And mine too. All I could think about was how Ellis and I were only a month into his deployment, and everything seemed to have started falling apart already.
Chapter 12: Natalia
It’d been exactly four days since Presley’s revelation about Hollis had come to the surface. Although I never heard from him again, Kelli confirmed that he did live at cul-de-sac on her street.
“Come to think of it,” she said. “He’s been there since March. I just never knew who he was until he moved in. And I thought nothing of never seeing his wife, because we both know it’s not uncommon for spouses to live apart sometimes.”
I don’t remember when I finally went to sleep that night. But I woke up on the couch, covered in a blanket, eyes puffy. Kelli left a note saying she’d taken Jordan to school and to get some rest.
I called out of work the next day, and spent its entirety staring at the wall, wondering how I got to this point in my life. I threw up several times over the course of that day. Eventually, I had made myself so sick with grief Kelli had to take me to the emergent care, and I got a sick note to stay home for several days.
“Kelli, I need the money!” I moaned. “I can’t stay home.”
“You need to get yourself together and rest,” she countered. “Money is not an issue for you right now.”
On the way back from the doctor, Kelli informed me that I was simply dealing with the grief and shock, and needed as much time as possible before I put myself back into the world.
“But even then, I don’t know how I’ll be,” I said. How could I pretend everything was okay in my life when my husband was having an affair? How could I smile and be joyful? How could I move forward?
As if she heard every thought I had, Kelli patted my arm. “Just put one foot in front of the other, and move one step at a time.”
Chapter 13: Natalia
Every day was more miserable than the last. The heat bore down so much, and I couldn’t stand to look outside. I felt like a prisoner trapped in my own home, and trapped in a life I couldn’t recognize. My headaches lasted continuously throughout the day, no matter what I took. I stopped cooking and eating; I resumed letting Jordan order whatever he wanted for dinner.
You know Hollis didn’t come home that night at all? He didn’t come home until late the next day. When Jordan asked him where he was, he claimed to have been at work the entire 24 hours.
Jordan trailed him to the bedroom, where I had been laying, hugged him and said, “Dad, I miss you, but I want to say you’re awesome! You’re my hero and I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
I smiled, wanting to be touched by that endearing father-son moment, but inwardly I was sick to my stomach. If he knew the truth about his dad’s behavior, he’d be thinking something very different. That man was anywhere but at work. Of course, this being our son, he was too young to be dragged into this, so I didn’t say anything. I just continued to be sick and allow Hollis’ reign of silence against me continue.
Hollis appeased his son with promises to shoot hoops, before telling him to give him a moment. Jordan ran off, happily. I watched TV silently, when he addressed me.
“Why are you in bed?”
“I’m sick.”
“From what?”
You, asshole. “Some kind of stomach bug.”
He stood there for a moment, as if quietly processing what I had said. The energy between us was still tense. There was a tinge of something else accompanying it, though, a current of explosion ready to detonate at a moment’s notice. I wondered if he was going to tell me he knew why I was really sick. I wondered if Presley confronted him in any way when he returned home with my husband in his bed.
I wanted to confront him, ask him how Presley was doing, and tell him I knew everything. But my head pounded severely, beating me into paralysis, and earlier, in one of my saner moments, I promised myself that I would not make a scene or trigger that man while Jordan was around. That I’d confront him in a more logical manner once I could control my emotions.
Hollis said nothing more as he changed out of his clothes and into some joggers and a tank top. For someone who hadn’t showered in 24 hours, he certainly didn’t seem to worry about running into the bathroom to wash up. That was another indication he was lying, because Lord knows Hollis was a hygiene freak.
Does he have his own toiletries at Presley’s house? Did he buy them, or did Presley? Do they take showers together and make out like we used to? Did Presley make him breakfast this morning?
***
I mustered the strength to get out of bed on Sunday. The library was closed, so I didn’t need to work. Hollis and Jordan were at Kelli and Kristophe’s.