Torrid Affair (17 page)

N
obody likes change
. Whoever said they looked forward to their life changing lied. But change is inevitable. I was ten years older; married. I moved on. But the moment my gaze landed on Nathaniel Wright, I was right back to where I had always been—hopelessly in love with him.

E
xhausted from a twelve-hour drive
, I parked my car across the street and considered Louisa's house. I’d been inside only once for Thanksgiving over ten years ago, and even though she was my mother-in-law, I’d never visited her.

It was now the home of Nathaniel and Delaney Wright. Two people who, at one point, were the closest friends I had.  Two people I hadn’t seen in a decade. Two people I avoided.

After I discovered their joyous news and sent Nate my hateful text message, I rose from my bedroom floor and made my mother's health my sole priority. Julian was a man of his word. He stayed beside me the entire time and became the man I needed in my life. I owed him everything. And with Nate out of the picture, I learned to love him. We had a small City Hall wedding where I vowed to be his wife. We were happy for many years. But I refused to ever return to Charlotte. It was simple. I didn’t want to leave my mother. The stroke caused permanent damage to her speech and she was bound to a wheelchair. Julian never pushed the subject. We didn’t even come down when Delaney and Nate welcomed their baby boy.

The reality was I couldn't stomach seeing Nate again.  

Deep down in my heart, I knew I still loved him.

I wasn’t the same person who left Charlotte. Instead, I learned to live on autopilot, taking one day at a time.

The Brielle that Nate knew ten years ago was completely different from the woman I was today. I was filled with hatred and resentment, and I blamed him for all of it. He never really loved me.

I loved Julian. And this was why I came all the way to a place I swore I’d never step in again.

Inhaling the dry air in my car, I turned the engine off and pushed my shoulders back before I opened the door. “This is for my marriage,” I whispered as I stepped out of the car.

I reminded myself why I was here.
Once you’re in, you’re in.
I was staying in my marriage because I made a vow. Julian had given me promises, a house, a life. He picked me up when I was down.

But the fear that he’d continue to physically and verbally abuse me was why I came here. I would get him the help he needed to change.

My flip-flops slapped my heels as I stepped along the stone path. The landscaping had changed, and the house had been painted a periwinkle blue. The new black shutters told me the renovations were recent. With a trembling hand, I pressed the doorbell.

Nauseated.

Scared.

Anxious.

I wanted to hide and throw up. My legs threatened to bolt for a split second, but the door opened and there was no escaping the man standing before me.

Nathaniel.

Nate
.

He was ten years older and—
fuck me—
he was one gorgeous specimen. His hair was cut short, and the scruff around his rigid jawline made me weak. His T-shirt covered broad shoulders.
Why in God’s name did I still love that man?

This was a bad idea. It had been ten years. He was a stranger to me now, not to mention I probably looked like hell at the moment.

I turned and began to walk back to my car.

“Brielle, wait.” His voice was deeper, too. More masculine. And the way he said my name caused chills to run up my spine.

I turned back in his direction. “I'm sorry to knock on your door like this.” My voice was shaky. “I've been driving all day, and it didn't even dawn on me that I probably should've called.” My hands balled into fists. “But Julian needs help and I don’t know what else to do.”

Nate stood there motionless. The door opened further and Delaney greeted me. “Brielle! Don't be silly. You are never a bother.” Delaney hadn’t aged a day. With open arms, she closed the gap between us. “I haven't seen you in ages,” she mumbled into my hair. My gaze locked on Nate’s, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why I hated him.  

Delaney hugged me tighter. “God, Brie, I've missed you so much. Come inside.”

I could feel Nate’s eyes on me as I walked across the threshold of their home, but I didn't dare look in his direction. One glance at him and I would lose my composure. I was here on a mission. I was here because I needed help. I swallowed back the golf ball sized nodule that had lodged in my throat and forced myself to smile at Delaney.

My lips parted to speak when I heard the closing of the back door and footfalls running through the house.

“Dad!” A young boy’s voice ricocheted through the house. It wasn't bad enough that Nate had stayed behind and married Delaney, but he had made a family with her.

