Chapter 1

Taylor

A bang, loud enough to be heard through my closed bedroom door, echoed through the house jerking me awake. Scanning the bedroom, I waited for another sound as my heart beat wildly in my chest. Moonlight filtered through the thin curtains and in a sleepy haze I wondered why I hadn’t closed the heavy drapes. I knew it was Aaron coming home late again, but my brain wasn’t functioning logically just yet, so I held my breath and waited. His voice shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

            “Taylor! Where the hell is my dinner?”

            I scrambled from the bed, but my feet tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets and I crashed to the floor. Gasping, I tried to ignore the throbbing in my wrist and hip and slipped my robe on as I limped down the flight of stairs. That would definitely leave a bruise. I rushed through the living room and into the kitchen. Aaron stood hunched over in front of the open refrigerator. Bottles clanked together and I heard the scrape of containers being shoved around as he searched through the contents. This wasn’t the first time he’d come home well past dinner time demanding to be fed like a petulant child, so he had to know anything I fixed wouldn’t have been in the fridge. Wordlessly, I made my way to the oven where his plate was already fixed and waiting, still warm—a definite risk considering I’d fallen asleep, but I also knew the risk of not having it ready would be even higher. I could feel his eyes on me, tracking my every movement as I slipped in front of him and grabbed a beer from the fridge. I refused to meet his eyes, knowing I would find unjustified fury and undeserved loathing. Instead I stole a glance at the clock. It was a quarter past three. I cleared my throat of the lump that tried to develop and stepped around him.

“I made you chicken and shrimp carbonara. I hope you like it,” I said as I placed the beer and food on the island in the center of the kitchen and pulled out one of the stools for him. He said nothing, did nothing, and my heart pounded in my chest. What was he thinking? He was the one who’d just waltzed into our home at this ungodly hour after working late, yet I was the one filled with dread and guilt. “I kept it warm for you,” I added, unnecessarily, as I closed the refrigerator and took his hand. Without protest, he let me guide him to his seat. I tried to give him a quick peck on his lips, but he turned his head away. A smirk played at the corner of his lips. My nerves had gotten the best of me and I’d acted without thought. Aaron hadn’t kissed me in months and I should have known tonight would be no different. Forcing a smile, I settled for his cheek and stepped back. Lowering my gaze, I hugged my arms around my stomach.  “How was your day?” I murmured.

            “I want to take a shower when I’m done eating,” he replied.And just like that, I’d been dismissed.

“Oh.”

That was all I had. Oh. The sum of my disbelief. My humiliation. That broken piece of my heart, the one that was supposed to be his to be cherished, slowed just a little more and I feared that soon it would stop altogether. It barely functioned at all. Swallowing rapidly, I pushed down the lump in my throat, turned and walked away. The masochist in me took her time going upstairs, hoping he’d call me back. I could at least get a hug, right? Knowing that would never happen didn’t stop me from lingering on the stairs, ribs squeezing as hope fled with every exhale

The only sound that came from Aaron’s direction was the fork as it scraped the plate and the occasional soft thunk from him placing his beer bottle on the island after he sipped. Shoulders hunched, I made my way to our bedroom.

By the time he made it upstairs I had a fresh pair of boxers and pajama bottoms laid out and the shower was the perfect temperature. He undressed as he made his way past me without a word and disappeared into the steam billowing from the shower. I quickly scooped up the trail of clothes he left in his wake, wondering why I did it, but incapable of stopping. This was just another of his power plays, another way to make me grovel before him. The clothes hamper was mere feet away—inside the bathroom he now entered. But that tiny part that still hoped couldn’t help but to try and appease him. I shook my head and pushed those thoughts away. Aaron and I would bounce back. This couldn’t possibly last forever. He just needed time to figure himself out and realize the truth of the events he refused to discuss with me.

While he showered I took the hamper to the laundry room. Lifting his shirt to my nose, I inhaled deeply. The woodsy scent of sandalwood calmed me, but it wasn’t the same coming from his shirt. I wanted to smell it on his skin, mixed with his own personal musk, but this was probably all I’d get. I wouldn’t allow my mind to dwell on the fact that this clearly wasn’t the shirt that he’d worn when he left home this morning. More thoughts to push away. Exhaling a deep breath, I went back to the bedroom and sat at the foot of the bed. The cascade of water against the tiles made its way through the partially opened door and I fought the urge to go inside. It’d been months since we’d touched, let alone taken a shower together. Dropping that train of thought, I glanced around the room for something else to occupy me. My eyes snagged on the empty flower vase at the corner of the dresser. There’d been a time when Aaron would have kept it filled with fresh flowers. The first time the flowers had wilted and died, I’d replaced them, thinking he’d appreciate me stepping up. He hadn’t. He’d thrown the perfectly bloomed calla lilies into the bathroom garbage can and placed the empty vase back in its spot. He’d even gone so far as telling me he’d always hated calla lilies, knowing they were my favorite. Thinking it’d be better to just get rid of the vase completely, I’d put it away. That same day he’d put it back on the dresser and told me not to move it. Outside of cleaning, I hadn’t touched it since.

