Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1) (25 page)

Before he has a chance to say anything else to me, I push off the bed and rush out to my car before I lose my shit. Thankfully my full blown breakdown doesn’t happen until after I’m firmly seated inside of my car. I can barely breathe as I feel my heart shatter. My face is covered in tears and I can only imagine how bad my makeup looks because I can’t bring myself to look in the mirror.

I never should have been this stupid. I watched every woman he’s ever been with be shot down and walk away with their chests ripped open and he stood unfazed. I knew I shouldn’t get in this deep, but I couldn’t help myself when it came to falling for him. Now I have to figure out how to pick up the pieces of my damaged heart and put them back together without Gunnar noticing. If that’s even possible.

People pass by my car, some glance at me, some even stare, but no one bothers me. Trucks pull out to head out to a few different calls, and I’m still sitting here with tears falling. It isn’t until it’s pitch black out, and the only light that surrounds me is from the street lamps, that I am finally calm enough to drive home. When I pull into the driveway I know I’m going to be in a world of trouble when I go through the door because Gunnar’s truck is already there. I’m going to have to explain why I’m a disaster and that’s something I don’t know how to do.

By now I should be better at this. For months I have been able to keep the two halves of my life that kept me going separate. Now, as everything falls apart, I can’t seem to figure out which parts of me hurt for what reason. I don’t know if my heart is breaking one minute for Gunnar and the next for Dixon, or if it’s just for one of them all together. Nothing has been the way it should be between Gunnar and myself since our anniversary and I know that’s on me. If I wasn’t so hung up on what happened between Dixon and I, I’d be in the right frame of mind to fix what is breaking in my marriage.

Twice in the same week I walked away from a man I loved, hoping that they would come after me. Twice in the same week I was let down and left to my own devices to clean up the mess I created. I’ve tried to sweep the pieces of my shattered heart under the rug and move on. I’m still married, still have a husband that I need to take care of and be there for. I love Gunnar and I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t. That is the relationship I should be concerned about and striving to mend.

But Dixon
…

I push the thought from my mind. I can’t think about him without wanting to break down and cry. I hate crying, and I hate myself for doing so much of it lately. There needs to be a way to bottle up the unwanted feelings inside of me so I can shelve them and move on. Maybe what I need to do is ask Lynsey to punch me in the face. One good hit. I can hear her in the back of my head screaming, “Tears are useless and the only thing that should be wet on a woman is her pussy.”

I’d settle for never having sex again if it meant I didn’t have to feel like this anymore. An orgasm-less life is better than waking up with the feeling of having your soul being crushed because part of you is missing. All I want to do is bury myself in a bottle and drink my feelings away.

Who the hell thought up the idea of falling in love, and who the hell was stupid enough to keep it going? The one thing all this has taught me is the only thing your heart should ever be used for is to pump blood through your body. Feelings are useless and should never be mixed with something intended to keep you alive. A broken heart, a truly broken one, leaves you feeling like you’re dying. While your heart attempts to force blood through your veins to keep you going, your brain can do nothing but focus on the pain, leaving you wondering why that bastard just won’t let you lie down and die. Your brain laughs and tells you to give up, but your heart, broken and all, tells you it’s forbidden with every beat.

I feel bad for everyone that has to be around me on a daily basis lately. I’m moody, depressed, and half the time I can’t catch the tears before they fall. Thankfully I manage to only cry while I’m at work. And in the car. And the shower. OK, so pretty much anywhere I can do it without Gunnar seeing it happen. He’s not stupid though. He knows something is wrong with me. Something more than the shit going on between us. The night Dixon told me to leave I showed up at home and Gunnar was already there, waiting. It was almost as if he knew something was going on and he wanted to catch me in the middle of a breakdown to confirm his suspicions.

I pulled myself together, making sure my makeup was cleaned up the best I could before I walked through the door. When he asked where I had been, I shrugged, unable to lie and tell him I was with Lynsey because dragging her into this even more isn’t OK with me. He didn’t like my silent answer so he stood up and spun me around, noticing the fact that I had been crying right off the bat. The excuse I gave him was the only one I could think up on the spot that would be believable enough to put me in tears. I told him that my mother had called and I needed to get out for a while, but couldn’t get her words out of my head.

Not entirely a lie, but the words and voice that was running through my head wasn’t my mother’s. Well, unless you count the fact that I could hear her telling me that I wasn’t good enough and that’s why he told me to get out. That rings clear through my mind almost every day when I look into the mirror. I’ve never been good enough for Gunnar in her eyes, and everything that I’ve done lately proves it.

Sliding my fingers through my hair, I pull it up and tie it in a messy knot. Taking a chance, I lock eyes with myself in the mirror, hoping to see something other than what I’ve seen lately. I’m sadly mistaken if I actually thought anything would be different.

I’m disgusted by the person staring back at me. Her messy hair, red face, and puffy eyes show me one thing. Weakness. It leaves me hating myself as I turn away and make my way back to the kitchen where I grab a cup of coffee, hoping today is the day I can turn myself around and make things better. Better for myself so I can be better for Gunnar.

Grabbing my sunglasses off the counter by the door, I head out to the deck and drop into a chair. I prop my feet up, rest my head back, and close my eyes while I sip my coffee. Maybe the sunshine will help with the depression. I think I read somewhere that the vitamin D you get from the sun helps with shit like that. Maybe it’s the sun’s way of telling the feelings to fuck off and leave people alone.

Behind me the door slides open, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I wait for Gunnar to speak so I can judge the mood he is in this morning. He sits down next to me and grabs my coffee from my hand, taking a sip before he hands it back to me. The silence spans between us for a few minutes before he finally speaks up.

