. I hope that you will forgive me for keeping things from you, all these years. I know how wrong it was, but the more time that went by the harder it was to tell you, so I just gave up on it. Looking back now, I should have told you from the get go. I was just afraid that you would change your mind about us.”

I feel a little better after waking up so close to him. I know he is being genuine, and I hate to argue with him. I already knew that it had to have been fear that kept him from telling me about his decisions regarding Striker. How can I really be angry? His fear is valid. I know he also loves Striker and wants a good life for him too. I can’t spend our last week before he leaves, arguing over this.

“I know, Dalt, I forgive you. I don’t want to spend this next week upset with you. I want to make the best of it. My heart will break a little when you leave. I just want to soak up as much of you as I can before then. I can adjust, I promise. As long as I hear your voice every day, then I will be okay.”

I reach up and rest the palm of my hand along his scruffy jaw. This is my favorite look on him. I trail my fingers along his jaw from his ear to his lips and a small smile spreads across my face.

“How could I be mad at you for long? I love you too much.”

Dalton turns his head and places a kiss on my palm, then grabs my face between his strong hands. The skin of his fingers is rough from all the years of hard work. I close my eyes to brand this moment in my brain and feel the soft but firm kiss he places on my forehead. At this moment, I know the subject of Striker and his ownership of the business is closed. I have to forgive him. What good will come over me being angry about something neither one of us can change. Knowing that if he could go back and change things he would, is good enough for me. It took me a lot of money and many visits to a psychiatrist to learn that I can choose happiness. I just have to let myself.

Dalton’s hands begin to lower to my neck and our lips meet. Just as the kiss intensifies there is a loud knock at the door.

“MOM!” knock, knock, knock, “are you coming to make us breakfast?” Colt asks through the door, and there is the mood killer.

I flop onto my back and let out a huff before climbing from our bed and out of Dalton’s arms, to tend to mommy duties. This is the story of my life.

“Coming!”

Chapter Seven

Reagan

Dalton has been gone two days now, two very long days. The week before he left went by very quickly. We spent as much time together as we could, but he still had to transition Striker and bring him up to speed on running his business. That was the only time I saw Striker, actually. He was pretty good with making himself disappear, unless Dalton needed him. I would hear him coming through the door after everyone was in bed, and he would sleep well past breakfast. He’s still pretty absent at the house, unless he’s doing office work.

The boys and I are going through our normal routine; trying to talk to Dalton as much as time allows. He seems pretty busy, which only allows time for a quick text message but he always responds. The boys look forward to their nightly calls from him. I know it makes them feel better since they miss Dalton already.

Sleeping has been difficult. Our king size bed feels so empty and cold, but I try to ignore my loneliness and stay strong for the boys. I think with Dalton being gone, the weekends will turn into sleepover nights in Mom’s bed, just to give them something to look forward to. Plus, Dylan is taking over the roll as man of the house, which he is quite fond of. Just last night, I overheard him talking to Dalton about making sure that the dogs are cared for, that his brothers behave, and that I pay the bills on time. That kid makes me laugh. He is always Mister Responsible and is the one who aspires to be the most like his father.

It’s getting late, and the boys are all winding down in the living room with a movie, so I decide to get some laundry done. I head upstairs to gather all the laundry from the hamper and drag it to the laundry room. While I am sorting out the colors, I hear someone clear their throat.

When I turn around, I find Striker leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh hey, Striker, how are things going? I haven’t really seen you. Are you sleeping alright in the guest room?”

I know he can see straight through my pleasantries to how uncomfortable I am in his presence, by the way he responds with a lift of his eyebrows.

“Well, Reagan, would you like to ask me about the weather as well? My sleeping arrangements are fine. What’s not fine is the fact that you are so uncomfortable around me. How do we fix this, Rea?  Cause I don’t know how.”

I stop what I’m doing and look up at him with a frown on my face. “I really don’t know how to get there, either. Sorry. I know that you may be here for a while, and you’re staying in our home, but it’s been so long.”

“Could we start by me taking you out for breakfast one day? We could catch up and try to find some even ground. Maybe we could learn to be friends again.”

I slowly shake my head and return my attention to the laundry, “I’m not sure about that. How about we just start with a cup of coffee in the morning, after I get the boys off to school?”

“Sure, Rea, a cup of coffee sounds great. See you in the morning,” he responds before exiting the laundry room.

His response is filled with disappointment, but I can’t commit to anything more than that. Being alone with him makes me nervous, so coffee is a safer bet. If we stay home, I can find some reason to escape if I get too uncomfortable. If we go to lunch, then I would be stuck with him in public. I don’t know how I will react to what he might say.

God, why do we even need to be friends? Can’t we just keep things strictly business, since that is the reason why he is here? Dalton will finish his job in Texas and return home. Striker will probably be begging to leave town by that point. Living with three boys and a worn out mom is not easy. I don’t even want to live with myself some days. I sure as hell am not the Reagan that he remembers me to be. Life is a hell of a lot different now. Responsibility will do that to you.