Adelaide jumped off me with pure hatred in her eyes. “I thought you didn’t fuck your friends.”
My heart battled the splintering beats, fighting off the invasive familiar and unfamiliar ones. “You dry hump all your friends like that?” Anger strutted around my words.
She swallowed hard. “It won’t happen again.”
I wanted it to fucking happen again. Preferably without the clothes.
Letting my head drop against the floor, “We can’t be friends, Adelaide.”
“Why?” She asked.
“You know why.”
Because I felt the heat of your pussy as you came apart and all I want is for you to do it again and again and fucking again.
“Our marriage isn’t real.”
But my feelings are.
“Christian,” she closed her eyes and threw her head back in exhaustion. “We can’t continue on like this.”
I ignored her. “Why didn’t you touch me?”
Her whole body shuddered. “Because I didn’t want to.”
TWENTY-THREE
SEVEN YEARS AGO — ADELAIDE
At seven inthe morning on Thursday August 7th, Eunbin was pronounced dead.
On August 8th, we held her funeral at the same graveyard where my parents were buried.
The sky cried as her death brought flowers to their knees and wilting stems decayed.
I’d lost three people I loved in under a decade.
I wondered what Eunbin would think about the man talking about God in front of her when she didn’t believe in religion.
She’d laugh softly, whisper something incredibly funny in my ears, then pull me closer and rest her chin on my head.
My chest constricted. Tears fell down my cheeks, burying themselves in these restless graves.
People sobbed all around, but my eyes were on one person.
His pants were muddy and soaked with rain. Christian stood right in front of Eunbin’s grave all alone.
With a sniffle, I nudged past people to get to him. I didn’t need to look at him to know that he was pretending to be okay. That’s who Christian was. When Eunbin’s cancer relapsed and she was sent to the hospital, he held his tears in even when they pricked at his eyes.
His sadness called to mine, our waves crashing and turning into one. A tsunami wouldn’t withstand the force of us.
I took the black shawl off my shoulders and wrapped it over his, keeping my hand on his back. “Christian.”
When he didn’t look at me, I coerced him to face me. My other hand reached up to touch his cheeks. He was so cold.
“Baby,” I caressed his cheekbone. “Come here.”
His lips quivered before he pulled me into him.
