Chapter 16 – Hit so Hard

They had signed the papers at 8:03 a.m. that morning. That morning being the ninth of June and the papers being the marriage licenses.

They had wanted a large ceremonial wedding but they had also wanted the twins to have their father's last name and it wasn't possible to have both while she was almost due to give birth, so they had settled on doing the legal side of things first, signing the certificates on her 38th week of pregnancy – about a month before she was due to deliver the twins – and they would have the large ceremony when she had lost all her baby weight.

She took off her long white dress pants and sufficiently warm ice-blue turtleneck, before stepping out of her white stiletto boots and threw them in the basket with dirty laundry, before pulling on a pair of baggy black pants and a fluffy warm crimson v-neck sweater and stepping into her well-worn black skater shoes.

Her husband had gone out exactly forty-seven minutes ago, with the promise that he would "be back soon," and the parting words if, "errands to run." Which left her with exactly six and a half hours before he returned at promptly 3:30a.m. the next morning. Thus leaving her with six and a half hours that she didn't need, to do whatever she wished. She knew his routine, she knew what he was doing…just not who…this time.

She knows exactly what she's doing, she knows it's wrong, and for the first time in her life she doesn't care.

She sighed.

She didn't know why she had done what she had – apart from all the alcohol – and she didn't have a clue as to why on earth she had done it.

How could she have gone and just done that? And with his best friend of all people. His best fucking friend.

She was so angry. Angry at herself; for letting it happen and for getting out of control, at him; for letting her get out of control, and letting her get caught up in the moment and helping her to do so, and taking advantage of her and angry at her husband; for going out and doing it again and lying about it.

She glanced up at the clock; 11:52, it read. Tears welled in her eyes but somehow she felt no remorse in her heart. It wasn't going down the way she had thought – and for some reason secretly hoped – that it would. For some reason she hadn't even felt a single ounce of regret.

All she really felt was shame…

She glanced over at his sleeping form – he really was a sight, – he was beautiful – there was no doubt about that – he was a good lover and she appreciated that. he had somehow fallen into a twisted kind of love with her but she couldn't love him – even if she could love him it wouldn't be for him – and worst of all she couldn't even really appreciate him properly.

She pulled on her underwear, glaring at it, noting the colour and its associations. White. White fucking underwear. White represented purity and innocence and all that was good and right in the world and she had none of that; she didn't even have a sense of fucking decency.

She pulled on her clothes hugging her knees to her chest for a few moments, turning her head towards the bed and his sleeping figure where the squeaking sounds drew her attention and pulled her out of her reverie.

The hot water scorched her skin as she stepped under the steaming showerhead.

On second thought, she decided, she wasn't so scorched after all. Being scorched would imply that she was feeling anything at all, and the last thing she was doing right now was feeling.

Numb.

If she was feeling anything that would be it. It was the only word that she could use to describe how she was feeling, if she was indeed feeling anything at all, but if she were it would definitely be a whole lotta numbness.

She leaned against the cold tiles, slumping down against them, settling on the wet tiled floor, holding her head in her hands, her eyes letting out tear droplets that melted together with the water rivulets.

The door opened with a sigh on his part.

Her gentle and quiet sobbing had subsided minutes earlier, though the numbness she had been sort-of feeling, sort-of not feeling hadn't managed to be washed away with the cleansing mixture of hot water and cold tears.

There was one other small thing that she hadn't been able to wash away. That small thing being the scent of him.

He didn't smell putrid – putrid was nowhere near the way he smelled – but if her husband came too close he would know and he couldn't know…not just yet…not before she had a chance to explain herself and tell him her side of the story, instead of letting him make crazy assumptions.

He engulfed her in his large arms. He knew something was not right. She might not have shown any signs of something being wrong, but he was her husband. He could tell…he could feel it in his bones, and her constant fidgeting – namely with her two tongue rings, twirling the barbells around and whatnot – wasn't helping her case any.

Her back was comfortably snuggled into his bare chest and he knew – he was positively sure of it – that she was hiding something. The only question as to her secrecy was what on earth could she possibly be hiding?

As she snuggled closer into his embrace, his suspicions became stronger as the scent of a man's aftershave – namely his aftershave – lingered all over her body.

The only question he had now was what was happening here? There was only one way to find out and that would require some serious investigation on his part.

As he was changing out of his clothes her eyes begged him to stay there and not leave her yet again.

"John," her eyes filled with unshed tears as she began to clear her throat, "okay," she began, running her hands through her hair in an attempt to calm herself down as he closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself.

He knew what was coming now. "I know what you were doing," she started, looking at his ever-changing facial expressions, "you were with her again," she said, trying to calm her voice, "and I was alone and drunk so I went out. He was there and a couple of random guys were crowding around me, trying to come on to me; basically harassin' me and he came and saved me from 'em. Let's face it, I can't fight this pregnant," she pointed at her ballooning stomach. "We had a couple'a drinks an' headed back to his place," his eyes widened in realization, "we had sex…I had no control, I know it's not an excuse but I'm sorry, I don't even remember it for what it's worth, an' I guess that's it really…I couldn't lie to you." By now big fat tears were falling freely down her face and the look of shame on his face went unconcealed as he looked down at her.

She looked up at him, just as he was looking down at her and their eyes met – clashing into an explosion of hazel and aqua – and in that brief second his eyes told her a story and she knew it for sure. She saw it in his eyes - - it would never be the same again.

And it hit her hard. It hit her so hard. So hard that she fell to the floor…

TBC…tell me did you like it or not? Was that a good one or were the previous chapters better. Don't hesitate on feedback I love it when I know that there are ways that I can improve my work and I love hearing all your comments and to all the reviewers Thankyou for your reviews. And this is nearing the end, it will get so much more dramatic but don't fret, there will most probably be a sequel in the making D