Rightfully guilty, I guess.
Ellen.
She did itall, was a supermom. I’m not being sarcastic, either. She volunteered, she tutored the kids when they needed homework help, she drove them to school and sports and kept our house. I tried to hire a housekeeper once and she refused.
As she pointed out, wehad three kids with chore lists.
When I made partner at the firm, she quit teaching to be a stay-at-home mom. That was her decision, not mine. I even asked Casey to please ask her to reconsider. It wasn’t that we needed her income, but I didn’t want her looking back later to regret it.
Only after Casey thoroughly sussed things out for me and assured me that wasreallywhat Ellen truly wanteddid I relax over it.
I mean, sure, every guy fantasizes about having a sexy slave at home, right?
I had her, even though that part of our relationship was carefully hidden. We had three kids and no privacy.
Although there were times I went home for lunch while the kids were at school, or she met me at a hotel near my office for a nooner and we’d pretend we just met. After I was elected Speaker,sometimes we’d have sex in my office there at the capitol.
She loved us, loved being a wife and mom.
Loved beingmine.
I have a cleaning lady come out twice a month now, the same one Casey uses. Once a quarter she does a thorough deep clean. I keep up with the rest of it.
Not like it’s difficult to keep up with. Mostly the kitchen and my bathroom. I can do my own laundry, the stuff I do myself,like sheets and towels, underwear, items that don’t need to be dry-cleaned. Casey takes care of dropping my suits off and picking them up from the cleaners.
It took me nearly six months after my return to finally sit down in Ellen’s closet one day and start going through it with Casey. Even then, I cried and couldn’t let some things go.
Her favorite Vols hoodie.
The dress she wore to dinnerfor our tenth wedding anniversary, and one she also wore to many other fancy events after that, a dress I fucked her in more times than I can count, much less remember.
Her favorite Minnie Mouse flannel PJs. How many Saturday nights did I spend with that soft fabric pressed against my cheek as I stretched out on the couch with my head in her lap and she played with my hair?
Too many to count.
Nothing smells like her anymore, though. I still use her shampoo and body wash sometimes, but nothing smells like…her.
“Has she been dating, Dad?” Ryder asks, knocking me out of the tornadic pull of my rapidly darkening thoughts.
“Yeah,” I admit.
Ryder and Logan are now both focused on me. “Well?” they ask together.
“Well, what?”
“What’s he like?” Logan asks.
“Guys, I know you love yourlittle sister, but I’m her father. I don’t need you going caveman on anyone. It’s under control. Aunt Casey is also on the job.”
I know Casey knows, because Aussie told me she confided in her. She still hasn’t come out to her brothers. I’m nearly positive they’ll support her, but that’s not my call to make. I won’t out her. When she’s ready to tell them, she will.
And if they try to give hera hard time once she does, I’ll wring their necks with my bare hands, my sons or not.
Once we’re home, everyone spreads out to change clothes. I lock myself in my bedroom for a few minutes. Immediately and unbidden, five different scenarios about how to kill myself with what I have on hand in my bedroom come to mind, starting with—
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a long, deep breath, hold it,and slowly let it out.
This is supposed to be a happy day. I don’t want to worry the boys or my brothers. Chase lives in Memphis, and Tyson lives in Atlanta. They’re both single right now. Chase is divorced, and Tyson’s never married. They’re leaving tomorrow night, and I want this weekend to be a good one. The three of us rarely get together anymore, even after my return. They have busy lives,and I’m…
