Page 12 of Unfaithfully Yours

NINE

Kamran

I was a fucking coward.

Instead of dealing with Melissa the way I should have, I'd run straight—or not so straight—into Ryan's arms once again. And when he'd given me the best head I'd ever received, when the sight of him between my legs completely disarmed me, I'd run again.

Coming home, I'd been determined to tell Melissa everything that had happened.

To explain as best I could and tell her that I knew what she had been doing with Robert.

I wanted to get it all off my chest and tell her that it had to stop, all of it, right then and there while we decided what came next.

But I'd forgotten that she wasn't going to be home for hours.

The fact that she was “working late” was the reason I’d ended up at Ryan’s place to begin with.

So now I sat, staring at the clock on the wall, watching the hours pass, with nothing to distract me.

For a while, I sat on the back patio finishing a pack of smokes as I descended into my dark thoughts.

I could be honest with myself and say I had freaked out. It had been too good. Too overwhelming. His touches felt like they went deeper than skin.

It felt like he loved me.

And I had never felt that in someone's touch before. Never. Not even with Melissa.

She'd loved me though, of that I was sure, but it was more something I had seen in the eyes.

She'd been easy with her affection too, cuddly, and sweet, always giving hugs and kisses, everything soft and quick.

Little touches here and there all day, and I'd returned them all the time.

I enjoyed being around her, joking with her, playing games, watching movies, just doing everyday things. ..

So how was it that she had never made me feel like that? Like I was being turned inside out by her mouth. Like I was dying and being resuscitated all at once...

I stood, walking to the bedroom, and opening the dresser drawer that had been stuffed with bits and pieces, including our wedding album.

We had our favorite photo from that day hanging up in the stairwell under the chandelier and I passed it every day.

The novelty of seeing us holding hands in front of a sunset had worn off ages ago.

And you couldn't see our faces in that photo, just our backs, so that wouldn't help me now.

Taking a steadying breath, I took the thick album and went and sat down on the edge of the bed before opening it.

The images made a knot form in my throat, sadness coating every memory.

The venue, at the boathouse by the water looked as lovely as I remembered it. Melissa looked even better. She was literally perfect in every way. She had worked her ass off in the gym to fit that dress just right even though she really hadn't needed to, she had already been in great shape.

The thing that got me though, was that she looked so happy . I could not in any recent memory, think of her looking so filled with life and vitality and excitement as she had on that day, getting ready with her bridesmaids and her mom.

I flipped the page and paused, realizing that we were now moving to the groom's side, and we all looked pretty damn fine, if I did say so myself. The rich blue suit complimented me and the guys looked great in their cream colored suits. Everyone looked just right. Especially Ryan.

My gaze was drawn to him. With his thick ashy blond hair slicked neatly into place, clean shaven with a tailored suit on, he looked ready to start a modeling career.

Funny how I hadn't noticed that before. Or maybe I had in an observational way only—like, oh look, the sun is bright.

That was basically how I thought of Ryan in general.

Bright, handsome, uplifting... It was a given.

As my best man, he was in a lot of the pictures, always at my side, looking like he was having a great time.

It took me far too long to realize that in every picture, he was looking at me.

Even the ones where everyone was posed and supposed to be looking at the camera, his eyes were turned subtly in my direction.

Even in the picture of us all dancing together after dinner, he was holding Melissa's hand, twirling her around, but he was looking at me…

and I was leaning toward him, probably about to say something stupid, like I always did.

And he would listen, like he always did. Because he was always there for me.

And now, for the first time, everything that had happened since he'd held me and kissed me that first night, started to shift and align.

I found myself flipping the page, searching for Ryan's face, Melissa forgotten.

There he was, in the background while I danced with her. And he was watching me. Just me. And this time, he wasn't smiling.

There was a spotlight on me and my bride, and so many people around, maybe he'd thought no one would notice. To be fair, you'd have to be seeking him out to see him standing there in the shadows, a drink in hand, his gaze fixed on me, looking like he was miles away.

A strange feeling filled me as I looked at the picture and finally understood.

Ryan loved me.

In the other pictures he was looking at me, smiling and happy to be there. There was nothing to really give it away, but from this picture alone, I knew that it was true.

That was why he had held me so tightly. It was why he had kissed me and comforted me. It was why he'd sucked me and touched me like I was something special.

It wasn't just because he was into men. It was because it was me .

I didn't know how long I sat there for, unmoving, but I was still on that page when I heard the telltale creak of the door opening downstairs, breaking me from my stunned thoughts. I heard Melissa trying to be quiet. Setting down her keys in the bowl by the door and sighing as she entered.

