I stand in the driveway, watching those tail lights disappear. Kicking rocks on my way back up the porch. I make sure to leave my shoes on the mat outside the door.
It fucking sucks watching your wife leave, and knowing that I’ll be sent to the bunkhouses tomorrow.
That shouldn’t raise too many questions.
Me:> I just want you to know that I’ve listened. And I know. Every time I see you, there’s a new fault I’m discovering. A wrong to right.
Wifey:I’m home. > I love you and all your faults. I just want to feel like I’m loved too. Thank you for dinner and the date. Goodnight. >
Home. That word kills another piece of my heart. She isn’t home. And I know she just meant she’s where she’s going to sleep for the night, but her home is here. With me.
My mind snags on something else she said, she doesn’t feel loved. I love her, and she knows I love her. But am I actually showing her that? No. I can’t even clean up a mess that she’s asked me to clean a hundred times. That’s not showing her love. That’s showing her she needs to be my mother.
Me:Goodnight, beautiful. >
Snuggling into my pillow that smells like Calvin, it’s a level of comfort I’ve missed. I moved home four days ago, and he moved out to the bunkhouse.
I hate that he’s in there with the young bucks. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little nervous too. The amount of girls that get filtered through there for a quick fuck is sickening honestly. But, I trust Cal. It’s the girls I don’t trust.
In the meantime though, after a shitty and busy Friday night shift, I’m thrilled to be in my bed with Cal’s scent all around me. I haven’t changed the sheets. And usually I do that on Mondays, but I don’t know if I can give up his comforting scent.
We’ve texted a bit, but I haven’t gotten a chance to see him since Henry went into the hospital the morning after our date. He’s picking up a lot of slack with Murray now that Henry is officially down, mentally and physically.
Tomorrow I’m going to make his favorite dinner and leave it in the fridge so he can come home while I’m working and enjoy a hot meal without all the guys around. That’s middle ground, right?
Me:> Since I have to work tomorrow night, I’ll leave you a home cooked meal in the fridge and you can stay here until you have to go do morning chores.
He won’t get my message until he gets up for morning chores in a few hours, but I sent it. And I’m willing to meet him halfway in working on our relationship. I know a home cooked meal will mean a lot to him.
Curling deeper into our bed, my eyes grow heavy until I drift off.
Hubs:> I’ll take meeting in the middle. And a meal. And our bed. I could even meet you in our bed >
Hubs:Before you leave for the day, want to come meet the new Arabian we got at auction?
Rubbing my eyes I reach over to grab my phone. It’s not bright enough. Which means it’s too early. I must have forgotten to put the sound off on my phone.Dammit.
I read the messages displayed on my screen. Calvin is playing dirty. He knows I won’t turn down going to see the horses.
Me:Yes. You already knew that answer though, didn’t you?
Hubs:Why are you awake now?
Me:I forgot to shut my ringer off.
Hubs:Shit. Sorry, babe. Go back to sleep.
Me:Already up. Pick me up in ten for horses?
Hubs:Absolutely. I’ll even stop to get you coffee and donuts.
Me:Chocolate?
Hubs:Of course. I know what my wife likes.
I don’t miss themy wifecomment. But I choose to ignore it and how it makes me feel for now because I haven’t had coffee yet. And the promise of donuts has me jumping up out of bed, abandoning my phone on the table.
I get dressed in record time, assessing the situation in the mirror. My hair is still damp from my shower when I got home from the bar so I just run my fingers through it, hoping for the best. The front door opens and I take one last glance in the mirror.You’ll have to do, Jules.
