Pieces Of A Marriage

Pieces of a Marriage

A short peek behind Happily Ever After

Dear readers, the story you're about to read is a short look at a marriage; the good, the bad and the ugly. You know the joke about fairy tale weddings and how it's all HEA because the focus is on the wedding and not what comes after. This looks at what happens after the photo albums are set aside. This piece owes much to the inspiration of ohio's

Scenes from a Marriage

as well as a Guardian article/letter that was sad to read. Much gratitude goes to DFWBeast for helping make this less excruciating a read than it might have been otherwise. For readers who have long complained about the length of my stories, well, this one's for you!

Warning: this isn't BTB or RAAC, it's boringly normal, average and probably has far less sexual content than news coverage these days. Don't say you haven't been warned! Everyone else, happy reading!

This is where you fall

This is when you get up

This is where it all begins

Where it all begins

by Hunter Hayes

Laughter floated around the little house as he kicked the door open and swung her over the threshold. It was so traditional and yet so new in someone who'd breathe new life in her world. They had known each other for so long yet her eyes had been focused for ages on that no good charmer who had made her heart beat so fast but left her in the dumps when she refused to surrender her body to him. One day, the other guy was charming as could be and the next, he was openly kissing her best friend. Her friend looked embarrassed, he did not. And through the tears, she'd glimpsed the face of real love who would pick up the pieces of her heart and make her whole. It was young love and it wasn't long before she was lost in that steady gaze that reflected only her image. Her wounds were licked each time she felt the gaze of the other guy upon her as she kissed the owner of that steady gaze.

Where the other guy had been exciting and always pushed the boundaries, the man she'd chosen to stand by her for the rest of their lives was respectful and held himself back even when she'd been willing to give her all. The other guy had approached her mere days before her wedding and asked her to run away with him. She had been tempted. After all, he was the one who got away. But the thought of that steady gaze drowning in pain made her see the truth in the other's restless eyes. The greedy gleam of a chase unfulfilled. That quelled the tiny voice that tempted her to throw it all away for the empty victory of hurt pride redeemed. Fortunately, the headlights flared and restless eyes slunked away in the darkness, sneaking away as was his nature. Sweet relief flooded her as steady eyes and that heartbreaking smile caressed and brought warmth in that autumn chill.

Shaking off the past, she watched as his steady gaze fired up tiny flames wherever they roamed on her body. His warm hands stoking fires as they travelled restlessly across peaks and crevices that only one other had groped in the sticky backseat of his car. The one who slunk away in darkness, never daring to meet the light. She opened her lips, gasping her desire and traced the contours of her lover's form. Loving the hard planes that met her lips and teeth. She had not agreed to swallow the other's bitter cum, she hated the rough way he'd stuck his penis in her face and waited as if in expectation of service. She loved her mate's hesitation, his warm hands gently tugging her head upwards as he swallowed hard and told her she did not have to do this if she didn't want to. Her lover's considerate manner melted her last reservations. She traced the tip with her soft lips, teasing as it leapt to life and welcomed its slide across her tongue and into the warmth of her mouth. It was longer than what she was accustomed to and she shivered as he groaned and thrust involuntarily.

His steady gaze now misted over in desire, looked almost apologetic as he moved restlessly against her lips, now stretched as they were over half his length. He pulled out almost immediately hearing her gag and pulled her to her feet. In that kiss they shared was the faint musk and his favourite drink. intoxicated, she swayed as he laid her against the wall and worshipped her stiff peaks till each shone faintly in that moonlit darkness. She held her breath as his lips approached the center that ached. With a smile, he lifted a knee and slid it across his shoulder. His fingers played that hard knob expertly and memories of the other disintegrated, lost in that wave of pleasure that crashed over her. She looked at the mirror at the vanity and saw herself, mouth open, eyes wild, almost unrecognisable as she thrashed against the man who shattered her world with his hands and mouth. Love began trickling through the barriers that doubt and uncertainty had built inside her. It was sweet, aching love that brought tears to her eyes as he brought them both to the soft sheets that gleamed white in that moon-drenched room. Love that made her open herself fully as he stood at the foot of that bed, proof of his red-hot desire in his hands as he guided it up and down the length of her lips. He looked almost regretful as he surged forward and pain painted her features.

