Man Up Husband

  Man Up

  Husband

  Danielle Sibarium

  Man Up Husband

  First printing, 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Danielle Sibarium

  Cover art copyright © by CT Cover Creations

  Cover photograph copyright © by CT Cover Creation

  Book design by Danielle Sibarium

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  The persons and events portrayed in this work of fiction are the creations of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Published by: Platinum Crest Solutions, LLC

  Publisher’s Note: The author and publisher have taken care in preparation of this book but make no expressed or implied warranty of any kind and assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for incidental or consequential damages in connection with or arising out of the use of the information contained herein.

  Printed in the United States of America

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  For

  Liliana Rhodes. Without you this series wouldn’t exist. Thank you for your friendship and support.

  Chapter 1

  Marlena

  Rushing out to the back terrace, I lift the hem of my gown so I don't accidentally trip over it. My head is spinning. I feel like I had a lot too much to drink, when I only downed one glass of champagne for the toast to the bride and groom.

  I fight back the urge to cry, feeling like a combination of Cinderella rushing from the prince's arms and Quasimodo hiding from the population of France. Unlike in the tale of Cinderella, my prince isn't chasing after me. He's too busy flirting with a bride's maid to even notice I'm gone.

  And this is the reason I liken myself to Quasimodo. I'm not ugly or deformed, far from it. The public hasn't shunned me or sentenced me to isolation. Rather, it is my husband that is the culprit. Him and the long lustful stares he throws around to women when he thinks I'm not looking. He's the reason in addition to every other negative feeling I have about myself right now, I feel like I should go hide in a bell tower until the world, and my husband, forget I exist.

  Or I could play tit for tat and let him see how it feels. I could find hot guys to flirt with. I immediately think of one that would dig beneath Troy's skin and fester like a flesh-eating disease. But I won't. I don't want to cause problems for Cooper, and I'm not ready to end my marriage. The way Troy's been going ballistic anytime Cooper and I are in the same vicinity makes me think the latter is a real possibility.

  I take a deep breath, allowing the cool breeze to wash over me and help me come back to myself. It's so hot in the party room. And loud. How can you even hear the music when it's threatening to make your ears bleed? Maybe it's just too crowded in there? These are the bullshit things that get to me lately. I don't even know how or when it started.

  In high school and college, I'd go to parties packed with wall-to-wall bodies and still manage to dance until my clothes needed to be wrung out to dry. Now it gives me a bad headache. And once I get hot, I just want to throw my guts up.

  I pull my foot out of the ridiculously narrow shoe I'm wearing and tap it on the ground to get rid of the numb, tingling feeling. It doesn't actually work, but stepping on the cool ground feels good and helps break the heat flash I think is roasting me alive from the inside out. I slip my other foot out and close my eyes, glad for the slight breeze caressing my skin.

  I start coming back to myself when I hear a long, loud breath. I'm not alone any longer. I open my eyes, but no one is near me. At first I think I might have imagined it, but after craning my neck around, I spot him in the corner on the opposite side of the terrace, looking out into the bushes and trees beyond us.

  "Cooper?" I say, walking over as he uses his fingers to wipe at his eyes. Maybe the prick really does have a heart. "Are you crying?"

  "Oh, hey, Marlena," he answers, turning toward me and leaning against the half stone wall surrounding the patio. "What are you doing out here? You've got a baby-free night. You and Troy should be taking advantage of it."

  I turn away. I don't want him to see any space between Troy and me. If he does, he'll rub it in like salt in a wound. Instead, I turn it on him.

  "I could ask you the same. I know Jaxson is here, but with the way everyone is fawning over him, I'm sure you can sneak away with Selene for a few minutes."

  "I wish, but every time I get someone to hold him, Lexi drags her off."

  "How cute. She's showing off her sister-in-law."

  "Exactly. But I want to be the one to show off my wife."

  "Is that why you're crying?" I ask, using baby talk, like I sometimes do with Mia. "Are you having trouble sharing with Lexi?"

  "Fuck you," he says with a smile.

  "She's beautiful, by the way. Absolutely radiant," I say as I approach him and take a seat on the top of the wall.

  "I know how to keep my woman happy," he winks at me.

  "Idiot." I slap at his chest. "I meant the bride."

  Cooper's eyes shift to the side.

  "You're not still upset that she's with Noah, are you? They're so in love. You can see how they smolder every time they look at each other."

  "Of course not. I know he'll be good to her, and he already jumps through hoops to make her happy."

  "Then what's wrong?"

  He shrugs. "She doesn't need me anymore."

  "Aww, Cooper." I rub his arm. "She'll always need you. Maybe she felt the same way when you married Selene."

  "Nah," he teases. "She probably thought I needed her even more so I don't fuck up again."

  We laugh, and I think we're both feeling better.

  A cool wind blows. Even though I hug my arms around myself, I'm happy my skin no longer has that clammy feel to it.

  Cooper pulls the jacket to his tux off and motions to wrap it around my shoulders.

  "I'm good, thank you." I stick my hand out between us to stop him.

