Page 25 of Unfaithfully Yours

SEVENTEEN

Kamran

I was revved up and ready to finally get this over with, but it was like Michelle had a sixth sense, because my phone vibrated with a string of messages.

I'm taking Lissa to the spa for the day.

Then to see a chick flick.

Then probably out for drinks.

She needs a pick-me-up. I'm sure you understand. I promise I'll deliver her home tomorrow, but for now, I'm stealing her.

I stared at the messages long enough that Ryan peered over my shoulder to read them.

“Well then,” he said.

We were already sitting on my front porch waiting for her to get home. All this time, my heart was in my throat as though I was about to face off against her in a boxing match, or potentially about to break her heart, which made no sense, but now she wasn't available.

Ryan chuckled, hooking an arm around my shoulder.

“Oh well, one more day,” he said, squeezing me. “We should go to the spa and see a movie too.”

“Yeah, maybe we should,” I agreed.

Truthfully, I didn't know what else to do with myself, so why the fuck not?

“Really?” Ryan asked hesitantly.

I turned so that we could see each other's eyes properly and nodded.

“Yeah Ryan,” I said. “Our friends know. You're hugging me on your front porch, so the neighbours probably know too.”

He glanced around, just realizing.

“What else am I going to have to do to convince you that I want this to be real?” I asked. “That I don't mind people knowing?”

He shook his head.

“I guess I just need you to give me time, Kam,” he confessed. “This is a huge change for me.”

At my look, his cheeks reddened.

“I know it's a big change for you too, but you never spent years believing it was impossible before I started jumping in bed with you. It was a surprise, but it wasn't something you thought was unattainable.”

“Just because I never thought about attaining it.”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Snorting, I pulled him toward my car.

“You might want to tell the guys to drop off your car while we're out. I'm not in the mood to deal with them.”

“No?” Ryan asked curiously.

“Nope.” I said. “I want today to be all about us.”

Going to the movies with Ryan on a proper date didn’t feel as surreal as the rest of this relationship development had. It felt like taking a breath and exhaling instead of holding it in. It was the easiest thing in the world.

I held his hand in the line for popcorn and didn’t let it go sitting in the theatre seats.

We made jokes about the previews and picked the next movie we would see.

Half way through the film all I could concentrate on was the way his thumb ran over my knuckles and I felt warm even with the AC blaring.

This was how it was supposed to be.

Afterwards we went back to his place because he was worried about Melissa walking in on us even though she wasn’t supposed to come home yet.

I indulged him because at this point I would do anything for him and relaxed on the couch with his feet on my lap while he dozed.

He was still a bit hung over and we’d both been up late last night, so it suited me just fine until a couple hours passed and all I could think about was last night.

It was like a tickle in the back of my skull, moments sticking out at me; his breath on my neck while he fucked me, the slide of his cock in and out, his tongue delving places no one else had ever been before.

I’d meant what I’d told him earlier. Last night had made it blatantly clear that I had never really liked sex as much as I could have. I’d copied friends. I’d acted the ways that I thought I should. I’d sought out a girl that I thought fit the image I had of a perfect wife.

It was an unsettling feeling to look back and see that I had been acting all along. I hadn’t ever realized.

My hands shook with guilt, but my cock was hard too. I felt queasy and horny and very confused because Ryan kept saying that Lissa’s cheating wasn’t my fault, but it sure as hell felt like it was.

Ryan’s feet suddenly shifted in my lap, drawing my attention.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, eyes closed, still half asleep.

“Yeah,” I answered. “Wake up and fuck me.”

He sat up and was crawling across the couch over to me before I was even done the sentence. Thank God, I needed the distraction.

Sober this time, he was softer. He kissed me so deeply I really did forget everything else and that was even before he bent me over and worked me open.

I didn’t even care that he insisted on wearing a condom. I was too desperate to argue. He did everything slower this time. There was something like reverence in his touch and by the end, I was fighting back tears and clinging to him like my life depended on it.

He convinced me to make my way upstairs and into the shower afterwards and even though he didn’t ask why I was so quiet, he still held me under the spray until my body started to relax.

“Bed time,” he finally said and I just went along with him, getting dressed and under the covers where he could finally hold me tight until a fitful sleep took me.

In the morning, I would finally talk to Melissa.

And I had a really bad feeling about it.

I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all.

Ryan was watching me.

“Want breakfast before we go to your place? He asked.

I shook my head. I couldn’t eat.

“Let’s just go.”

My hands were shaking the whole drive home. I didn't know if Melissa would be there but Ryan was. He was sitting at my side, looking stoically out the window like no matter what came it would all be just fine.

I didn't feel that way. For some reason, it felt like a tide was coming in.

“Breathe,” Ryan reminded me.

“Right.”

I inhaled and exhaled, but this anxiety wasn't going anywhere until this was all over.

Absently, I reached toward Ryan. He took my hand at once, holding it in his lap and a bit of the fear ebbed away. My life line, yet again.

When we turned onto my block, I was almost relieved to see that Melissa's car wasn't in her parking spot.

“Hopefully she gets home soon,” I said.

“I don't mind waiting,” Ryan told me.

“We can watch something?” I suggested.

He nodded and we went inside, flopping onto the couch where it had all started.

Maybe he knew I was thinking about it, because he gave me an almost shy smile while I flipped through streaming services, trying to find something good.

