bad idea, right?

chp. 7

There should be no reason for Delaney to be sulking in his living room nursing a glass of whiskey. He has no right to be angry with her because everything she said was true. But maybe that was the problem, she was right and he knows that. He is a terrible person. Falling for a woman who isn't his wife; the mother of his child. Enaging with her romantically, as if he isn't married.

He was being selfish. Only thinking about himself and how happy she would make him, how she would complete the melody of his life. She would be the perfect authentic cadence, the ending to the song that would fit so gracefully that you wound't have to question whether or not it's the end. Whether or not they are it for each other.

He hadn't asked her how she felt. Or what she thought about the circumstances of their situation. He knows being a mistress would not bring her out in a good light but he hadn't thought about how she would feel being tucked away from his world. Having their relationship sit tucked away behind their hearts until they were behind a door that could properly shield them from prying eyes and ears.

Delaney was never one to hide the things expecially things he was most proud of. Which would be the reason that his relations with Bellamy falls apart before it even begins. Delaney finally decides to get up from his spot on the couch, making his way to his office and practically throwing himself into his chair. He sits there pondering any and everything for a little while before he decided he's gonna write in his journal.

Delaney in his younger days would've laughed at his present self as he whips out his journal from the desk draw before tossing papers around his desk looking for his favorite pen. He'd never been one to speak his feelings out loud, well feelings that weren't joy and anything associated with it.

However, after a very deep and eye opening chat with a homeless man on a bus stop bench, he realized he needed an outlet, if not a therapist, or his wife, something. Pent up anger and frustration made him mean and he hated being mean so journaling was better than nothing.

Staring at the blank page the man ponders what to say, where to start, how to put his thoughts into coherent words. And somehow all those questions come back to one thing.

And for two weeks Delnaey wrote out his thoughts and feelings in his journal hoping it will set his mind straight, bring him to some kind of eye opening revelation; make him see his ways and do better.

Two weeks is a long time to fix things.

'everyday for two weeks i have gone on about my life as it had been before.'

Two whole weeks.

'and everyday for two weeks i have beaten myself up at the thought of more.'

But for two weeks...well...

more of her...

her touch.

her smile.

her laugh.

her eyes.

more of the way her skin glows in any light.

more of the way her face contorts when she knows she's right.

For two weeks, he wrote about her, all the things he's noticed, all the things he's come to fall in love with. Everyday a new page, and every page all focused on one thing about her that makes him want her more. Until he reaches the last day when after debating long enough he thinks that he's s ready to let her go.