Love, slick and liquid, made itself heard in that little chamber as they danced in desire. She was beyond thoughts as she looked into those eyes that never left hers. In those eyes, she thought she saw them through the years and tiny versions of them dancing in the fields. There was no other but him when she felt that ache tighten as he drove relentlessly. Love swelling, beating with that one pulse between two, united in that moment. Liquid heat melded and flowed as they cried out, locked in that intimate embrace. In those moments before they drifted off to oblivion, their eyes met those clasped hands and love flowed from their eyes, trickling down young cheeks that have known little else but joy.

****

The baby's wail made her grit her teeth. Exhaustion engulfed her as did frustration. Then came the tears as her son latched onto her breast. Breasts sore, her eyes barely open from the sleeplessness nights and days, she gazed forlornly in the mirror. The reflection of that bloated self she saw in that vanity mirror made anger and despair rise like a tide in her. She turned, startled by the steady gaze that made things just that little better. Love leapt out of those eyes and surrounded her, comforting in its warm embrace. His patience and understanding almost made everything alright. The tenderness in his touch as he led her back to bed, promising to deal with their baby so she could sleep almost made her cry again. Yet, it was that smile and latent desire in his eyes that warmed her thoroughly and sent her sleep in those soft sheets that now smelt more like baby formula than passion with that rare smile on her face.

****

Life had degenerated, becoming a tiring cycle of noisy kids, never ending bills and soulless grind. She could barely look at herself in the mirror. Tired eyes, lines threatening to form around those features worn blunt by time. He tried, the constant willingness to please, taking the kids out to give her some respite. Still, none of that helped revive the shine.

Then the other guy transferred back to town and brought with him those irrational thoughts of what would have been. Questions and doubts that grew as she saw the happy family show he put on with her best friend, now his wife. Always the player, he had flirted with her and she had flirted back politely. She was oblivious to the bitter twist of her best friend's lips every time the show of charm played at parties. Soon, the flirting became secret text messages and stealthy whispers in the office or in dark corners of the house. The thrill of doing something forbidden seemed to make her feel young again. Before the grind, before the kids, before the bills. The fear of hurting her husband began to fade as did the guilt.

There were moments when his steady gaze seemed to linger on her, moments that had her holding her breath, certain that she had been caught. Increasingly tense conversation at the dinner table made her nervous. Yet, the rebellious youth that lay buried inside her made her want to throw caution to the wind, after all, she just wanted something for herself. Surely she was entitled to just that one bit of fun!

She couldn't tell exactly what it was that made her give in. The exhaustion of life, endlessly churning day after day, dragging her like a ragdoll after it. Or the endless demands of little chirpy voices that left her no time and too frazzled to bother with a husband who still looked at her with adoration. If only on the weekends or the regular Friday nights when he dragged his equally tired body to bed and they coupled almost mechanically.

The temptation the other guy posed? Well, he was the one that got away. The one who dumped her when she refused to give it up and then dated her best friend the very next week. The one that every girl wanted back in high school. The one she rejected on the eve of her wedding.

Regardless of what the reason was, the fact was she was now lying on the shag carpet on the floor of her best friend's bedroom as the other guy pounded into her. The excitement she thought she'd feel was fading slightly. The guy was a completely selfish bastard who didn't even bother making sure she was aroused. He'd mauled her breasts, biting her when she'd told him specifically not to and was now grunting and pounding himself into her. Fear and guilt jacked up the thrill as she glanced round the bedroom, noting her best friend's favourite makeup lining the dressing table. The sudden flash of silver in the full length mirror next to the dresser brought her eyes to the door as it slid open and four pairs of eyes focused on the scene. Even as the worst climax of her life swept over her while the other guy groaned as he emptied himself into her, she was scrambling to establish damage control. She shoved him off. The bastard grumbling about what a bitch she was for not letting him finish properly. He hadn't even noticed they had an audience.

