My pipeline has been filling up faster than usual lately, and I have a few big deals that are about to pop soon, including one absolute whopper that might make company history later this quarter.
If that one closes, I think I’ll take Chrissy and the kids on a trip with that commission. She’s been working so much since we got Lea into daycare, and I know she’s been putting so much pressure on herself with the kids, the house, and her business. We haven’t taken a vacation since it was just Brad, Ford, and us, when we went up to New England to see the fall foliage maybe five or six years ago. We had the best time on that trip, and I know she wanted to do it again. Maybe I can surprise her, recreate that magic with all six of us now.
Whatever I do, it needs to be something, and fast. My girl doesn’t do well when she’s sitting on something, especially when it’s something she’s mad at me about. I gotta pull it out of her, and fast, or this could get ugly.
FOUR
CHRISSY
Back to life as usual. Making the kids’ lunches before I wake them up, get them ready for school, do some social media posts for my business, and then run seventy-three errands in the few hours I have to myself. I’m so lost in thought, planning my day, that I jump when I hear Chance start speaking from the kitchen doorway.
“I can tell you’re mad at me, baby. I know you want to make me work for it.”
I roll my eyes, silently confirming the first half of his statement as I turn my back on him as best I can, and continue bagging up their sandwiches.
He steps closer, pressing his front up against my back, and runs his hand down the seam of my yoga pants, straight down my ass, and his fingers just keep heading south. My body responds instantly, and I fight to keep my back from arching and pushing my ass into his crotch. It’s really not fair that my body hasn’t gotten the memo we’re mad at him. It remembers all the reasons we love him. All those things his body does to mine being not far from the top of that list.
“Here’s the thing, baby. I have no problem putting in the work for you. You know how much it turns me on when you get feisty with me. But Iwillmake this pussy mine tonight.” His hand traces the seam on the fabric between my legs from behind, pressing in ever so slightly atthatspot, and my knees literally quiver as heat floods the area. I hope to hell he can’t feel the warmth there. That would kind of undermine my frosty exterior I’ve been working overtime to maintain with him as he’s been getting closer and closer to breaking through it with his stupid charm.
His lips skim the shell of my ear with his next words, the puffs of his soft breath on the delicate skin of my neck, and I shutter my eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t catch that you haven’t been waking me up lately, baby. You’re shutting me out, punishing me for something. Whatever it is, I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he tells me, and heads back down the hallway toward our bedroom without another word.
He knows that when I’m mad I either snap or clam up. I haven’t snapped yet, so he’s trying to force me to let it out one way or another. I know his game just as well as he knows mine.
But I haven’t even figured out what the fuck I would say to him.
Am I mad he was masturbating? That’s not really fair, considering he literally cleared my schedule so I could do the same.
Am I mad that he was looking at porn? Is that fair? I’m pretty sure most men look at porn, and I’mcertainthat all mendomasturbate. So that doesn’t seem entirely fair to hold against him.
But I think I’m mostly mad at the fact that I still want him, but every time I try to get some alone time for us, it falls through. I’m really starting to take it personally. And when he promised to come back to me, and I woke to find him getting off to the picture of some chick who is all the things I amnotanymore (largely thanks to him and those pregnancies), I think it broke my will to fight for us. I feel venomous, this burning thing deep within me trying to claw its way free, and I’m scared it’s going to do some serious damage by the time it gets out.
I grit my teeth in irritation at the feel of the wetness between my legs he’s left me with. It’s ridiculous that despite my anger with him he can still create such a potent reaction within a matter of seconds.Stupid fucking muscle memory.
That’s one of the hardest parts about this…rut…we’re in. I have almost a decade and a half of good memories with him, and I want to make more of them so bad, but I can’t look past this growing divide between us and pretend like things are okay when they’re not. They’re so fucking not.
Stay strong, Christina. He’s not going to get back in your pants that easily.
I reinforce those tough shields I keep up to protect my gooey center and head out to one of my favorite places on Earth, determined to have a reason to smile again.
* * *
It’s seriouslylike a dimension to another portal walking through these doors. I come in here for forty-dollars’ worth of necessities and leave with three-hundred-dollars’ worth ofabsolutenecessities (if I’m lucky). I don’t understand what is in the air at Target, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’ve manufactured the exact hormone that affects our snap buying judgment and pump it through the vents here. Did Ineeda seventh reusable water bottle before I got here? No. I don’t even know where I’d put it. But now that I’m here, all I know is I can’t leave the store without it.
My head is still running nonstop after that last exchange with Chance, and I pause my strolling in the baby section to text for reinforcements.
Me
I need some face to face time with you! ASAP! Margaritas tonight?
That Bitch
You know what tonight is.
You’d pick that over your best friend of more than 20 years?!
… You could come with me ya know? Standing open invitation.
Ew, never. Nothing is urgent enough to get me out with you on your Thursday night sacrilegious routine.
