Every Wrong Reason

  His body was insane. It had always been like this. From the first day I met him.

  If attraction were everything, we never would have had a problem.

  He caught me staring and warned, “Don’t laugh at me. They’re all I could dig up.”

  “I wouldn’t laugh at you,” I promised. “I might laugh at your shorty-shorts. But don’t take it personally.”

  His bark of laughter was unexpected and I couldn’t help but smile. “Did you call for the pizza?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it should be here in twenty minutes or so.”

  “Do you… do you want to watch something while we’re waiting?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip to keep from agreeing, but my head nodded anyway.

  One corner of his mouth curled in a crooked smile, “Good. Jared doesn’t have cable and I’ve missed our shows.”

  Before I could respond to that or remind him that they were no longer our shows, he turned around and headed for the living room. I picked up the plate of cheese and followed after him.

  I felt surreal as we walked into the living room; it was almost an out of body experience. I was too nervous about the situation, too wired. This was my ex-husband. Or, soon to be anyway. Why were we hanging out?

  Why were we being nice to each other?

  Why were things finally coming together for us?

  Maybe we really were better friends. Maybe we had to get out of our marriage in order to appreciate the other person for who he or she was.

  Our living room wasn’t large. Nick’s huge TV hung on one wall with our entertainment console situated beneath. The TV was too big for the room and I had always told him that. But boys and their toys and all that. Especially electronics. There had been no talking him out of it.

  I had been in charge of decorating the other half. We had a long, comfy gray couch against the opposite wall that was flanked by two mustard-colored wing-backed chairs. It looked really cute, but to be honest, the wing-backed chairs weren’t really comfortable so we never used them.

  A coffee table sat in front of the couch, low and practical. I had rescued it from Goodwill and Nick had refinished it for me and painted it gray. It was my favorite piece on the main floor.

  Both of us settled on the couch, as far from each other as we could. Nick assumed control of the remote, which was fine with me because I was having trouble concentrating and I would have been useless to pick something out.

  I still couldn’t believe this was happening. I was spending my Friday night hanging out with my ex-husband.

  Nick pushed buttons that took him to the DVR list and I held my breath. This was a secret I didn’t want him to know. This was a part of our separation that was so silly and unexplainable that I actually felt ashamed.

  “You haven’t watched any of these?” The yellow cursor highlighted one of the shows we always watched together… one of the shows I couldn’t bring myself to watch without him. “Or this one?” He continued to flip through the DVR while I shrunk into myself, unable to meet his eye or offer an explanation. Finally, I felt his gaze on me. The intensity of his stare burned into my skin, leaving permanent scars and disfigurement of my soul. “Kate, why didn’t you watch any of these? What were you waiting for?”

  For you to come back, my mind whispered.

  “I haven’t had time,” I said instead. “I’ve been really busy. It’s been a really hard school year. And I-” The doorbell rang, saving me from rambling more excuses.

  I jumped up from the couch and practically ran for the door. I swung it open, surprising the poor delivery guy on the other side.

  He laughed nervously and mumbled, “Whoa.”

  I closed my eyes for a brief second and desperately tried to pull myself together. “Hi. Sorry.”

  “You ordered pizza?” he asked needlessly. He opened his red warming case and showed me the two medium pizzas and order of breadsticks. “Twenty-three, thirty-eight.”

  “Oh, right.” In my flight to get to the front door, I forgot to grab my purse. “Hold on a sec.”

  “I got it,” Nick said from behind me. He reached around my waist, grazing my side as he went and handed the guy some cash. “That’s all yours.” I could hear the polite smile in Nick’s voice as I stood there frozen and confused.

  The guy held the pizzas out to me and I jerked forward, taking them awkwardly. “Thanks,” I mumbled, but he was already headed back to his car.

  I stepped back in the house and whirled around. “I thought I owed you dinner. You know, for helping me around the house.”

  He tugged on his earlobe and wouldn’t quite meet my eyes when he said, “Yeah, well you can pay me back a different day. The pizza is my treat.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing. There was nothing in my brain.

  “It’s just pizza, Kate.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He barely acknowledged it. “I’ll grab plates. You take all that to the couch.”

  “Okay.”

  I moved robotically through the living room and set the pizzas on the coffee table. I’d ordered him his meat lovers with extra mushrooms and olives. I’d gotten a supreme pizza for myself- no olives or mushrooms, extra tomatoes. I set the breadsticks in the middle.

  I had just sat down when he came back holding plates, napkins and two bottles of beer. “Is this okay?” He lifted the beer in my direction.

  “It’s fine.” I didn’t honestly know if drinking around Nick was the best idea tonight, but surely one beer wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would relax me. I desperately needed something to take this sharp edge off.

  He handed me my beer and a plate with a smile, then plopped down in his seat, a little closer to me than the first time. I took a breath and ordered my mind to stop reading into every little thing. It was so stupid.

  I was so stupid.

  “Nice,” he grinned at his pizza. “Why didn’t we think of this forever ago?”

