The Dance (18 page)

Read The Dance Online

Authors: Alison G. Bailey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Sagas, #Women's Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: The Dance
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My legs were like jello and about to give way when I felt my feet come off the ground. Will’s large hands had made their way down to my ass. As he lifted me effortlessly, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked toward the house. We didn’t say a word. We didn’t even come up for air. Once inside Will broke the kiss, lowering me to the floor. Within seconds the top of my bathing suit was ripped from my chest, replaced with Will’s mouth. He was like a crazed animal sucking the life out of me. It felt incredible having his hands and mouth all over my body.

Will yanked on the two tiny strings that held the bottom half of my bathing suit together. The skimpy material fell to the floor. He quickly stepped out of his board shorts, pushed me down onto our tan soft leather sofa, and fell between my legs. With his head buried in the crook of my neck, his hips rocked. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the feel of his naked skin gliding across mine. My muscles tensed as my legs tightened around his hips. Grabbing hold of his dick, he pushed inside of me.

Our body heat began to overwhelm me. My lungs struggled for oxygen. I tried to shift and turn my head to get some air but Will’s weight had me pinned down. Underneath me the leather was hot and sticky. Above me Will was hot and sticky. He lifted his body off of mine as his thrusts got harder and faster. It had been a long time since I’d been in this position. With the amount of wine I’d consumed, my memory could have been playing tricks on me. But the sensation of Will inside me felt foreign and strange.

I needed to look into his familiar dark brown eyes and see some semblance of the connection I thought we once shared. What we had couldn’t all have been an act. My gaze traveled up his bulging biceps as he hovered over me. Sweat beaded along every inch of his torso. His jaw clenched, causing the veins to strain against his skin. I took in a deep breath and looked up into a pair of tightly shut eyes.

Digging my fingers into his arm, I said, “I need to look in your eyes.”

He groaned and growled in response but never opened his eyes. In an instant, my mind cleared and my senses returned. All the suspicions, broken vows, disdain, and betrayal of the past several months washed over me. No wonder his dick felt strange inside of me. While I was screwing Will, he was screwing someone else in his head.

Placing my palms flat on his chest, I shoved. “Will, stop!”

He ignored my plea.

I slapped his chest and screamed, “Get off!”

He continued pounding into me, his pace relentless. This was all my fault. Even though I had Sophie and my family if I needed them, the isolation I experienced had been festering since losing the baby. Will and I were drifting apart at that point. And even though he was acting, I missed the deep connection, fake or not. I let my loneliness dictate my actions today. Tears seeped out the corner of my eyes as my body reacted instinctively to the sensation of Will exploding inside of me.

 

It was a stupid horrible mistake fueled by alcohol and loneliness. The blame was all mine. After Will collapsed on top of me, I made up the excuse of having to go to the bathroom. Wiggling out from underneath him, I slid off the sofa and ran upstairs to my room. I never went back down to see him and he never came up looking for me.

I was so ashamed that I let things go as far as they did. I sensed something wasn’t right the second Will entered my body. When he wouldn’t open his eyes and look at me, the lightbulb went off in my head. At this point it had become second nature for me to dissect every little aspect of our relationship. As I lay in bed I racked my brain trying to remember if Will ever looked at me during sex. It’s one of those actions that you assume happened but when you start to think on it you can’t be sure. Had he been fantasizing about other women our entire relationship?

Next month marked the one year anniversary of the first stumble in my marriage. Emotionally and physically I felt every second of the twelve months and then some. But logically I marveled at the fact an entire year had already passed. A sizable portion of my life had been spent obsessing over a man who clearly couldn’t care less about me and my feelings. Will appeared to be content with our current arrangement.

“She was more my parents’ idea than mine. Fit the role.”

I was still holding on to the last little thread of hope, wanting to believe that the man I’d been with for ten years wanted to be with me. That he did love me and wanted a future with me. That our entire life together wasn’t simply to please his parents. But as I took a long hard look at the facts the thread unraveled.

There had been times over the course of our relationship in which I felt Will was happy not spending time with me. But then out of the blue he’d do something super sweet and all would be forgotten and forgiven. He went to a couple of counseling sessions but he didn’t take them seriously. He’s not made any move to make amends. He’s stayed holed up in his office or bedroom continuing to contact women with no regard to how it made me feel.

What a slap in the face.

I tossed and tuned most of the night realizing the time had come for this weird living arrangement to end. Will and I had been floating in limbo long enough. For eleven months I’d been wading through so many confusing emotions too scared to pull the trigger on any solid action. I wanted the life I thought I had back. But you can’t have what never really existed.

The next morning I rolled out of bed and slipped my indigo green silk robe over the matching long pajama pants and white T-shirt. I gathered my hair and twisted it into a messy side ponytail before heading downstairs. The scent of coffee drifted out from the kitchen. I knew I hadn’t preprogrammed the Keurig to turn on this morning. Will hadn’t been thoughtful enough when we were “happily” married to have coffee ready for me in the morning so I doubt he’d set it up to turn on. My stomach churned with the only other possibility. Will hadn’t left for work yet.

Shit!

My mind was so preoccupied with my decision that I didn’t even consider looking out the bedroom window to see if his car was still in the driveway. In a way, it was good I didn’t know he was still home. Otherwise, I would have driven myself crazy the entire day planning what to say. This way I’ll just go in there and state very plainly that yesterday was a big mistake. We needed to move on, to legally separate and look into what the divorce process entailed. Beyond that I had no idea what would happen. But I had to move forward even if it was one step at a time.

