“Me too. Everything will be all right, Darren. Trust me,” She promised.
Her comforting words didn’t help because I couldn’t imagine everything being all right ever again.
OUR HOME WAS SILENTas I walked through one side of our massive double doors. Eerily silent in a house usually filled with children’s chatter, the sounds of a radio or TV, or Carter’s booming voice. I’d entered the eye of the storm. Deceptively calm and peaceful. The moment when we believed that the storm spared us and that our lives wouldn’t have to change. Then, the worst of the storm always came after. Our talk would not begin pretty. It would probably not end so, either. I instinctively knew where to find him. The room where he would feel the most powerful and dominant.
My husband was an alpha male through and through. His home, his children, and his wife were his domain. We were his more than he was ours. For years, I followed him blindly, and for years, he’d used my submissiveness and belief in him to do whatever the fuck he wanted. He’d been wise to keep the children and me happy, so I wouldn’t question him. Smart to stick to a schedule when he wasn’t playing football because his career allowed for plausible explanations for his absences over the years. Carter probably had set up Chelsea and her son nicely in Texas. My ex-friend grew up with money and only dated menwho could maintain the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She wouldn’t mind being the side chick if it meant she could live well and be free to date whoever she wanted.
With a rapidly beating heart, I walked through our exquisitely decorated twenty-five-room mansion that we’d spent countless hours decorating together to create a warm and loving home. We’d been here for four years; this was the only house the children knew. Once the walls crumbled and all facades dissipated in the air, would I still want to be in the house I thought love built?
My husband was a handsome, intelligent, famous quarterback on a popular NFL team. A man whom the world saw as a dedicated husband and a family man. I was the lucky one. I was living every woman’s fantasy. Even as I headed toward my day of reckoning, my soul finally spoke that no matter what he said or knew about Grey and me, Carter wouldn’t leave me. He wanted to be that ideal husband and father. He needed that image for our extended families and the world to embrace. Carter had promised himself, as a boy, that he would be a provider and a protector for his wife and children. He would be the head of his household, and his family would be strong. Although we might fight and distrust each other moving forward, I did not doubt that Carter was in this marriage for life. I could live this life with him as my husband until death do us part. He would never leave me for Chelsea or any woman. His loyalty lay with me.
I wasn’t Carter.
I needed the real and not the image. If I remained in love with him after the dust settled and we could be real with each other, our marriage may survive. If we couldn’t be honest with each other, I no longer wanted to be Mrs. St. Patrick. I no longer desired to sacrifice my personal happiness for the sake of our family.
Stepping down into his trophy room, where all his awards and accomplishments were kept, I glanced at the magnificent and powerful photo of him in his Rams uniform with his helmet in hand that graced one wall. I swooned the first time he proudly displayed the photograph, capturing his strength, determination, and his natural swagger. Carter stood across from his photo in the pristine white room at the handcrafted crystal and diamond bar, nursing a drink. The children weren’t allowed in here. This was Carter’s realm. He regarded me suspiciously when I entered. Scowl and glare intact. Of the two of us, he was the most fiery and emotional. I could be slow to anger and better at hiding my true feelings.
Carter’s shirt was half undone, and he pulled it out of his slacks. His temple pounded, and tension radiated from every pore. He made no effort to hide that he was disturbed. His appearance prompted Elle to call me. The team traveled in suits, and he must have been prepared to fly when he had second thoughts about leaving me at home with my allegations about Chelsea and her son swirling in my head. He probably rushed home, frantic, to talk to me, and when I wasn’t here, he filled in the blanks of how I found out. Or maybe he did hear Grey’s voice comforting me. The frantic desire to show remorse and apologize for misbehavior became rageful jealousy.
We warily watched each other, and he took a slow sip of his brown liquor. My stomach ached in agony and anticipation of what would be said if he finally told me the truth.How would he react when I told him Grey knew and would meet Elle tomorrow?He looked down at his glass before slamming it down. The liquor sloshed over the bar, and he stalked towards me like a sleek panther until I was forced to hold my head back to see his smoldering dark brown eyes. “Did you enjoy your birthday fuck?”
I defiantly replied, “As much as you enjoyed Chelsea and whoever else you’ve fucked over the years.”
He jabbed his hand in my face, and I refused to take a step back. “You are still my muthafucking wife.”
“And you were my husband when you fucked Chelsea.”
“Is that what that little bitch told you?” He sneered.
I snorted, “Which bitch? The one you’ve been fucking since college?”
“The one you just fucked. I can smell him all over you.”
Folding my arms, I smiled. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to shower like you did. Now what?”
Carter snatched my t-shirt, his strength practically lifting me off my feet. “Did you fuck him?”
I continued to glare at him. Unfazed by his laughable anger and indignation. “Does that change how you see me? Huh? Does fucking him end our marriage? Can you forgive me like you expect me to forgive you?”
He pushed me away from him, and I had to regain my bearings to stop myself from falling back. “Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house.”
I shook my head. “This is my house too. We’ll be the war of the roses in this bitch.” I moved close to him again. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I didn’t have sex with Grey, though I desperately wanted to. I didn’t because I wanted to honor our vows, and if I did, I would only be doing it to take away the pain you’ve caused us. Grey doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
His nostrils flared, and he hoarsely asked, “Did you tell him about Elle?”
“I wasn’t until you and I spoke about it. But yes, Grey knows.”
“We agreed never to tell him. You told him about my baby to get back at me? How could you?” He thundered.
I held up my hands, palms up. “No... Elle called me because she hates it when you’re upset. He saw my phone and her pic and demanded answers. I had no choice except to tell him the truth. He was understandably pissed and demanded to see her.”
“You’re not taking my daughter from me.” He growled. “I’ll use every last dime of my money to keep her.”
His eyes may have flashed anger, but I depicted the fear and hurt behind his threat and reassured him, “No one will take her from you. Still, we have to face the fact that she is his, too. We’re going to ease Elle into knowing the truth. He wants to see her, and I’m not stopping him. He was devastated, Carter. Made him feel low that I didn’t think enough of him to tell him that he had a child in this world. And I kept Elle from him out of respect for your love for her...to show my gratitude for your loyalty, and we were so very wrong. We have to make things right.”
His breathing increased as he listened to me. “I don’t have to do shit but be black and die. I’m the only father she knows, and it'll remain that way.” He stalked back to the bar and picked up a bottle. “Trying to get at me about something you know nothing about. Letting that half-nigga tell you lies to get you back.”
I cringed at the insult he hurled about Grey and shouted, “Keep his name out of your mouth. Don’t you ever speak about him that way. Ever.”
Carter’s lips curled. “You mean the truth?”
“You don’t know the meaning of the truth, and I swear neither of us is going to bed until you finally know the definition.” Grabbing the end of his shirt before he tried to evade me, I came out swinging. “Did you fuck Chelsea the night before my 21st birthday?”
He gritted his teeth like he wanted to spit before he slowly nodded.
