Page 8 of Say You Love Me

She lifts those brown eyes, the ones that I’ve got lost in so many times before, and blinks away tears.

“Hudson…”

I walk away before she can continue. The stairs creak as I climb them. The room is cold and empty, the same as it has been for weeks now. I tear off my shirt and wrestle my jeans down my legs, leaving them on the floor as I slide into bed, but I don’t fall asleep.

Our house is an old restored villa. It creaks and groans. It breathes. Through the floorboards, I hear the gentle murmur of the TV. She’s flicking through the channels but she doesn’t settle on one and soon the house falls to silence. I count the creaks as she climbs up the stairs and make sure I’m turned away when the door pushes open. She’s quiet as she moves around the room, pulling the curtains open just the slightest bit so she can see by the light of the moon. When she disappears into the bathroom, I allow myself to breathe. She leaves the bathroom door open slightly, and light falls across the floor. I tell myself not to look. I tell myself to steel against her, but my body betrays me and my gaze rises to peek at her through the open crack.

She stands in front of the mirror, staring at herself. It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking. There’s no expression on her face. I don’t know if she’s happy to be home or if she still wishes she was trapped between the walls of the wellness center. Slowly, she starts to take off her clothing. She peels off each layer and then stops to stare in the mirror. She’s still wearing her jeans, but her chest is bare. My eyes slide over her exposed skin and my dick betrays me by twitching in response.

Her eyes are empty as she stares at her reflection. I wish I knew whether she hated herself. I wish I knew whether she’s forgiven herself. But to know those things, I’d have to ask.She bends as she pushes her jeans over her hips and her backside is exposed. She’s wearing the type of underwear that rises up her ass, her plump cheeks peeking out from below the lace.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt her touch. So long since I’ve run my fingers over her skin. I close my eyes and try not to think of her smooth flesh. I try not to think of her bent over the bed, of her kneeling on the ground…

The sound of running water brings me back to reality. Finity is dressed in an oversized nightshirt now, splashing water on her face. The nightshirt seems even bigger than it did before. She’s lost weight. Weight she couldn’t afford to lose. Before, Finity was the picture of health and vitality. Now she looks drawn, her skin stretched over her body as though it were two sizes too small.

My back is to her when she slips under the covers. She pulls them tightly to her chin, warding off the cold. She’s always liked the weight of the blankets. She can’t sleep without them. Even in the middle of summer, when I’m stretched out over the bed with only the sheet to cover me, and sometimes not even a sheet, Finity keeps the covers spread across her. Before, on a night like this, she would have huddled into my side, stealing the warmth from my body. Her feet would have entwined with my legs. I would have moaned and complained but secretly, I loved the fact that I was the one who provided her with warmth. Any excuse to have her body pressed against mine.

Nowit feels like there’s a canyon between us, a chasm of unspoken accusations. I imagine what would happen if we rolled over. If we touched. If we said the things that were on our minds. I close my eyes and think of what it would be like if we allowed ourselves the comfort of each other.

Could I lose myself in her like I used to?

We stay with our backs to each other. I know she isn’t asleep because her breathing is too erratic. And when the bed shakes under her shudder, I know she is crying. But I pretend I don’t. I pretend to be asleep until my pretense becomes a reality.

In the morning I rise before she does. I never used to be an early riser, preferring to take refuge in the arms of my wife for as long as possible, but now there’s an energy buzzing inside me that needs to be released. Creeping out of the bedroom, I pull on my shorts, a t-shirt, and my running shoes and soon my feet are pounding the pavement.

We live in a small town. A small wealthy town. It is the same town I was raised in, the same town my parents live, the same town all my friends live.We moved here from the city when I decided I was over being a lawyer. I needed a change of pace, a change of life, and coming home was the most appealing option. But it was hard on Finity. It took her away from the only family she had, the only people she knew. I thought she would fit in easily with my friends, find companions among their wives and partners. I was wrong.

Everything went wrong after we moved here.

There’s a layer of frost covering the grass at the edge of the river. Liam is late so I jog on the spot, my breath coming out in white puffs. I should have worn something more than a t-shirt and shorts today, but I didn’t want to disturb Finity. It’s too hard with her looking at me the way she does.

When Liam finally rounds the corner, he’s towing some sort of rag on a leash.

I let out a chuckle. “What the fuck is that supposed to be?”

He gives me a deadpan glare, his lips turning white as he clenches his teeth together. He sort of holds the leash in front of him as though it has a life of its own. The rag on the end scuttles across the ground, a small black nose appearing to sniff everything within its reach as it strains at its collar.

I laugh and bend down to hold my hand out to the thing that is supposed to be a dog. “Hey, dude.”

“It’s a girl. Pekingese.”

I lift my brows. The dog is covered in some sort of coarse brown, black and white hair that resembles the matted end of a mop. Its eyes are spaced wide apart and it looks like someone smashed its face in with a shovel. The dog sniffs my hand before deciding I’m of little interest and wanders away, its tail lopsidedly tipping back and forth.

“Strange name.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “That’s the breed, you dumb fuck. Hudson meet Sookie. Sookie this is your uncle Hudson.”

“There is no way I’m an uncle to that thing.”

“Well Megan keeps calling me daddy in front of it, so if she has anything to do with it, you’re going to have no choice in the matter.”

“Daddy?” I smirk.

Liam holds up his hand. “Don’t go there.”

Without a word we start jogging down the river. For the past few weeks we’ve taken the same path, run the same distance and finished around the same time. But, from the number of times Liam has to stop and jerk on the lead in order to get Sookie to run beside us, this time it’s going to take longer.

“So what inspired the dog?”

---