As I entered the kitchen, I saw Will’s silhouette in front of the large over-the-sink window. As I walked farther in I could tell he was leaning back against the counter drinking his coffee. He stopped mid sip when he caught my gaze.

“Good morning,” he said, lowering his mug just enough to speak.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked past to start my coffee. “I didn’t know you were still home.”

He didn’t respond.

Placing my mug under the spout, I popped the K-cup in and pressed the large button. The air was still and quiet except for the buzz of the machine alternating with Will’s sipping. I stood focusing on the black liquid dripping into the mug. The click of the machine cutting off startled me. I grabbed the mug, walked across the kitchen to the breakfast bar, and sat down on one of the stools. I needed to feel grounded. I took a long sip of coffee before placing the mug in front of me.

Glancing over at Will, I said, “About yesterday . . .”

He pushed off from the counter and put his mug in the sink. “Yeah, about that . . . I’m glad we’re finally getting back on track.”

My eyebrows shot into my forehead as my jaw went slack. “Back on track?”

He walked over and stood on the other side of the bar across from me.

Looking down, he smirked. “I knew once you were done pouting, you’d realize how ridiculous you’ve been.”

There were a whole lot of references to me in his sentence. The muscles in my shoulders tensed. I needed to stay calm and not get emotional.

My grip tightened around the mug. “Let’s get a couple of things straight. I haven’t been pouting and the only thing I’ve realized is we need to start the divorce process.”

He tried to keep his expression neutral but I could see the vein in his forehead was on the verge of throbbing.

Will huffed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Are you kidding me?” I paused, needing to hold my emotions in check. Not wanting to ignite Will’s anger and have this conversation spin out of control, my goal was to keep all statements neutral and non-accusatory. I took in a deep calming breath and continued. “Will, we’ve been having serious issues for a long time. It takes two people to make a marriage work.”

He took a step back from the bar, placing one hand on his hip while the other hand massaged his chin. “Give me one good reason why you want a divorce.”

His complete denial of our situation was mind-blowing. Like flipping a switch on a nuclear reactor, my anger and frustration soared from zero to a hundred and eighty in two point three seconds flat.

“Jesus, man, are you totally delusional? You’ve lied and cheated. You don’t take the counseling seriously and won’t meet me halfway on anything.”

His jaw clenched while the forehead vein was in full throb.

Dark brown eyes pierced mine. “For the last fucking time. I. Did. Not. Cheat. Have I talked to a few women online? Yes. Have I texted? Yes. Have I gone on porn sites? Yes. What guy hasn’t? You act like I’ve gone around shoving my dick in every woman on the east coast.”

Will’s definition of cheating was the polar opposite of mine. And we were both standing firm in our belief. At this point, we’d had this same circular conversation ad nauseam. There was no point in trying to have a mature and civil discussion with this man.

Shoving the stool back, I stood and stomped over to the sink. I turned on the hot water and washed both coffee mugs, giving myself something to do while I calmed my nerves. When I turned back around, Will’s back was to me, both palms flat on the countertop, with his head hanging between his shoulders.

Drying my hands with the dish towel, I said, “Why did you marry me?” I was surprised at how small my voice sounded. Almost childish. “Was it all for your parents?”

His head rose but he didn’t turn to face me. “Nobody forces me to do anything.”

“Then why?”

I heard a deep intake of breath as he hesitated, no doubt wanting to choose his words wisely.

He faced me but didn’t make eye contact. “Because I thought it would be mutually beneficial.”

His words felt like a direct hit to my soul. I thought after what I’d seen and heard from him prior to today I was more immune to the effect of his words. But I guess there were still a few pieces of my heart that hadn’t been shattered.

“Wrong answer,” I whispered.

“What do you want from me, Bryson?!”

“I want you to say you married me because you loved me! Because you couldn’t imagine living a life without me! I want you to be the man I thought you were!” We locked eyes and I saw the true honest answer. “You never were, were you?”

“I’ve always taken good care you.”

“It’s true isn’t it? You married me because your parents wanted you to. I was a good girl who came from a good family. Your mother always said we looked perfect together. Beautiful couple would have beautiful children to carry on the well-respected Forsyth name. We completed the perfect family portrait. And what was your prize, Will? What was so fucking enticing to make you give up any hope of truly falling in love with someone?”

His expression was hard and his gaze cold. I was astounded by his lack of emotion. Even if he never loved me, I thought us being intimately connected for all these years would evoke some reaction as he watched the last few pieces of my heart disintegrate. But there was nothing. Not even a subtle gesture of comfort or sorrow.

Then it dawned on me what the tradeoff had been. The deal that his parents had cut with him all those years ago. “You’d inherit the entire company, shutting Alex completely out.”

Will opened his mouth to speak several times before forming any words. “I told you, no one forces me into anything. I married you because I wanted to. Yesterday wasn’t a mistake. There’s obviously still something between us. We can make this work.”

Bryson, he didn’t deny your theory.

The mind and emotions are tricky beasts. Often they’re at odds with each other. One screaming at you to wake up and look at the facts of a situation. The other playing on your weakness, your soft spot, your heart. During my life with Will there were times when my mind tried to shake some sense into me but I allowed my emotions to drown it all out. This past year my emotions worked hard to narrow down the cause of our problems to one singular thing. I fooled myself into believing that our downfall was due to Will’s online world and all the lies that accompanied it. But the reality was that every red flag that had been raised over the ten years was only a small symptom. The reason Will and I will never see a future together was because there was never a Will and I.

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