  "It's just a jacket, Marlena. I'd hope Troy would do the same if he were out here with Selene."

  "There you are!" Troy's voice cuts through the air.

  I offer my husband a fake smile as Cooper pulls his jacket away and slips it back on.

  "Hey."

  His eyes dart back and forth between Cooper and I. For a moment I think I notice a flash of anger, but it's gone before I can be sure. The air around us is oppressive and thick with tension.

  I need to get down and go back inside with Troy before he creates a scene. After the shit he said to me at home earlier, and then getting the front row seat of him fawning over Lexi's friend Allie, I'm not up for hearing anything that comes from my husband's mouth. I push myself off the wall, but instead of standing straight up, I feel like I'm on a tilt-a-whirl and start to fall.

  "Slow down, Marlena." Cooper's strong arms steady me. "I know you can't wait to get away from me and rush into Troy's arms, but you need to get your feet on the ground first." He smiles, and with his head, motions for Troy to come over.

  "I'm fine. Can you get your paws off me?"

  Cooper steps backwards, holding his hands up, palms facing me as he retreats. "No need to sharpen those claws, I'm out of here."

  "Are you alright?" I feel Troy's hands on either side of my waist.

  "Fine." I snap back and look away. "You know him, always trying to make himself out to be some sort of hero."

  "No, Marlena, he doesn't do that." Troy sighs, "The girls that fall for him do."

  Anger causes a surge of h
eat to flare into my cheeks. Asshole. I should've known better than to speak. Anything I say about Cooper, Troy manages to twist and throw back at me. This is one more thing he's going to use in accusing me of holding a torch for the one man my husband seems to be jealous of.

  Not wanting to be touched by him, I remove Troy's hands from my waist. Refusing to let go, he pulls me back before I can make my escape.

  "Wait." He smiles at me. "Have I told you how gorgeous you look?" he asks, bringing his mouth to my ear, his voice soft and velvety. Not at all what I expected. It throws me off my game. I'm confused.

  I shake my head and let my eyes drop to the ground. I waited for him to say something before we left the house. He didn't. All he noticed was that I left the gift for Noah and Lexi in the refrigerator. I close my eyes as I recall every shitty thing he said to me after finding it there.

  "How can I trust you to take care of our daughter when you're so fucking irresponsible, you can't even keep track of an envelope? Is it because Cooper's going to be there? Is that why you're so distracted?"

  "Fuck you, Troy. I can't fucking stand when you get like this."

  "I can't stand when you're so busy replaying your hook up with Cooper that there's not room for anything else in your head."

  He stomped off, out of the house, and into the car. We didn't speak at all after that. Not on the ride to the church. Not in the church. We haven't said one word to each other since.

  Until now.

  And what kills me is that it's all over Cooper. His friend Cooper that I can't even stomach being around most of the time. Yes, I hooked up with Cooper, but it was before I met Troy, and I hate that he constantly reminds me of one of the worst days of my life.

  Troy's hands reach up and rest on either side of my face as his dark, soulful eyes search mine. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean anything I said earlier. I was frustrated."

  "Sorry?" My eyes tear up and my voice cracks. He's acting like that one word is a wave of a magic wand that can take away all the insult and injury his earlier words caused. There's so much I want to say, but I can't get the stupid words out.

  "I was a jerk," he offers, inching closer. "Let me make it up to you."

  His lips are closing in on me, but I don't want them to. I don't want him kissing or touching me. If he can accuse me of wanting to have an affair with his friend, I just want the hell away from him. I turn my head.

  "Don't."

  "Please, Marlena. I didn't mean it. I know that's what's bothering you. You've barely even looked at me since."

  Funny he knows me that well and still accuses me of wanting Cooper.

  "We should go inside." I step back, creating a little distance between us, waiting for him to let me go.

  Troy clears his throat as he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my face back toward him. "What do you say we don't go home tonight?"

  I look at him, confused. Don't go home? Or don't go home together? Three times in the last month, the word divorce poked its way into our arguments. Is that what he's after, a hall pass? A taste of the single life?

  I hate that things are so strained between us. We never used to argue. I remember even up until six months ago, I could feel the love in his eyes when he looked at me. Now, when he looks at me, I feel like he wonders what happened to the girl he fell in love with. I don't blame him. I often wonder the same thing.

  Troy turns away, looking defeated, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Forget it."

  I hear the frustration in his voice, and I don't want to argue. I want to let down the walls surrounding my heart and just put everything that happened earlier behind me, but no matter how hard I try, I can't. I feel betrayed. And it's not just because of today.

  I want the sweet, understanding man I fell in love with back. I wonder if he's still in there somewhere, or if I drove him off for good. I drink in how his chestnut eyes reflect the moonlight, and I'm struck by how handsome he is in his tuxedo.

  This is when I realize that I don't want to fight with him. I want to waken the fight up in him. Or rather, I want him to fight for me, for us. I need him to care enough about us to break through the walls around my heart, to smash through them like a freight train through a brick wall.

