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Why?
“Baby girl? Where did you go?” he asks when I grow silent.
“Umm . . . nowhere. I’m right here. But you, dear husband, need to get going if you want to keep your promise,” I bluff, forcing excitement into my voice.
I read the uncertainty in his eyes, and just as he’s fond of doing when my concerns arise, I pull him down to me and kiss him like it will be our last. He surrenders to my kiss, his tongue seeking refuge in my mouth. My heart flutters in my chest as he pulls my lower lip between his teeth, his cock now stabbing at my belly.
“Nope, none of that,” I tease, slapping his shoulder and squirming away from him. “Go and take your shower before I really make you late for work.”
When a genuine smile crests his lips, I know all his doubts and worries have vanished. He pulls himself off me, but not before throwing a suggestive wink over his shoulder.
“Go!” I laugh, tossing a pillow at him.
He chuckles all the way back to the bathroom, but as soon as I hear the shower running, my own smile slips off my face.
There is a reason why I haven’t been able to open up to Alaric and tell him how I feel, and that falls down to the sick feeling in my gut that he’s keeping secrets from me. Since I’ve known him, my husband hasn’t been the most forthcoming with information about himself, but he’s never once lied to me before last week.
When Zoey broke her arm and I confronted him about the blood on his sleeve, it was the first time he ever lied to my face. I need to know why. Nervous that I’m really doing this, I jump off the bed and walk to his bedside table where his work and home phone is. I have no way of knowing what his work phone’s password is, but I know the one he uses to call Zoey and me by heart.
It’s our wedding day.
I punch the numbers in, my nerves making me tremble as I download the Find My Friends app onto his phone. What I’m doing comes with a risk. Alaric might see it on his phone and question why I put it there. A private man like himself won’t find it particularly funny that his wife of just a couple of months went through his things without permission, but it’s a risk I have to take if I want answers. It’s become painfully obvious that Alaric will not give them to me willingly, so if I have to succumb to stalking my husband to learn more about him, then so be it.
Once I’ve made sure that the phone is put back in its original place, I grab my robe and dash downstairs to make breakfast, acting like this is just a normal mundane Tuesday. On autopilot, I whip up some scrambled eggs, fried bacon, and chopped fruit while inwardly praying he doesn’t pick up on my deceitful plan.
I’m probably blowing things out of proportion, and there is nothing for me to be worried about, but that sinking feeling in my gut refuses to let me back out now.
Both Zoey and Alaric arrive in the kitchen at the same time, animatedly talking about the movie we watched last night. I kiss my baby sister on the cheek then do the same to Alaric before telling them I’m going to dress so I can take Zoey to school.
I rush upstairs, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest as I close the door behind me. My eyes land on the bedside table, and I see that both phones are no longer there. I bang my head against the door, knowing there is no turning back now.
“Snap out of it, Layla. You need to know,” I tell myself, but the pep talk does nothing to stop the ill feeling in my stomach.
Without a minute to lose, I get dressed in jeans and a simple sweater, brush my hair back into a ponytail, and add some mascara. Glancing at my reflection, I’m amazed at how put together I look while I’m a ball of nerves inside. I relax my shoulders and walk back downstairs. Alaric is already putting his and Zoey’s plates into the dishwasher.
I’m a fool.
This thoughtful, caring man isn’t hiding anything from me.
I’m just the paranoid idiot that can’t accept a good thing when she gets it.
Oblivious of my self-deprecating thoughts, Alaric strolls toward me, puts his hand on my waist, and leans in to whisper in my ear.
“I’ll be home around lunchtime. Make sure my favorite meal is ready for me. I want to see you naked on this counter with your legs spread wide so I can feast on your pretty pink pussy.”
With that mental picture in my head, he cups my cheeks and kisses me until I have to lean against the counter just so my knees don’t buckle. He grabs my ass and groans before passing me, kissing Zoey on the top of her head, and wishing us a good day.
I’m not sure if my pulse is beating madly due to the kiss or what I’m about to do next.
“Layla, is everything okay? You have a weird look on your face,” Zoey observes, her curious gaze unsettling me further.
“Everything is fine, but it won’t be if you’re late for class. Come on. Chop-chop.” I clap my hands to drive the point home.
Luckily for me, Zoey does as she’s told, and within five minutes, we are both out the door. She goes on a tangent about school and her new friends, and I nod and hum every so often so she thinks I’m listening. I’m ashamed to say that I’m not, but I don’t want to let on about what’s truly going through my mind either. Once we reach St. Augustine’s, I wave her off with a wide smile and wish her a good day. The minute she’s gone, my smile falters, and I walk home, rethinking this whole plan.
I must be losing it.
What am I thinking?