            “Dinner was actually very good. I’m impressed. Much better than what you’ve been making lately,” Aaron said as he emerged from the bathroom. I ignored the jab.

            “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.” I tried not to be, but I was mesmerized by his body. How could I not be? At thirty-four years old, he looked just as magnificent as he had when we’d first met. Smooth, almond brown skin pulled tight against muscles that teased me with their presence. Not big and bulky, but lean and striated, perfect for his 6’ 1” frame. His dark hair was always kept cut low, cropped close to his head. Beautiful russet colored eyes watched me from behind dark lashes. If he’d smile—which I knew he wouldn’t—I’d see perfect white teeth lined up behind those luscious lips. He glanced at the boxers on the bed with a raised eye brow then smiled smugly as I gave them to him. I cleared my throat and clasped my hands tightly before me once I realized I’d been caught staring.

            “Take that off,” he commanded with a lazy wave in my direction.

            I glanced down at the silk slip I wore under my robe then back at him. My confusion allowed him a moment of amusement. With that same smug smile locked in place, he dropped the towel that was slung low on his hips.

            “Your turn,” he challenged.

            My heartbeat kicked up its pace as I took in his form. Impatient, he gestured again with his hand. Hesitantly, I let the robe drop then with my eyes trained on his chest, I pulled the slip over my head and dropped it atop the robe. He closed the gap between us and let his fingertips skim across my collarbone. Goosebumps broke out across my flesh as I fisted my hands at my sides, silently begging him to touch me more. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, for fear that I’d ruin the moment and he’d stop. I hoped, against all odds, that this wasn’t as far as he would go. Months. It had been months since he’d touched me like this and my body was starved for his attention, absolutely craved it. His fingers trailed down until they circled my nipple and with a ragged moan, I swayed into him. He caught my arms, our bodies inches away from each other, and held me back to look into my eyes.

            “We’re having guests for dinner tomorrow. Make sure you cook something nice again.”

            I blinked. Then blinked again.

            “Bryan and his wife. Maybe with her in the room, you’ll keep your hands to yourself?”

            I sucked in a jagged breath and jerked out of his hold. He laughed. He still blamed me for his boss’s actions. He’d put all the blame on me since that night, but it stung just the same every time he brought it up. Especially now, when he’d aroused a fire in me only to douse it with cruel iciness.

            “Aaron, you know I would never do that. I didn’t do that,” I stressed.

            “I can’t even make love to you anymore,” he whispered, ignoring my words as he stepped forward and slipped an arm around my waist. He pulled me in close, my body flushed against his and slid his nose from my collar bone, up my neck, and around the curve of my ear. The whiplash from hot to cold, his actions versus his words, sent my body reeling and a shiver worked its way through me. His next words left no confusion though. We were firmly in the cold. “Can’t even fuck you anymore,” he hissed, his hips grinding into mine. The erection that should have been throbbing against me was nowhere to be found. For Christ’s sake, we were both naked!

            “Aaron, please? You can.” I was begging to be fucked by my husband, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. He let me go and slipped his boxers on.

            “Go to sleep, Taylor. I have to be up in a few hours,” he said as he slipped beneath the covers on the bed. The bed where he would only add to my misery because he knew sleeping next to him and not being allowed to touch him would be hell.

            “You know I didn’t betray you, Aaron,” I tried again.

            “Sleep, Taylor. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

            “Aaron, just talk to me. I didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t keep shutting me out like this,” I pled. “Aaron?” Silence was my companion and I knew this was the end of the conversation.

I put my slip back on and climbed into bed and although I longed for it, sleep abandoned me. My mind kept attempting to replay the events of the night that altered my marriage in the worst way possible.

Bryan’s hand tightly gripping me chin. Bruises that would later be ignored by Aaron. Whispered questions, “Do you love your husband? Do you want him to succeed? What are you willing to do to help him?”

That had been six months ago. Six long and lonely months and six months was a long time to bear the burden of a crime you didn’t commit. With a brutal finality, I shoved those memories as far away as I could and suffered through yet another sleepless night.