“Any idea on when I’ll be gettin’ my wife back?”

I’ve been waiting for this conversation yet I have no idea how it will go. Pulling my legs up into my chair, I draw aimlessly across my bare skin with my finger. Without looking at him I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Haven’t seen her, but if I do I’ll make sure she knows you’re looking for her.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see him shake his head in frustration and I can’t blame him. I’m frustrated with myself. “Yeah, please do that. I feel like I’ve missed somethin’ along the way because she’s never gone missin’ like this after talking to her twat of a mother.”

Talking about myself in third person is starting to piss me off, so I snap myself out of it in hopes that he will follow my lead. “Maybe I’m finally realizing she was right about everything. You deserve a hell of a lot better than me.”

“This again?” he gripes. “How many damn times do I have to say it? I didn’t settle for you, Kennedy. If I wanted someone else in my bed, I would have found someone else. I chose you, damn it. Why can’t I get that through your head? I chose you… but I’m beginnin’ to wonder if you’re still choosin’ me.”

Finally I turn to look at him, but he’s no longer watching me. His eyes stay glued to the tree line. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’,” he says after a minute and shakes his head. “It didn’t mean anything. I’m just in a bad mood and didn’t think before I spoke.”

I let it go even though I know inside that I shouldn’t. There’s something in the tone of his voice that leads me to believe there is something else on his mind that he isn’t saying, but I don’t push it. Settling into the silence I’ve become friends with, I let myself get lost in memories of when everyone sitting at this table would be laughing.

If I could go back and stop myself from bringing Dixon home that night, I would. I would keep myself from letting my marriage fall apart and keep my heart loving only Gunnar. Maybe then our group would still be five. Now every time I turn around Dixon is missing. The times I could always count on seeing him, he’s effectively dodged. The usual group dinners, football games, get togethers with George… he’s no longer a part of them. He’s practically missing from life, and if I didn’t see his truck at the station on my way to work, I’d be worried instead of hurt.

“Have you talked to Dixon lately?” Gunnar asks out of the blue. All this time and he hasn’t said a word other than saying he must be busy when Mark or Lynsey asks where is he is. Busy my ass. He’s avoiding any time that would be spent with me. Part of me hates him for it, while the other part wants to thank him for trying to make this easier on me even if he isn’t meaning to.

I clear my throat. “No. Not in a while. Then again, like you said I’ve been missing too so who knows.”

“Huh…”

“Why?” I ask, curious as to where this conversation is going even though the thought of Dixon hurts and the sinking feeling in my stomach is telling me to run.

“No reason,” Gunnar says calmly. “I just haven’t heard from him and neither have Lynsey or Mark. I figured maybe you had talked to him. Didn’t think he’d hide from every one of us.”

“Sorry.” I shrug, going back to watching the leaves dance in the breeze.

Reaching over, he pats my hand before stealing my coffee again. “No big deal, baby.” Setting the cup back on the table after a drink, he leans back in his chair and sighs. “Maybe I should call your mom and see if she talked to him around the same time she called you.”

I narrow my eyes behind my sunglasses. “Why would she call Dixon?”

“No real reason that I can think of,
Sunshine
. I just figured since he went missin’ around the same time that you started getting’ depressed, that maybe she had a hand in that too.”

Warning signs flash in my head but the train wreck I saw coming a long time ago in the distance is now right in front of me. The brakes to keep it from crashing into me have been cut, making it hard to breathe as it barrels toward me. Never, in ten years of marriage and over twenty in my life, has Gunnar
ever
called me Sunshine. Even after getting the sun tattooed on me, I was still Kennedy, babe, or baby. The only person to ever call me by that nickname is Dixon.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to calm down before I freak out and make things worse than they are. He can’t know. There’s no possible way, right? I mean, neither one of us have said anything to make him think otherwise. Me being depressed because of my mother isn’t impossible. It’s actually a common thing so that can’t be how he came to the conclusion of us being together if that’s where he is at all. Taking a deep breath, I shrug again.

“Pretty sure his truck’s at the station when I go to work for the most part. Maybe he’s picked up extra hours. Hell, maybe he’s got a woman finally. I mean, he did bring Carli with an i over here. Maybe it was more serious than we thought.” The words physically hurt to even say, but I force myself to keep going, rambling on more than I know I should but I can’t stop the monotone word vomit. “Good for him. It’s about time he moved on from Ivy. She was a bitch for leaving him like that just because of his job. Who does that? He risks his life because he knows how it feels to lose people to the flames, and she can’t even suck it up and support him. Never liked her, Lynsey either.”

Shooting out of his chair, Gunnar finishes what is left of my coffee and hands me back the empty mug. I stare at it, wondering why he didn’t get his own cup from the full pot that I made before coming out here if he wanted some that badly. He must see the question that I’m not asking because he storms back toward the house, but his reaction shocks me.

“I would’ve made my own, but you used the last of the milk Kennedy, and you forgot to pick some up on your way home,” he yells loudly, nearly making my teeth rattle.

The front door slams before I even realize that he’s through the house. His yelling was loud enough that he sounded like he was standing right behind me even though he was already on his way out. His truck starts, revving for a second before peeling out of the driveway.

After all that did he really just yell at me for forgetting milk?

Who the hell gets mad about something small like that? It’s milk. It’s something so tiny and fixable that I could laugh about him getting upset over it. Compared to all the big things going on that would really upset him, milk should be irrelevant. Gunnar never raises his voice so this has me replaying the conversation over in my head, trying to figure out what in the hell has upset him. I manage to make my way back inside and set my cup in the sink before everything hits me.