It was actually nice to just relax together. After a while, the nerves even started to ebb, but as the hours dragged on, they turned to frustration.

Heaving a sigh, I pulled out my phone, finally, dialling Melissa's number. At this point, getting it over with was preferable to dragging it out any longer, but she didn't answer.

I hung up, frustrated, and tossed my phone onto the coffee table in disgust.

“She's the one who cheated on me first,” I said. “As far as she knows I'm just as committed as always. What reason does she have to keep avoiding me like this? It's so fucking childish.”

“She must know you know,” Ryan said objectively. “Maybe she's just not ready to face the music yet.”

I shut my eyes, knowing that he was right. As soon as I'd said we needed to talk she was suddenly more elusive than Bigfoot.

“I know we've already been you know , and I know Dave and Ollie already know, butI can't move on properly until I speak to her. I can barely even breathe , you know?”

Ryan shook his head.

“Honestly, it's hard for me to wrap my head around,” he admitted. “I haven't been with someone as long or with even half the commitment... I know this is hard for you. I know you thought it was going to be forever with her.”

“Ryan... for fuck’s sake…”

“What?”

“You're too fucking sweet. I can't handle it.”

That was the hardest part,acceptingand melding all the memories.

Ryan had been at my side even on my wedding day and his presence had been more appreciated than my parents’.

All I had wanted was him at my side while Melissa walked down the aisle.

How fucked up and dirty was that? At the time it had felt good having him there .

It had felt so special with myfiancéin front of me and my best friend at my side.

Now,all I could think was that Ryan had loved me then.

He had loved me while I gushed about Melissa after our first date.

He had loved me when he helped me set up the perfect proposal.

He had loved me when shewalkeddown the aisle.

And he loved me now, sitting on my couch, waiting for my wife to come home so that he could help me break up with her—because I couldn't even do that without him.

“What the hell would I do without you?” I wondered and the next thing I knew, I was on top of him.

His arms came around me at once, holding me against him, feeding into my desperate need with his own.

I kissed him like he was a pocket of air and I was under water and he held onto me with just as much urgency.

We were ridiculous together, but I didn't care.

“Need you,” I whispered.

He moaned softly, and suddenly his grip tightened and he flipped me over, flat onto the couch, TV forgotten, just like that first time. And just like that time, the front door opened as Melissa entered, but this time, neither of us noticed.

The sound of something falling and hitting the floor had us breaking apart just as Melissa gasped loudly.

“Oh my god!”

Ryan was off of me so fast I may as well have electrocuted him, but it didn't matter, the damage was done.

I sat up, my heart racing.

Melissa was standing in the entryway to the living room.

Her hands were over her mouth in shock and I forced myself to meet her eyes which were wide and flooded with tears.

The betrayal and pain in them shot straight through me.

Every moment me and Ryan had touched each other flashed through my mind and I knew it was the worst kind of betrayal in the world.

“Lissa,” I whispered.

She shut her eyes and all the tears being held at bay poured down her cheeks. And with that, she turned and ran.

“Fuck!” I hissed, scrambling to my feet to go after her.

I was barely up off the couch when the door slammed shut behind her.

Ryan moved faster than me.

He was through the hall and throwing open the front door before I could even force myself to move.

“Lissa!” he shouted, not to stop her, to warn her and the sound of screeching tires and a scream made my entire body go cold.

Fear unlike anything I had ever felt slowed me like molasses stuck to the bottom of my shoes.

She was dead. I knew she was. She had been distracted and ran onto the street without looking. I’d killed her.

There was an air of tension outside. As I reached the door, I could feel it before I even saw it. People were talking in frantic voices. I could hear Ryan saying something soothing. When I finally saw the scene outside, relief hit me hard because Melissa was alive and awake.

But she was on the ground. The driver of the car who had hit her was standing on the side walk, speaking frantically into her cell phone, calling an ambulance by the sounds of it, and Ryan was crouched down next to Melissa, holding her hand tightly in his own.

And just like that, the fear shifted into a frantic need to keep her here with us and I ran to her, dropping down on her other side.

She was crying outright now, clinging to Ryan's hand and not moving.

“My leg,” she sobbed.

“The ambulance is on the way,” Ryan said, his voice strong and calm. Thank God for that because I was crying now too.

“Melissa, I'm so sorry,” I wept. “I wanted to talk to you. I didn't want to hurt you.”

Her face, already constricted with pain, twisted with even more.

She wouldn't look at me, wouldn't even open her eyes again until the ambulance and police arrived. They started taking statements at once.

“She just ran onto the road,” the driver was saying frantically while they put Melissa onto a stretcher.

“It was my fault,” I found myself saying over and over to anyone who would listen. “I upset her and she ran without looking.”

Ryan's hand landed on my shoulder, offering me support, but for the first time, I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything . I was pretty sure I was suffocating.

“Is she going to be okay?” I demanded of the medics.

“Are you family?” one of them asked me.

“I'm her husband,” I said and they waved me into the ambulance with her.

“I'll meet you there,” Ryan was saying, but I could barely hear him.

I didn't even look back as the doors shut between us.

Melissa was writhing in pain. A needle was being put into her arm, probably pumping her with morphine.

I watched as she passed out of consciousness, the pain and betrayal finally smoothing from her expression.

What had I done?