Between Us (all of us #1)

T H I R T E E N

A U B R E E

One month. Four weeks. Thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours. That's forty three thousand, two hundred minutes that Roger hasn't spoken to me.

This is by far the longest we've gone without contact. I'm beginning to think he's finally left me—and so is the neighborhood.

Lyssa's sitting in my living room, listening with wide eyes and a glass of wine as I take her through the journey that has been my past month and a half—leaving out big details regarding what's gone on with the boy her daughter has an obsessive crush on, of course.

Trenton and I have kept it PG. Our clothes always stay on every time we're together, and although he begs me to let him see more of me, I don't give in. I meant what I said. I'm not having sex with a high schooler. I can't believe that's the only thing stopping me and not my damn morals, my marriage, or the fact that he's my son's best friend. I guess Roger makes it easy for me to act on this guilt free, but if our little arrangement gets out, I don't know what'll happen.

I mean, I'm sure Diesel will hate me, but that's the least of my problems considering the fact that I'm already his least favorite person. Even though Roger walks around like he doesn't have a son, I'm still the one on the back burner. And I don't even want to think about what Roger would do if he knew about this, though I'm sure it would cover all bases of slow, torturous, psychopathic homicide.

But—and I can't believe I'm going to say this—Trenton is becoming a habit. A bad one...but when is a habit ever a good thing anyway?

Habits are repetitive, addictive, frequent.

My body is becoming reliant. My mind is trained by both his voice and his scent and responds to it. I'm beginning to crave him.

When his arms are around me and my reflection is in his eyes, everything makes perfect sense. And it also doesn't.

I don't know why I keep running into his arms. If they weren't so wide open for me, would I still? Would I still seek comfort in him if he weren't the only one offering it?

When we talk we're always on the same page. He tries so hard to make life easier for me, however he can. Mediating between me and Diesel, being my emotional support. But sometimes I can't tell if he really understands me, or if he's only acting that way because I promised him I'd be his first.

And I will. I want this to be one strong jab against Roger, even if I do keep it secret. He'll never know about it, but I will and it will satisfy a part of me that's seemed insatiable since I became Roger's wife. Once this is over, it's over.

I can't possibly keep this up, we both know that.

"Have you tried calling him?" asks Lyssa.

"Yeah, I've tried it all. I've contacted his office and they've left him countless messages from me, so he knows I've been trying."

"All because Chloe's pregnant? I mean, that's hardly either of yours problem. That's Diesel's problem. It's unfortunate, but it's not really your responsibility. Above all, it's your son's."

"Well, that's true, but our son is hardly a responsible person, so in turn it's all bound to fall in our laps." I stare down at the ground until I hear Trenton's laugh outside and my thighs clench together.

"The boys in the backyard?"

"Sounds like it."

Trenton does his little howl that used to irritate me, but now it's suddenly the strangest turn on. She shakes her head and chuckles, going to perch her glass on her lips.