The air vanished from my lungs as I anticipated meeting their son, Caleb. My nephew. I expected a younger version of Nate’s broad shoulders, scruffy brown hair, and piercing green eyes. Instead, I was greeted with a boy who had strawberry blonde hair and crimson freckles scattered across his cheeks.

I’d seen those freckles before on a boy named Austin.
I pushed the thought out of my mind. It was not my place to meddle in anyone’s life when mine was in shambles.

Nate cleared his throat and opened his arm to the boy. “Caleb, this is your Aunt Brielle, Uncle Julian's wife.”

Bile rose in my stomach. This was wrong. Everything that had broken my soul was right in front of me: Nate, Delaney, and their family in their perfect fucking house.

“Hi,” the boy said timidly. His long eyelashes covered his big brown eyes. “It's nice to meet you.”

His soft spoken voice pulled me out of a trance. “Hi, Caleb.” I smiled.

“What did I tell you about running in the house?” Delaney rested her hands on her hips.

“Sorry, Mom.” Caleb bowed his head.

“Honey, why don't you take Caleb out to play catch?” Delaney looked over at Nate. “I think Brie and I need to talk.”

I forced my features to remain neutral and didn't meet Nate's gaze, though I felt his on me. The two exchanged a few whispered words as I scanned the foyer and took in their house.

It looked as though it was taken out of a Country Living magazine. Light walls, beautifully arranged furniture, and bouquets of fresh flowers scattered on various surfaces. Long white curtains hung from high on the wall, the sunset peering right into the living room, and family photos of the three of them were everywhere.

I wanted to run away. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to get back in my car and never look back. But I was there for Julian, and Nate was the only one who could help me.

“Come on, champ.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Nate ruffle Caleb's hair. “Let's play some ball.”

Delaney and I watched as Nate and Caleb strolled through the house and out the back door. When it shut behind them, she turned and looked at me

“Come on, let's sit in the living room.”

“Your house is beautiful, Del.” It seemed my dirty shorts would smudge her cream sofa.

“Thank you.” She sat next to me and smiled widely. “Nathan did it all himself.” She said her husband's name with such pride. “He worked at it little by little until we made it our home.” The way she said home was a dagger in my heart. I was so careless ten years ago. So stupid and young. What I felt for Nate was nothing like he felt for me. He built Del a home.
And I was tossed aside.

Delaney placed her hand on my lap, her eyes soft and a sad smile on her face. “Talk to me, Brielle. I know it's been years since we've spoken, but tell me what's going on.”

She looked as stunning as ever, with her handsome husband and a child they both loved, while I looked homeless with layers of foundation covering the bruise Julian left on my cheek.

My eyes swelled up with tears. “I guess I have to start from the beginning.” Delaney grabbed a tissue and handed it to me.  “When my mother had her stroke, life changed completely. I was lost; I didn’t know what to do. My father wanted to pull the plug on her, and the floor was slipping out from underneath me. Then Julian showed up at my door and he was my anchor. My mother lost her jobs and her health care benefits, but Julian discovered a whole life insurance policy that had cash value. My mother’s left side was paralyzed, and her rehab and physical therapy bills were insane.” I closed my eyes and allowed myself to remember those dreaded days.

“I became her power of attorney. I was able to cash out the policy to pay for her medical expenses. Of course, my father was there when I withdrew the money and asked for half of it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, reliving my darkest moments.

“Oh, Brie.” Delaney held my hand.

“My mother doesn't know how to stand up to my father; she's never been able to. Even when she couldn’t speak or walk, she wanted to give it to him. But Julian stood up to him. He kicked Brian out of the house, and soon he became the man I fell in love with. Our provider.”

Delaney looked at me with her brow furrowed.

“He started working for this man, Dennis. He paid Julian a lot of money, and everything was great. We got married, my mother got better, and Julian paid for her housing in an assisted living home. Dennis bought my mother’s house in cash, and we bought a townhouse in the heart of Chicago. Then Julian changed. There were nights he came home with blood on his hands. He grew angry over the years, and he took his frustration out on me.” I bowed my head in shame. “I don't know why I waited so long to ask for help.”

“Oh, my.” Delaney reached for a tissue and wiped her own tears.

“When he gets really angry, I become his punching bag. Julian was a wonderful husband until he started working for Dennis. “I sobbed.

