Taste The Rainbow

My Sister's Husband~Part One

My Sister's Husband

"I can't do it anymore, Isaac." My best friend of fifteen years, Ash, states in absolute misery, his voice even cracks a bit from the amount of effort it’s taking not to cry. Of course, I stay silent, keeping my thoughts to myself so I don't say something to make him even more miserable.

See, he's complaining about his wife of not even five years. She doesn't do anything he wants, she complains anytime he asks her to do something, she's lazy, and apparently, she doesn't satisfy his s****l hunger. Sadly, his wife also happens to be my sister, my older sister nonetheless. So I really can't pick sides, I have to stay neutral even though I'm on Ash's side.

Unfortunately, I have yet to figure out if I'm on his side because he's my friend because he's right, or because I'm in love with him.

I tell myself it's because he's right, but I know it's a lie.

"I don't know what to do, I can't take any more of this." I nod in understanding, keeping my mouth shut tight so I don't screw everything up by blurting something terrible like 'I'm so sorry but I love you and I think we should run away together.' or 'well, I guess now would be a great time to tell you I love you, always have, and secretly want you to break my sister's heart so I can have you all to myself.'

Rather than saying anything of that nature, I push those feelings down and say something that probably won't help but will sound better than a love confession.

"It'll get better." It's a total lie, I don't know that it'll get better, and I doubt it will because my sister isn't one of those people that change over time-- she's always going to be this way. But if he knows I'm lying to him he doesn't let on and instead nods from his position on my bed across from me. He sits up a bit, holding himself up on his elbows, to stare intensely into my gray eyes with his hazel ones.

"You remember when we were younger-- you were seventeen and I was nineteen-- the few months when we would video chat?" He questions and I stiffen. I know he's been drinking, it was evident not from the stench radiating off him in waves, but because he's a bit looser with what he says and does.

So I'm not surprised that he asked me this even though that was over five years ago. Shortly after my seventeenth birthday Ash and my sister broke up from their nearly year relationship. I was always close to Ash but he moved after the break up so we started video chatting. Well, after a month or so things became intense, and I thought for those brief few months that I would finally be able to have him.

But I was wrong. Ash moved back and we continued our intense relationship, for about a month. Then, one day, out of the blue my sister called me. She told me she had gotten back together with Ash, and though it hurt I congratulated her. After that day I decided I needed to forget those past few months, but I never could, I could never forget the feeling of being with Ash for even that short of time.

I shake my head though, keeping the promise I made to myself about forgetting it all before I speak up. "No, can't say that I do, you know I have a terrible memory."

Liar! My brain screeches at me but I can't help it, I had to lie. If I admit I remember he'll be more likely to go one about how he should have given me a chance, that he should have gotten together with me and not my sister Tina.

And that would be more painful than just sitting here, listening to him b***h as he lays in an awfully suggestive position on my bed. Not to mention, hearing him tell me he should have gotten together with me gives me foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he'll choose to leave her for me.

Of course, those thoughts leave me not only depressed but also guilty. I should never root for anyone's marriage to fail, especially not my own sister's marriage. Then comes the guilt, the guilt that tells me I'm a horrible person for thinking those thoughts, for wishing their marriage would fail so I could finally have a real chance with Ash.

"I don't want to go back home tonight, can I just stay with you for a few days to cool down?" He asks his words slurring from the amount of alcohol he must have consumed before coming here. This is a normal routine though, I'm not at all surprised he asked. Not only does he always come here to vent after one of his legendary fights with Tina, but he also drinks, and ends up staying the night in my home, in my bed. And while he stays in my bed, leaving his scent all over my bedding, leaving me to jerk off in my shower when he's asleep and sleep on my couch.

"Of course, you can always stay as long as you want," I reply, smiling softly as he closes his eyes, already falling into unconsciousness. I sigh, getting up from my seat on my desk chair to help get him more comfortable. I take off his shoes and strip him of his tight blue button up shirt that seems to have some vomit on it. I lift him into my arms so I can pull the covers down and place him back on the bed, pulling the covers over his lean half naked body.

I leave the room after I turn his phone on silent and turn out the light, heading to the basement to take a shower and throw his shirt in the washer. Of course, the shower doesn't go well, it never does when knowing the man I love is sleeping in my bed just two floors above me. I change into a pair of pajama pants that I grabbed from my room before departing and lay down on my couch I have in my basement.

