I pick up my plate and help Krista clear the table. Normally, I would stay and help her clean up, but I think it’s best to get Turner out of Zack’s reach, now.

Krista seems surprised by our abrupt departure, but I can tell she’s more tired than she lets on because she doesn’t say a word about it. I will call you tomorrow, Zach mouths at me over her shoulder as I hug and kiss her goodbye.

Chapter Four

“Since when do we listen to head banging heavy metal?”

Reaching over and turning down the radio, I give my crazy ass husband a revolted look. Since saying our goodbyes to Zack and Krista, my husband has been acting normally, drawing slow circles with his hand on my leg . . . until he turned on the radio and found this music.

Now, he is pouring his heart and soul into doing his best to try and sing to whatever the song is playing on the radio. Not that I don’t like this kind of music, but the entire car feels like it is shaking because he has it up so loud. My eardrums are about ready to fucking burst, not to mention I am so pissed off at him I can hardly hold this shit in anymore.

“What the hell is your problem, Clove? You have been acting like a complete and utter bitch today. If you have an issue with me then spit it the fuck out.”

I don’t even know how to respond to that rude remark. I’m acting strange? What the hell? Oh, how badly I want to reach across this console and shove those words right back down his throat and choke him with them.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or not?” he demands. I whip my head around and glare at him.

“You just called me a bitch, Turner, something you have never done before! You really want to know what my FUCKING problem is?” I lean over and get right in his face. “It’s the fact that you were practically fucking Krista with your goddamned eyes right in front of me and Zack. That’s what my fucking problem is!” I seethe.

“I did no such thing. Have you completely lost your mind?” The expression on his face looks as if I have just bitch slapped him.

“No, but I am beginning to think that you have lost yours.” I poke my finger in his chest as I spit out my words.

“Damn, baby, I am sorry again. Why would I do something like that when I have you to look at all day long? When I was looking at her, all I was thinking about was how good she looked after just having a baby. Jesus Christ, Clove! I can’t believe you would think that of me. That stings, here.” He taps himself over his heart.

Fuck! This is so damn aggravating, this back and forth bullshit and keeping my inkling of Turner’s infidelity, or whatever the hell kind of secret he is hiding, to myself. I take a deep breath then exhale slowly.

“You’re right, and I am sorry, too. I just . . . I don’t know what I am thinking. I don’t have a problem with you, Turner. I really don’t,” I lie again, and thank God that it is dark out so he cannot see my face.

Fuck it. I don’t want to argue with him anymore, I just want to distance myself from my emotions, climb into my bed, and wake up relieved that this was one big, ugly nightmare. Yeah, right, I chuckle to myself. How in the hell can I do that when the one who is holding my emotions in the palm of his hands is sitting right next to me? This sure as hell is no nightmare, this is a damn hurricane that has stormed into my life out of nowhere and laid at my damn doorstep filling my entire world with nothing but terror.

Silence fills the car the rest of the way home. I need the silence just as much as I need to sleep. I just can’t seem to turn off my brain. The things Zack both did and didn’t say have me on edge. I’m scared, worried, nervous, and above all, concerned about my brother’s uncertainties regarding Turner.

If I don’t start acting like myself then Turner is going to suspect I know something. He’s not one to be easily manipulated. Maybe I should seduce him when we get home and remind him of everything that we’ve shared.

I take a glance at his handsome features in the dark out of my peripheral vision. God, he is so achingly handsome with his manly, dark stubble. Who wouldn’t want him any way they could have him? He has a gregarious personality and one hell of a stellar smile. A piece of art sculpted to perfection.

I am so in love with this man and my heart is broken and beating silently in my chest. I just cannot believe he would do this to me . . . to us. And why? Is it me? Am I not adventurous enough in bed with him? Am I not good enough for him anymore? They say your partner will stray elsewhere to get the sexual satisfaction they need. Have I pushed him away? Never, not once.

Our appetite for one another is way above average; I know this from talking to my girlfriends whenever we’re together. None of their husbands seem to have either Turner’s sex drive or his stamina. Hell, my friend Shelly says she gets more out of her BOB than she does her husband.

“At least my vibrator will do everything I ask him to,” she always says.

But not Turner. I never have to ask him to do a thing; he just does it and does it well. Stop! I scream at myself. You’re driving yourself crazy.

“Clove? We’re home, babe.”

My eyes pop open and I jump in my seat, noticing that we’re in our garage.

“You dozed off for about ten minutes. Come on. Let’s get inside and get ready for bed.”

He reaches down and unhooks my seatbelt and then undoes his own. We both climb out of the car and head into the house, where I toss my purse and iPad onto the counter. I retrieve a bottle of water out of the fridge and make my way up the stairs without a backwards glance.

I am so exhausted right now that even the autopilot I have been running on for the past day and a half is burning out.

“I’m going to go take a nice, long bath before bed.” I call out.

“Sounds good. I’ll be up in a bit,” he says casually.

I pour a small amount of lavender scented bath oil into the tub and adjust the water to as hot as I can possibly stand it. I look around and admire the beauty of this room, the one room I demanded we remodel when we bought this house three years ago.

It’s exactly how I pictured it to be. Everything is white except the floor, which is a deep navy blue. The shower is off to the left and surrounded by glass with the same color blue tile covering one wall. That shower is Turner’s favorite spot for us to make love. It was his only request when we remodeled, to have a walk in shower large enough for the two of us, while my request was this huge, round bathtub where we could both lie back and relax during the big tax season.

I sigh and brush away a lone tear at the thought of the many times we have made love in this bathroom. The morning he left, I was standing right in front of the double sink vanity applying my makeup when he crept up behind me, wrapping me in his big, strong arms. He started kissing the back of my neck all the way down my spine until he reached my ass, where he massaged my cheeks and slowly pulled my panties down my legs.

Without either one of us saying a word, he spun me around to face him and buried his face between my legs. It was mere seconds before I erupted all over him, and when he lifted me up on the counter, spread me wide, and slammed into me, the only sounds coming out of our mouths were our pants and moans. Our eyes locked on each other said everything.

He loves me, I have no doubt about it at all . . . and yet, why do I feel like the man downstairs is a stranger to me?

I strip out of my clothes then step in and submerge myself as deep as I can, trying to relax. It doesn’t take long for the steam and the warmth from the tub to loosen me up. Just as I am about to turn on the jets, the bathroom door opens and in walks Turner, completely naked.