Page 10 of Blurry Little Lines
Chapter 5
Kelsie
The sun beats down as I sit on the picnic blanket with my hands behind me for support. Max and I haven’t talked about my wine-induced brain dump the other night, and I’m thankful for it. Not that I fully remember every single detail I unloaded. Which wouldn’t worry me so much if I knew it wasn’t on the topic of sex. Once again, alcohol and me shouldn’t mix. I hear my kids laughing and rolling in the grassy field as Max quietly picks at his guitar. Today feels calm. That is, until Max begins to play a chord progression that takes me back to the same night I spoke my nightmare out loud.
Music has an inevitable way of possessing the power to unleash memories you thought were locked in a vault forever.
Seven, maybe eight months ago.
My penthouse is finally quiet once both kids are asleep. My husband, Benson, is yet again away on business for who knows how long. Max and I are back to how we’ve always spent our time together through the years. His guitar in hand and my notebook full of poems that I wish my mind had the capacity to turn into full length songs. I spent countless years begging him through school to sing at talent shows with me, but he was too shy to sing for the public. The glow from the city lights outside helps calm me, and I fixate on them until they blur. My life feels overwhelming lately, but I know I’m not the only one.
“Have you written anything recently?” Max picks a new chord progression, waiting for me to hum along and find some words to go with it.
“Yeah, but”—I focus on the guitar strings vibrating, not sure where to start—“it’s darker than my usual flowery words.”
“You’re famous for your mushy love crap.” He slows his playing, but doesn’t stop completely.
“For it’s in the silence of our dark thoughts when we need the strength to escape a desire to ignore reality.”
“What—” He sets the guitar aside, giving me his full attention. “What the hell brought those words to life?”
“Benson filed for a divorce. He wants to grow his business and move to Miami full time.” I let the news out in one breath before I change my mind. Or worse, cry.
“What about his kids?” Max’s soft blue eyes grow angry, or hurt. I don’t see this look often, so it’s hard to tell.
“When was the last time he even flew home to see them, Max?” I shrug weakly, exhausted from the effort I’ve put into trying to make us work. “I suggested counseling, begged like a pathetic child, and even offered for the kids and I to live in Miami part time to keep us a family.” I feel the knot in my throat grow tighter as the air siphons around me. “What if he’s having an affair?” I haven’t done anything wrong in our relationship to earn this.
Max stays silent as his hands cup my face. It isn’t until I feel his thumbs brush over my cheekbones that I realize I have tears falling. “I just want us to work.” My voice constricts like a whispering mouse.
“You did nothing wrong, Kelsie.” Max presses a soft kiss to my temple, as I use every ounce of strength to not have a full breakdown. “Have you told anyone else?”
“Just you, the wine, and this notebook.” I sniffle to pull myself together and sit up straight. “He is coming back into town tomorrow night to discuss everything.”
“I knew I fucking hated that guy from day one,” Max huffs.
“Where did your mind take you, half pint?” Max pulls me back into focus.
“Nowhere good.” I sigh and decide not to lie. It’s no use when he has memorized my body language and emotions anyway.
Max leans over, kissing my temple. Though I’ve never told him, that simple act seems to always reset me and bring a smile to my lips. My fingers continue to pull grapes off the vine without any intention of eating them. I keep my gaze ahead, watching Mallory and another little girl hold James in a seated position, as if he’s in a king chair. I wish it was that easy to make friends as an adult. What I’d give to go back to a time where judgment or where you are placed in society were not the first things people questioned as adults. My divorce news and solo parenting have traveled like wildfire lately in the elite circle. Events are one of the main things I dread the most lately.
“Do you still feel like walking downtown along the water with Adam and Lauren this evening?” Max speaks louder than normal. Probably to get me out of my head.
“Do you?” We are supposed todouble datewith them for dinner and stroll along the Embarcadero—host of little vendor stands, ferry piers, and the iconic clock tower on the water. “Kelsie.” His voice is breathy, and for a moment, I imagine if that is how he sounds when he’s in bed with a woman.
“I should join them.” I sigh again, noting I have been doing this too often. Maybe this is sexual frustration from overdue orgasms everyone seems to speak of these days. “Between work and mom-ing, I feel like I no longer have a social life.”
Mallory runs over with her new friend in tow. “Mom, this is Gracie. Can she come over to swim today?”
“Not today, Mal. I’m going out later.” I look down at my phone to check the time.
“Wow!” Gracie, who looks to be a few years older, leans forward toward Max. “Your dad has really nice eyes. They’re so blue!”That they are.
“Oh, Max is just a friend. My dad died a few months ago,” Mallory states with such simplicity, I’m instantly concerned.
“Mallory,” I begin.
“Okay, he’s notactuallydead.” Her brown curls bob as she shakes her head. “He just doesn’t want our family anymore and does not plan to see us again. So, he’s basically dead… to me.” She takes Gracie’s hand and they run back into the field toward her younger brother.