Chapter 7
1748 Words
Allie woke up and stared at the ceiling. The event from the previous day fell on her like a block of ice. The bumps on the Sheetrock formed the silhouette of Dean's face. She grunted and turned to her side.Now that she had a good look at the bedroom, she remembered Dean slept there as a guest when he lost his memories. At least the sheets didn't smell like him although they were a light blue.
Blue is Dean's favorite color.
"Fuckkk," she scream-whispered.
As if it wasn't enough, she began to hear his voice on the other side of the door.
"Please, don't take her. I had to tell her what was happening. That's proof that she didn't know."
"Mr. Freeman, get out of the way," she heard a deep voice. "We're just doing our job."
Allie jumped off the bed with her heart in her throat. She put on her slippers and brushed her hair to one side.
The door opened to a police officer and a tall dark man with a long mustache in an office suit.
"No, no, I can't let you do that." Dean jumped in front of them.
The man in the suit looked behind him and made eye contact with Allie.
"Mrs. Freeman?" He opened his wallet and showed his badge. "Willie Nielsen, FBI."
Allie held her chest and walked outside.
"Yes?"
"I just want to ask you a couple questions about your employees."
"Oh."
"So you're not taking her?" Asked Dean in a relieved tone.
"No, Sir," replied the detective.
"Could I change first?" Allie pointed inside the bedroom.
"Of course."
***
The FBI agent walked after Allie and closed her home office door behind him.
Dean's nervous state was apparent as the detective shook his hand and said goodbye. He took a deep breath, seeing him and the officer in blue approach the police car on their driveway.
"I'm so glad the kids are still asleep. I don't want them to be asking questions," said Allie.
Dean exhaled and embraced her torso.
"Sweetheart, I was afraid they'd take you."
Allie raised her hands quickly and separated herself from him. Her husbands eyelids drooped and his shoulders fell.
"May I know what he asked you?" He scratched the corner of his mouth.
"Well, he pretty much told me the same thing you and Kathy told me yesterday. Then, he asked me random questions about multiple people from the company. 'How long they've been working there?,' 'How many were new hires?,' 'Did I fire anyone when I took over Wellington?' So he gave me his card and told me he would contact Meryl when she's done with another assignment. He's her lead detective or something like that."
"Okay, good, good." He rubbed his already messy beard and glanced at his feet. "Um, so, is this a good time to talk about us?"
"Dean, I don't know." She rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen. She grabbed a loaf of bread from a basket on the counter top and opened the fridge.
As her head scanned the compartments, Dean dug into a drawer and handed her a block of cream cheese.
"Thanks." She placed her hand on the wrap, but he wouldn't let go of it.
"Allie." The weight loss made his eyes look bigger than they were. His homeless appearance and his brittle voice were not enough to show her how he was feeling inside. "I love you with all the strength of my being."
The wife placed the bread and cheese back on the counter top and dragged him under the morning light.
"I love you, too," she replied.
"Then why do you punish me with your rejection?" He held her jaw.
"I'm not trying to punish you." She sat at the breakfast table and held her head. "I want to get past this. I do. I know you did those things to protect me, but my brain needs time to wrap around those things. I can't stop thinking about the way you humiliated me; how you treated me after s*x. I let you touch me when I thought you didn't love me, so I hurt myself further."
Dean brought his forehead over her temple and held her hand.
"I hate myself for making you feel that way. I thought if we had s*x, it would keep the connection between us. I didn't want you to forget about me and run off with someone else."
"Dean," she stood up, "we have two children together. There isn't a bigger connection than that. And you think I would run off with somebody after everything we've been through. We've never been a normal couple and you know this."
The husband placed his palms together in front of his chest.
"Tell me how I can fix this, please."
"Right now, I have no idea. I was going to tell you this later, but I might as well do this now. I'm moving out. Don't ask me how long. Being in this house is hurting me more. I'll ask the kids if they want to come with me. Please, don't fight it." She left the kitchen before he had time to react.
***
How convenient it was that Dean's old apartment was near the kids' Dojo. As soon as Allie asked Andrew and Daniel if they wanted to spend the summer with her, they said 'yes' without realizing that their dad wasn't coming with them. Their sense of adventure didn't make them question why they were moving into a small apartment until they realized that Kirby drive lacked fun spots for children.