A low keening sound reached her ears. She glanced with wild eyes at the woman staring at her, hand over mouth. It wasn't her best friend. It wasn't her husband either. He'd stared at her with an expression that defied definition. No, no, it was like that of an animal facing sudden death in the jaws of a cruel predator. Uncomprehending. Devastated. The same incomprehension that stood in the eyes of her children. The noise from the crowd of friends gathered below for the christening of her best friend's youngest child wafted up. The two adults at the door, frozen in shock, closed the door sharply. The keening continued.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The other guy might as well have spoken Martian. When she tried to open her mouth to yell at him, she found it already open. Somehow she closed her mouth. The keening became a muffled low scream.

"You bastard! They saw us! Why? Why did this have to happen?"

She screamed almost hysterically, gathering her clothes and dressing at top speed. Her startled accomplice stared at her, moving only to dress himself.

"Oh for God's sake, calm down. If they were going to fuss, they would have stormed in already. Just be nice later. They won't want to rock the boat."

His callousness made her gape at him. Suddenly she recalled exactly why she'd decided he wasn't the one all those years ago. In her mind's eye, she could see her younger self looking at her now, shaking that glorious crown of hair in anger and disgust. She turned and faced her accomplice. Looking past the image of the younger, arrogant jock who had fascinated her, she saw him for what he really was. A selfish, arrogant bastard who cared for nothing and no one but himself. And in the mirror that stood behind him, she saw the self she'd never allowed herself to really see. Shallow. Vain. Insecure. Foolish.

"I never want to see you again."

She wasn't sure if she was saying that merely to him or the image she saw in the mirror. She ignored his shrug and strode out of the room.

*****

The weeks that passed since that awful day were filled with anger that permeated the short sharp rows that hadn't been heard in their house before. Yet those had filled her with hope. Hope that once he was over his anger, they could work their way back to what they had been before she destroyed everything. No, it was the silence she dreaded. The dark, angry silence.

Deadweight, despair made her feel like she'd sunk to the bottom of the ocean with the stones of betrayal she'd tied around her legs. He'd refused to see a counsellor and was sleeping on a cot in the kids' room. Neither of their kids understood what had happened. They knew mom and dad didn't talk anymore and that dad was mad at mom for something. They knew they were no longer visiting mommy's friend who lived in the neighbourhood. Then again, they had never been that close. Still, the kids knew they'd seen mommy doing something she shouldn't have done with the man mommy's friend was married to. Her husband had sat the kids down after a particularly tense row when she'd yelled back at him, assigning blame for her betrayal to his neglect. The fight had ended when the sound of their kids crying penetrated the walls of angry despair that surrounded them. She'd cried alongside the kids as her husband stood with tears in his eyes and comforted their kids who had hurled themselves into their father's arms.

All of that added to the dread that twisted her insides as she pulled into the driveway of the house she lived in. Shock intensified that dread when she saw her traitorous accomplice at her front door.

"What are you doing here?"

"My wife asked me to meet her here. Guess they're ready to talk."

She opened the front door with shaking hands. Sweeping through the ground floor and finding no sign of their spouses, she started up the stairs, fighting the impulse to run away. The laughing face of her best friend greeted her.

"We thought we'd even things up a little."

The bitch laughed as she dressed slowly, giving them full view of her freshly fucked body, cum still running down her inner thighs. Her husband looked discomfited even as he gracefully stood up and dressed.

Pain. Fury. Guilt. How does a person feel all that in one short minute?

****

A white ceiling. The beep of medical equipment and machinery. Her wrists bandaged. A head on the sheets next to her.

The pain, the fury, the guilt all rolled into an immense wave that washed over her and threatened to drown her was all she remembered before a blessed darkness.

Consciousness crept up on her. Slowly. Inevitably. Eyelids, heavy and reluctant, moving slowly to allow light entry. Pain and sound the only indication she was still of this world. Memory returned alongside consciousness. Consciousness was a bitch.

Tiny fragments started assembling in her mind.

The bitch's laughter.

The rumpled bed sheets.

The smell of a fuck session.

The pain. Her pain. The gleam in his eyes. Her rage.

That tearing pain that made her scream out loud.

That flash of satisfaction in his eyes when he saw how she hurt from seeing betrayal re-enacted before her a sight that drove her crazy with guilt and rage.