I'd wanted to talk to her about everything, but I felt numb as she walked up the stairs before appearing in the bedroom door, looking tired and disheveled.

She paused, staring at me. Her blue eyes travelled down to the photo book in my lap, still open on the picture of us dancing together. The photographer had caught us at arm’s length from each other, just as I was twirling her out, her dress spinning around her ankles.

To my surprise, she smiled warmly and stepped into the room, coming to a stop next to me before sinking down at my side.

Her petite frame barely made the bed dip.

I looked at her, noticing her cheeks seemed more gaunt than usual and worry and anxiety twisted in my chest because it didn't seem like I had a right to be angry anymore. Not after what I had done today.

“We nailed that choreography,” she said, still looking at the picture.

I smiled.

“Yeah. We killed it.”

“The dance classes leading up to it were even more fun, though.”

Pain twisted my stomach into a knot until I felt like I was going to be sick. We'd been so stupidly happy back then. What the hell had happened?

“You okay?” she asked, her hand landing on my forearm.

When I looked at her, her gaze was filled with such concern, that for a moment it was hard to believe that any of this was real.

“How was work?” I asked. “I’m guessing Robert kept you company?”

I hadn't meant to say it. It was like my brain was trying to shock us both back to reality.

Even though she barely shifted, Melissa stiffened next to me and her worried gaze turned hostile.

“Kamran,” she said slowly. “If there's something you want to say, just say it.”

That chastising tone shamed me better than my own mother could have, and nerves did the rest. As much as I wanted to end this turmoil, it was nearly eleven and I felt like I hadn't slept in years. On top of that, my best friend loved me, and my wife didn’t want me.

I didn't know where to even fucking start.

The words dried on my lips.

If I said it now, that would be it. There was no way this wasn’t going to end in a fight. One of us would be out of this house by morning and I assumed it was going to me but I was bone tired and suddenly scared.

When I remained silent for a full minute, she sighed and pushed to her feet.

She went into the walk-in closet to change into her pajamas—when had that happened?

Come to think of it, I couldn't even remember the last time she'd changed in front of me.

Then, without saying a word, she shut off the light, leaving me sitting in the dark with the album still open on my lap as she climbed into bed.

After a long moment, I finally shut the album and stood in the dark to set it on the dresser. I usually slept in my boxers, so simply pulled off my clothes, dropping them next to my side of the bed since I couldn't see and climbed under the covers next to her.

“Were you smoking?” she asked.

I gritted my teeth, for some reason annoyed that she already knew.

“No.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered after a while.

“Night,” I returned.

For a long time, I could tell she was still awake. We were both tense, barely breathing, maybe waiting for each other to say something, but neither of us did.

Everything was so different from how it had been, and I hadn’t even noticed the shift until I’d seen those messages. I’d been completely blindsided. I should hate Melissa, but I didn’t, because the more I laid there, in the dark, the more I understood.

We were still married, but I didn’t even want to roll over and hug her. I didn’t want to kiss her or make love to her.

All I could think of was the man I’d left sitting on his living room floor looking like the world was ending.

He was the one I wanted to fix things with. He was the one that I wanted to hold and beg for forgiveness.

Me and Mellissa were laying here in this bed, both after being with someone else. We were two peas in a pod. Both terrible.

But at the same time, it made it feel less wrong.

We didn’t want each other. We both knew that now. Soon, it would be over, we just had to rip the bandage off and after that, I could be with Ryan.

Shock rippled through me at that thought, at the sureness of it.

Until today, I hadn’t thought I was properly into men. I’d thought I could do stuff with Ryan because I trusted him, he felt good, and I wanted the comfort.

Now, a light bulb had gone off in my head and it was all I could think about.

Me and Ryan… Aside from my own idiocy, what was to stop us from being together? Because now that it was in my head, it was like the world was making sense in a way that it never had before. Like my brain was saying “Ah! Of course!”

Me and Ryan … we just made sense .

More sense than me and Melissa ever had because she was like a separate person. Someone that I cared about but… Ryan was like a part of me, an extension. He was my person and always had been, ever since that first college party had put us in the same room playing beer pong.

I'd always known it, but for the first time, I felt like I really understood it. How fucked up that it had taken getting to this point for me to see it for what it really was. We could lose the B from our bromance and never need anything or anyone else ever again.

Sorting out my messed-up marriage had felt like an all-consuming issue but now another one swiftly flew in and took over; I needed to make things right with Ryan.