Holding Onto His Distorted Love

I knew the second I walked through the door something was different in the feel of my house. The welcome I always feel when coming home after a business trip was missing.

I was so exhausted. I'd worked long hours to win the account to put our business on top. All documents were signed and everything was tied up neatly. I'd won and most importantly, I'd finished a day early. I could go home and surprise Bray. I missed my husband of 5 years. I wanted to rush home as quickly as possible. I knew it'd be late and Bray would be in the bed. I just wanted to slip quietly in our bed with you. Bray would roll over and take me in his arms. He'd stroke my hair until I fell asleep.

My mind is racing with possible reasons for my anxiety. The closer I get to our bedroom, the heavier the air felt. My legs seemed to weigh 100 lbs each. It gave me the feeling of what it must be like to walk through quicksand.

As I was trying to process these feelings, I heard the first sounds. I thought I'd imagined those sounds at first. I stopped. My body rocked back and forth like I had run into a steel wall. Then, I heard it again. The sounds of two lovers quietly speaking, loving and touching ripped through my ears and a shiny steel arrow plunged into my heart. It took all my strength to stand upright.

The lovers were confident in not being caught. The door stood ajar. I became an icicle. I stood in that spot, frozen with absolute bone chilling fear. I knew my fears would be realized as soon as I pushed the door. I stood there long enough that the sounds became sleep sounds. The lovers surely had enough of each other for a while and sleep claimed them.

I listened for what seemed like an eternity. When I could hear Bray's deep even breathing and her soft sighs, I gathered my courage and pushed the door softly. I knew I had to see the betrayal. If I saw it, I wouldn't have to drive myself crazy thinking about them. All I could do was stand there immobile trying to form coherent thoughts.

It was the sounds changing yet again that brought me to my senses. I could hear the mattress giving with their weight as one of them turned over. Then I hear Bray's voice, deep, sleep filled and sexy say, "go back to sleep," ever so tenderly. I wasn't aware that my heart could shatter any more. The pieces were many and repair was beyond comprehension.

I am thinking, "how do I move forward? What should I do now? Do I confront them or do I hold back? An inner voice whispered to me, "you must push open that door to see, be witness to your husband's betrayal."

The deep even breathing returned once more. Sleep had taken over once again. Gently, I touched the face of the door. The door that we picked out together at a flea market in the mountains of North Carolina. I rubbed my fingers, then my hand over that old glossy wood Bray and I painstakingly restored together.

Finally, the first tear fell, then another and another until I couldn't see clearly. Blinking rapidly to clear my eyes, I had to see the betrayal taking place in our bed, in our home. My hand, still caressing the wood, gave a gentle push. The door was heavy and didn't move much, but it was enough.

I didn't have to imagine the nightmare any more. It was all splayed out in front of me. The tears fell faster, silently down my cheeks and dropping to my shirt.

Chapter 2 Facing Reality

I felt like I was the star of a daily romance novel or a drama on television. This was actually happening to me. I was witnessing my husband committing adultery with... who is this woman? At least it's not one of my friends. I've never seen her before. Wait! Is it the new personal assistant hired for us? She has to know he's a married man. Does she even care?