The rage that made her redirect the talons that tore at her best friend's hair, making the bitch shriek, towards the intricate glass vase that stood on the dresser. Swinging it in fury, she whammed the other man's head, leaving a stunned coward who yelped in the wake of her attack. Swinging again, she gave her erstwhile best friend a fat lip and more when the blunt bottom of the heavy case made its greeting in passing with that woman's face. Yet she'd frozen at the sight of a third potential victim.

An inability to hurt him.

Because I betrayed him first!

Crashing of the glass. The flash of pain. The spurts of blood. Crumbling to her knees. The blood drowned out by the tears that seemed to drain endlessly. The screaming of a demented beast.

Satisfaction no longer in his eyes. Fear. For her. His strong hands wrapped round her wrists slippery with blood. Him yelling at the two cowards. Then the blessed darkness.

Darkness punctuated by flashes of light. His face white with worry.

"Stay with me. Dammit! Don't do this to me!"

She moved her hand slightly, feeling the cool sheet beneath her and hearing that annoying series of beeps that hinted at the location she was in. She stared up at the ceiling as she gathered her senses.

Had it all been a dream?

A nightmare she conjured up in her desperation to seek some sortof outlet, some excuse for not flaying herself over that horrible mistake she'd made with the other man. The dull pain that started up along her forearms and the sight of her husband's head on the sheet next to her restrained arm chipped away at that hope.

Part of her wanted to run her fingers through his hair. The other part wanted to yank his hair out by the roots.

So this was what betrayal felt like.

To be on the receiving end of that pointed dagger. A dagger that went unerringly to the heart and tore you up inside out.

A tear rolled, traversing the planes of her face. It was making its way out of the corner of her eye and into her hair when he woke up and looked blearily at her.

"You're awake," he murmured. Noticing the tears, worry darkened his visage. A frown marring his forehead, he asked, "Are you in pain? Is something wrong?" Concern made his voice gruff and he was reaching for the emergency button on the panel before her fingers had purchase on her husband's wrist.

"No," she croaked. She couldn't find the words that would have described what she felt - a bleeding ball of hurt, guilt, rage and despair. The look in her eyes conveyed what her tongue failed to accomplish.

Something different furrowed his brow. Concern was still there, but so was a complicated mixture of emotions. His insides roiled, a lump the size of a cantaloupe stood in his throat as he sought to explain the darkness that swallowed him after her betrayal and how he simply gave in to the urge to make her feel his pain.

Whispers. That was what made the days that followed bearable. Whispers that mattered only for the two of them. The aftermath of thoughtless betrayal was that slow climb back up the hill of broken glass by a couple bruised beyond belief by the person they'd sworn to love and honour. Whispers of what they failed to hear before the pain and the rage brought them near the edge of a parting, an end before death. Hands clasped with hesitation, with the memory of hurt on either side, yet all the firmer because the alternative was unbearable. The path that started with roses now littered with shards of glass. The unspoken question hovered in the air: Could they possibly put them back together?

****

The clear blue sky brought a smile to her face, now adorned with the lines of time, each bearing silent testimony to ups and downs of marriage, kids and life. She looks silently at the face of one she almost lost 20 years ago. Neither of them could proudly say they were perfect. No, both were equally culpable, each contributing cracks that threatened their marriage.

The hand that held hers was now weathered and filled with scars from little accidents. The cut from the time he tried to fix the leaking pipe. The scratches from the kitten was rescued by their daughter who insisted on keeping it. The dent in the thumb from when she'd slammed the car door too quickly when their son had to be rushed to hospital because an asthma attack.

She beamed as the vows of marriage dictated by the priest floated into her ear. The smiling faces of their children and grandchildren had made this moment too precious to be tainted by any stray memories of darker times. She saw her emotions mirrored in those eyes that have seen her through good times and bad. The slight tightening of his clasp reminded her of vows threatened, broken and then renewed. How precious those tears, hoarse throats and kisses were. No longer tinted by the blush of youth, the happy couple, united by lips and the beating of hearts in unison, walked into the sunset of a marriage tested and mended. Not perfect but beautifully flawed.