  "I just thought it would be nice to have some fun tonight." For a moment, I have a glimmer of hope. "The rest of the bridal party is staying at the hotel with Noah and Lexi. I thought it would be nice to go party a little and blow off some steam, like the old days."

  And just like that, my hope is snuffed out.

  "I bet you want to go party with them." I snap. Shit. It's not me he wants to be with, it's her.

  He narrows his eyes at me but doesn't take the bait.

  "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't find watching you hit on other women fun." I feel tears sting my eyes, and I hate that I'm so out of control.

  His dark eyes hold a sadness I've never seen from him. I wonder if this is the moment that smothers out the last ember of our dying love.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" He looks off to the side as he runs a hand through his hair. "Shit, Marlena. I haven't hit on a girl since we met. Besides, who do you think I was hitting on? Selene? Like I'd ever be stupid enough to want another woman Cooper fucked. Or Lexi? On her wedding day? Do you realize how ridiculous that is?"

  I turn my head quickly to look away, and the whooshing feeling that comes and goes all too often these days washes over me. For a long moment I think I'm standing on a spinning platform. I breathe deeply, hoping it will pass as fast as it came on.

  "Allie," Troy says as if he just figured it out. "Of course. I was trying to find common ground for her and Mickey so they don't feel left out, since the rest of us are coupled up. But now I see you interpreted it as me flirting with her."

  "You were hanging on her every word, and you couldn't take your eyes off her."

  "I was being friendly. I didn't treat her any differently than anyone else. But since you think I'm such a shit, maybe I should go see if she's interested in having some fun."

  Like a chunk of stale bread, another piece of my heart, one I willingly reserved and handed over to him, comes crumbling off. I wonder when everything is said and done if we'll be able to follow the trail of crumbs back to each other. But for now, I just want more distance, more space.

  "I swear, Troy. Talking to you sucks the life right out of me."

  I push around him, and this time he makes no move to stop me.

  Chapter 2

  Troy

  "Tequila." I pound my fist down on the bar. Fuck Marlena. Fuck. Her! Every muscle in my body trembles. She fucking shot me down again. Bitch. She holds my heart in the palm of her hand, and she squeezes it tight, fucking strangles it, preventing it from beating every chance she fucking gets. The bartender slides a shot glass at me. "Keep 'em coming," I say, slapping a twenty-dollar tip down on the bar.

  Since I won't be losing myself in my wife tonight, I might as well lose myself to the burn of tequila.

  I don't know why I even bother trying anymore. If after six years together she thinks I'm a piece of shit looking to cheat on her, maybe I should prove her right. It's not like she ever wants to have sex anymore, anyway. Fuck. I hate to admit it, but Cooper was right. Babies change every fucking thing between you.

  In the months before Marlena got pregnant, I thought the worst thing in the world was the fact that we had to schedule sex. We couldn't just go at it when the moment struck and even had to keep our hands off each other on certain nights to increase our chance of conception on the nights we could be together.

  We had to carefully plan our do and don't days. It wasn't long before we found we couldn't even touch on the don't days because that was pure torture. For us, touching always led to sex, and I always wanted to touch Marlena. Our sex life sucked. It felt more like bringing the car in for an oil change than a romantic rendezvous with the woman I love. But the end game was worth it.

  Once we got the good news, lif
e didn't go back to normal. We still weren't able to go for it anytime, anywhere. No. The shop closed for business. Afraid we might do something to cause a miscarriage, Marlena said "no," almost all the time.

  We wanted the baby so much we would've agreed to go years without any. But in the fifteen months since our little princess was born, sex became something rare and delectable. When it does happen, it's over in a matter of minutes. It's like waiting hours on a line for the most popular ride at an amusement park, only to find it only goes halfway around the track.

  I'm always left wanting more and wishing I could make it better, but when you're relegated to a few times a month, you're not going to be at the top of your game when you do perform. Once again, the problem lies with Marlena.

  I always want to fool around, but she's never in the mood. She's always too fucking tired, or her head hurts. I wish she'd stop making excuses and just say it like it is, that she doesn't want me in that way anymore.

  It's not just the sex either. I can handle the lack of sex if everything else between us is golden; if we still enjoy being around each other and she's still reaching out to me emotionally as well as physically, but she doesn't. At all.

  She's changed. She's withdrawn and sad most of the time. She doesn't speak to me unless she absolutely has to, which is lots of fun at dinner. And when I talk to her, I don't think she hears a word I say, because when I follow up on a subject later or the next night, she has a blank look on her face and doesn't recall the conversation.

  Once upon a time, a touch would spark heat in her eyes and a blush in her cheeks. Now there's nothing. Not a fucking thing. Her eyes don't twinkle, her skin doesn't cover with goose bumps. What hurts most is when I touch her, it doesn't fucking register. At all. Which only brings me back to my original thought that the passion between us is gone and she's just not into me anymore.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  That's why she accused me of hitting on Allie, she's deflecting her feelings onto me. And then of course I find her outside, alone with Cooper, which is bad enough, but then he had to go and touch her.