Allie was disappointed at herself for choosing that place to stay. She was a billionaire; she could have chosen to buy or rent another house full of windows and spacious rooms that didn't remind her of Dean.
She was a masochist...or their love surpassed all tribulations and her unconscious was trying to tell her.
Daniel lifted the dust cover from the couch, made it into a bundle and put it down by the door.
"Thanks, cutie," Allie placed and empty suitcase in the dining area. "I'll take those to the laundromat later."
"I'm done folding my clothes," Andrew stood behind her.
"Great."
Daniel dropped on a chair. He and his brother made the same expression, lifting the muscles of half of their faces.
"What's will all the sorrow? Do ya'll want me to give ya'll more chores?" Allie raised her eyebrows.
"Mom, are you and Dad mad at each other?" Asked Andrew.
Allie had expected that question, so she sat down at the table. Andrew did the same.
"No, we're not mad at each other. I know how important this competition is for you both, so we decided it's better if you are closer to the gym—"
"Ugh," Daniel rolled his eyes. "Andrew, I told you she was gonna lie to us."
"Excuse me, I—" Allie was about to tell another lie. Dean had lied to her, so she left. Then, she realized she was doing the same thing to her sons.
"Look, Dad and I aren't mad at each other," she sighed.
"But you're getting a divorce, or then, why are we here?" Asked Daniel.
"We're not getting a divorce right now."
"What about in a month? What about in two months?"
"Okay, okay. We are having some issues that we are trying to solve, and the best way to do that is by being away from each other for a while. This is just a small temporary change."
"So you'll get back together," added Andrew.
"I...Dad and I would like you boys to give us some time to work things out. I don't know the future but what I can tell you is that our love for you both won't change one bit and you can see your dad any time you want."
"Mn," Daniel shut one eye. He glanced at his brother. Neither of them were convinced. They had no other choice but to be in the middle of it all.
***
Kathy placed the last grocery bag on the kitchen counter and formed wrinkles on her forehead. She knew Allie and the boys had left, but the ambiance felt more like a funerary home. The gloom outside added to the dark gray environment.
Dean's car was still outside. His suit jacket hung on the sofa's backrest. Suddenly, she gasped at the sight of a red liquid spilled all over the dining room floor. She tiptoed toward it and noticed broken glass scattered around.
Kathy closed her eyes and wiped the area under her eyes, not allowing her tears to fall to the ground. She blinked twice and went up the stairs.
The second floor looked equally dead. The despair coming from the master bedroom crept out of it like a fog. She opened the door and saw her son lying on the bed.
Dean's eyes were opened although he did not move. His colorless skin and his peeling lips made him look as if he had been dead for days.
"Baby boy," Kathy sat on the bed and caressed his back. "It hasn't been eight hours since she left, and you already look defeated."
"I tried to become an alcoholic, but I hate the taste of alcohol." Only Dean's lips moved.
"And you chose the worst kind of wine to do that. The one we had in the house was for just for cooking."
"I hate myself." He brought his knees up to his stomach.
"Okay, well, would you like me to build a coffin around you or should I lock the door and let the maggots have at it? Either way, she's not coming back."
"What if you call her? Tell her she's the air that I breathe."
"Sure, I'll also tell her to bring your favorite blanket and a glass of milk."
Dean turned his eyeballs toward his mother, then his head, and finally his body.
"I'm serious, Mom."
"Dean Freeman, is this how your father taught you how to be a man?" Kathy rested her knuckles on her hips and stood up. "Do you wanna sit around and cry like a little b***h or do you wanna go get your woman?"
"She doesn't want me, Mom." He sat up and began to sob.
"Yes, she doesn't want the man who lied to her and kicked her out of the house. She wants Dean Freeman, the man she married; the one who owns up to his mistakes and is not afraid to fight for her."
He looked up at her. He felt his heart beating again and warming up his body. He clenched onto the bed sheet and bit his thumb nail.
"I need to show her that I haven't changed," he got off the bed and grabbed his clothes.
"Wait, wait, wait," she blocked the bedroom door. "Shower, shave, haircut. You smell like sewer," she clapped and pointed at the bathroom.
"Okay." He dropped his clothes and torpedoed into the bathroom.
- Writer