Delaney hugged me. “Why did you stay? Why did you wait so long?”

I shook my head and looked at their fireplace. “Because I’m my mother’s daughter, and when you’re in, you’re in.” Her eyebrows pinched together. “I gave him ten years. I signed a piece of paper and vowed for better or worse. I can’t turn on him now. If he’s willing to make this marriage work, I am too. I owe everything I am to Julian.”

“You just told me you were his punching bag.”

“Not all marriages are perfect.” I glared at a picture of her and Nate. “I can't live with the fear of knowing my husband might be killing someone in order to make a living for us.”

Delaney heaved a deep sighed. Her manicured nails ran through her hair. “I’ll talk to Nate. In the meantime, you'll stay with us.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Yes. You’re family, Brie, and there's no way I'll let you go back to him until we have it all figured out.”

“I don't want to impose.”

“You're not imposing.” Delaney held my hand.  “You're my sister. I can't let you go through this alone.” A kind smile grew on her face.  “So much time has passed. I think you need us now more than ever.”

I wasn’t their charity case. I was here for Julian, not myself. “Really, Del, I don't want to barge into your life. There’s no need to stay here with all my drama.”

“I won’t take no for answer.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I know Nate won’t have it any other way.”

“I’ll get a hotel room and then we can figure it all out.”

“Don't be silly. You can stay in the apartment above the garage.”

“Apartment?”

“When we found out I was pregnant with Caleb, my parents disowned me. Daddy hated the fact I had thrown my career down the drain. But Louisa took us in. Nate and Warren built an apartment over the garage so we had our own space.”

“Thank you.” It was all I could say.

A beeping sound startled me. I glanced at Delaney. “That's the oven. I was making dinner. Give me just a few minutes.” She held my hand. “Or you can come with me and we can continue our conversation. We have so much to catch up on.”

“No,” I said sharply. The last thing I wanted was to hear more about her wonderful life with the man I loved. I looked down at my purse. “I probably should turn my phone on and face the world.”

Delaney nodded sympathetically. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

She walked down the hallway, and I tiptoed out of the house to check my cell. Thirty missed messages and twelve new voicemails. Ignoring all of Julian's, I read the messages from Yve, my only friend in Chicago. She was a cashier at the paint store where I worked, but she was also my therapist, my shoulder to cry on, and the only person who had kept me sane for the past year.  

Yve: Hey. Are you coming in today?

Yve: Julian just called the store looking for you. Are you okay?

Yve: Now I'm freaking out. Where are you?

Yve: Julian came and yelled at me! He said you left. Seriously, Brielle, if you’re not dead in a ditch, can you please call me!

I moved past the text messages and on to her first voicemail.

“Hey B. I'm only having the world’s biggest panic attack. What the fuck happened? Please call me. Dickwad came by the store three times today. I'm freaking the fuck out!”

Sitting on the Adirondack chair near the front door, I pulled my phone away from my ear and hit the call back button. It only rang once before she answered it.

“Sweet baby Jesus. Looks who's calling. Tell me you're okay,” she said in one rushed breath.

It was the first time I smiled. “I'm fine, Yve.”

“Are you sure? Because you've never missed work and your husband has gone ape shit looking for you.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I couldn't take it anymore. I'm so tired. Last night was the last straw.”

“I know, babe.” Her voice dropped the exaggerated tone. “Why don't you come by? I'll make some margaritas and we can bash the asshole.”

“I can't.”

“You're turning down tequila and Julian bashing?”

I chuckled. “I can't because I'm in . . . Charlotte.” I closed my eyes, anticipating her response.

“You're. . . . Oh, shit . . . Oh, motherfucking shit. You left one asshole to go see Satan?” I heard Yve bang something against a hard surface. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

She was the only person who knew everything that had happened between Nate and me. She had been at the hospital visiting her ailing grandmother while I was there with my mother. She caught me crying in the bathroom a few days after I found out about Nate and Delaney’s pregnancy. I was standing near the sink, my hands covering my face as I wept. She walked out of the stall with her pink tipped platinum blonde hair and said, “Who’s the bastard? I’ll kill him.” She always knew what to say to make me laugh, and from that moment on, we were friends.