  I scooted forward, a little closer to him too, but just so I could reach the food. “I think I was trying to make a point. It’s dumb, right?”

  He gave me a sideways look and a crooked smile. “I can’t confirm that it’s dumb because then I’d have to admit to being dumb too. I have too much ego for that.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, but he elbowed me in the side and I let it go, grinning at him and shaking my head. “We can be idiots.”

  I thought he would laugh or smile or do anything but sober up completely and stare at me with that hot, penetrating emotion that seemed to follow him around everywhere tonight. “We can be,” he said in a low voice.

  I turned back to the TV and took a big bite of pizza. Why did he make me so nervous tonight? Why did his words feel so ominous?

  He picked one of our shows to watch, one that we were super far behind in since we’d spent so many months not watching it and we dug into our pizza.

  We didn’t talk much as the show went on, just mostly ate in silence.

  At some point I realized he didn’t have a date with someone else tonight. My insane jealous was for nothing. I decided to ignore the intense relief that flooded my body from head to toe.

  I tried to tamp my relief by reminding myself that he would eventually start dating.

  I would have to face it eventually.

  Eventually.

  But not tonight.

  “Another one?” he asked as that show ended and he grabbed another piece of pizza.

  “Sure,” I whispered.

  Late evening turned into night as we spent another hour quiet and involved in our show. Occasionally he would make a comment or I would gasp in surprise, but mostly our interaction dealt with the pizza that was slowly disappearing in front of us.

  After another show, he paused the TV to use the restroom and grab another beer. When he came back into the room, he flicked the lights off and settled in the middle of the couch without asking permission or checking to see if it was okay.

  I didn’
t know why, but I didn’t object or even make a comment.

  After the next episode had ended, he said, “You know, if you’re not watching this without me, we should probably watch another one. Just in case, we don’t get to find out what happens.”

  “That’s a good point,” I conceded.

  He turned his head toward me and captured my gaze. For a minute, we just stared at each other. Nothing was said. Nothing was thought. I wasn’t even sure I took a breath.

  I wasn’t sure I could have taken a breath if I tried.

  He leaned over, bringing his body closer to mine. We had somehow managed to scoot closer and closer during the night. Now, I could feel the warmth of his body. Sometimes if he moved, his leg would press into mine for just a brief moment or his elbow would graze my arm.

  I could smell him again.

  And it was intoxicating.

  I licked my dry lips and tried to find sanity… rationalization. I tried to remember our divorce or what had led up to it. I tried to argue my way out of this craziness I’d walked into willingly.

  “Kate,” he whispered and his voice went straight to my heart, straight to my core.

  Afraid of this moment, of our truce, of every single thing about him, I turned back to the TV and gave it my attention. Or at least pretended to.

  I couldn’t see anything in front of me or comprehend what was going on. But I couldn’t face whatever it was that Nick wanted to say. I couldn’t stare at him for a second longer and not lose myself completely.

  He seemed to realize that I had shut down because he turned back to the show without another word.

  In fact, we didn’t speak to each other again for the rest of the night.

  I had been planning to ask him to leave after the next show, but there was a cliffhanger and I was desperate to find out what happened. The show kept going and going, we hadn’t watched it all summer and there were plenty of episodes to catch up on. Finally, I could focus on what was happening and not the man sitting next to me that I couldn’t untangle myself from.

  But my mind was never far from him.

  And apparently my body wasn’t either.

  I must have fallen asleep at some point because one second I had been blinking slowly, trying to stay involved with the plot, the next I felt fingers threading through my hair, brushing gently behind my ear.

  I inhaled a deep sigh at the caress, the luxurious feeling of being touched after not being touched for so long. Then I realized those fingers belonged to Nick. I realized I had stretched out on the couch and laid my head in his lap. I realized his other hand had settled on my waist and slipped beneath my shirt to press against the curve of my side.

  I steadied out my breathing and tried not to move. I couldn’t let him know I was awake. I couldn’t let him know I didn’t want to confront him about this.

  I was a coward.

  I was weak.

  I was so frustratingly confused.

  He shifted on the couch and I faked a sleepy stretch. His body stiffened beneath mine and I couldn’t tell if it was because he knew I was faking or he was embarrassed at getting caught.

  I kept my eyes closed and refused to open them. I would claim to be asleep until the end of my life. This was something I was willing to commit perjury over in front of a jury of my peers. You know, if I ever had to swear to this in court. I would never let him know I woke up.

  Finally, after endless moments, after I realized the TV wasn’t on anymore and we were sitting in the complete dark, he gently lifted me and stood up. I felt his presence as he hovered over me. I couldn’t have guessed what he was thinking or doing or not doing.

  He was, maybe for the first time since we first met, a complete and complex mystery to me.

  Just when I thought he would finally leave, he bent over and pressed a warm, familiar kiss to my temple.

  A whimper escaped my lips and my eyes squeezed tighter, giving me away, but still I refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what had just happened between us.

  He left a moment later. I heard his bare feet on the wood floor, his movements as he slipped into his shoes and gathered up his clothes, I heard the front door open, then close and his key as he locked the door behind him.

  I didn’t move the entire time.

  I didn’t move from the couch for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Ten

  17. We’re broken.

  I spent the rest of the weekend in a funk. I couldn’t concentrate on grading papers and when I tried to clean my house, I spontaneously burst into an uncontrollable sob fest that lasted until my voice was hoarse, I felt sick to my stomach and I had no more tears to cry.

  Officially, I was sick of myself.

  By the time I walked into my mom’s house Sunday afternoon, I couldn’t wait to start school on Monday so I could get away from me.

  That’s how desperate I was.

  I actually wanted to go back to work.

  I was tired of thinking. Tired of overanalyzing everything. Tired of blaming my heartbreak and failed marriage on Nick.

  I needed to take responsibility too.

  But I also hoped he never found out. I would take responsibility silently. I would take it and never tell him about it.

  Hopefully, one day, we would move on in separate directions. Hopefully, we could find the opportunity to heal.

  Until then… I just needed to get this over with as quickly as possible.

  I was early for Sunday luncheon. I hadn’t been able to take another breath in the suffocating memories of my house, so I escaped to a different sort of hell- my family.

  Josh and Emily weren’t here yet. In the living room, my dad was watching a football game, not the Bears, though, feet up and laid back in his worn recliner. He was far too relaxed for a Bears game to be on. The sight of him like that made me smile. It was so familiar… so home-like that I couldn’t help but pause in the doorway and grin at him.

  He looked up at me with heavily lidded eyes, as if he were just on the brink of falling asleep. “Hey, Kiddo.”

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “You’re early.”

  “I thought I’d help out today.”

  He smiled lazily and turned his attention back to the TV, “Your Ma will appreciate it.”

  “Need anything? Iced tea? Beer?”

  “Beer,” he grunted. “But don’t let your mother see.”

  I walked through the living room to the kitchen feeling more like myself than I had in months. Most of the time I couldn’t stand my family, but it was irritation born from love. I loved them fiercely. I just also got irritated with them fiercely.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said softly. I walked straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of beer and the pitcher of iced tea, hiding one behind the other. I put the iced tea on the counter and walked back into the living room to hand the beer to my dad. I let my purse drop on the couch and returned to the kitchen.

  Beer successfully delivered.

  Mission accomplished.

  “I saw that.” My mother didn’t lift her eyes from the sweet potatoes she was mashing.

  “Saw what?”

  She made a noise in the back of her throat but didn’t argue further. My dad opened his can and the click of metal and his subsequent, “Ah,” echoed through the house.

  My mother made another disgruntled snort.

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  “If it bothers you, you should say something,” I teased her.

  She threw me a look over her shoulder. “If I made it known every time your father did something that bothered me, we wouldn’t have made it through our first year of marriage.”

  “But if you said something now, he would listen to you.” For some reason, I couldn’t let it go. I had to make her see that she needed to stand up for herself. My dad wasn’t completely unreasonable. He would do what it took to keep the peace.

  “Katherine, your father has known who he is and what he’s wanted since the very first day I m
et him. If he wants to have a beer before lunch, by god, he is going to have one.” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up her spatula and silenced me. “I respect that. I respect him. I don’t have to like it, but I do have to trust him. And I trust him to take care of me, this family, and himself. That’s all I need.”

  Sufficiently chastised, all I could come up with was a soft, “Oh.”

  “But it would help if my children weren’t accomplices to his every heathen whim.”

  This time I laughed. “I thought I was sneaky enough to get away with it.”

  She gave me a pointed look over her shoulder, “Child, I see all. I know all.” My smile broke into a wide grin and I laughed until she said, “Now get over here and melt the butter so I can mix it with the marshmallows.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” But inside I was doing a happy dance because we were having sweet potatoes.

  Nick would have been so disappointed if he knew he missed my mother’s famous sweet potato casserole. It was his absolute favorite and she made it for him at least once a month.

  It was the only way we could convince him to keep coming back here for Sunday lunch.

  I shook my head of thoughts of Nick. Clearly I was having issues letting go of my marriage.

  Which was to be expected, right? We had been together for a long time. He had been engrained in my thoughts, tattooed on my soul, etched into my bones. Our relationship was the only adult relationship I knew. I was not used to making decisions without him. I had never spent so much time alone. And it had been a very long time since I had to deal with my family by myself.

  He had been by my side through so much that I physically couldn’t imagine my life without him.

  At the same time, I couldn’t imagine continuing to live with him or be with him or fight with him over every little thing.

  I was doing the right thing, it just took adjustment.

  I needed adjustment.

  A few minutes later Josh and Emily arrived with the girls and it felt like a hundred more people had shown up. The girls were everywhere, running around to say hi to everyone, asking for bites of food and in general, just being their cute, crazy selves.