My sleep isn't any better than my shower was. I was restless all night, tossing and turning. And of course, it's obvious that I didn't get any sleep from the dark bruises under my bloodshot eyes. I brush my teeth and go through my morning ritual before I lounge on my couch to watch TV, not ready to go make breakfast or wake up Ash.

I know it's wrong and selfish but any time he stays here I try not to wake him, just so I can be near him longer, even if I'm not spending time with him it's still nice to have him here.

Eventually though, when there's nothing left on TV to watch, I go upstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast. I make eggs, pancakes, waffles, bacon, and toast for breakfast before I head up to my bedroom to wake Ash. I walk through the door, not surprised when I see Ash wrapped around the top sheet, the comforter laying in a heap on the floor.

He's hugging a pillow to his chest tightly, his black hair sticking up in odd ends with his entire body tense. I move from the doorway to the side of the bed so I can wake him but before I can try he moans. I cease my movements, freezing in place as I ponder what he could possibly be dreaming about.

Then his body spasms and he releases a whimper. I stare in both worry and fascination as I realize he's probably having a nightmare. And while most people would wake a person from a nightmare I can't help but continue to stay frozen in place as I wonder what he's dreaming of.

"No." He mumbles, pain lacing his voice so heavily it leaves a lump in my throat. He whimpers once more, tightening his grip on the pillow, and I decide now is probably a good time to wake him.

"Ash," I call as I reach out to shake his shoulder, hoping he'll wake up. As I hoped he wakes up but what surprises me is when he yanks my wrist, replacing the pillow with my body as he holds me tight against his chest.

"Isaac." He whimpers, burying his face in the crook of my neck while I lay there motionless, stiff in his arms from shock. This is a side of Ash I've never seen, and a part of me likes it, likes that he's holding me against his bare chest, allowing our skin to touch.

He seems to calm down but while he's calming down I'm being lacerated by pain. Pain from laying here in his arms, but unable to do anything other than simply being here for him. If I thought it was painful to listen to him complain about how he should have chosen me, I was wrong. Being forced to lay in his arms, feel our skin touch, feel the electricity between us, is more painful than anything I've ever endured.

"Ash, come on, let me go. I made breakfast." I urge him, my voice cracking a bit but I clear my throat quickly, hoping he won't notice. He seems to take a deep breath before pulling away from me, leaving me feeling hollow without his strong arms around me.

"Sorry, I just had a really bad nightmare." He explains while he gets out of my bed, stretching right in front of me, allowing me to watch his muscles bunch together and twitch.

"It's fine, man, really." I lie, forcing a small laugh to escape my mouth. He smiles hesitantly but nods and leaves my room. Shortly thereafter I follow him down the stairs into the kitchen where all the food I made is still steaming, the sweet smell of syrup and pancakes mingled with the savory smell of bacon causes my stomach to growl in anticipation.

"Ugh, my head is killing me." He mumbles with a groan after we both make a plate of food. I roll my eyes at this, already familiar with the drill.

He tells me his head is killing him, I get some Aspirin for him, he declines the offer, I tell him to shut up and take them then he takes them and thanks me. So I leave my seat, dig through the cabinet, and come out with a bottle of Aspirin. I take out two pills and place them in front of Ash's half empty plate.

"Take those, it'll help you feel better," I order but he rolls his eyes at me.

"I'll be fine." He replies and I sigh, rubbing my temples as I contemplate taking two more pills out for myself in case this exchange gives me a headache.

"Just take them," I order once more, my voice sharper than before. He glares at me for a while before rolling his eyes and taking the pills in defeat.

"Thanks." He mutters in obvious relief after swallowing the pills with a large gulp of orange juice.

"No problem," I reply, putting the Aspirin back and taking my seat once more. We eat in silence until Ash looks down at his bare chest, seeming to notice his lack of clothing for the first time.

"What happened to my shirt?" He asks, his eyes flashing with, panic? That confuses me, since when did he panic if he was shirtless around me? A sickening thought occurs to me, making me lose my appetite, a small part of my brain suggests that he figured out my infatuation with him.

"I took it off last night to wash it, you vomited on it. Plus I assumed it would be more comfortable to be without it while you sleep." I explain, pushing my own panicked thoughts away for now.

Relief rushes through his eyes and he nods in understanding but stuffs his mouth with food so he doesn't have to reply to my explanation. I push my own plate away though, my appetite has gone from my earlier thoughts. Rather than eat I decide to start a casual conversation, but before I can even get a single word out my cell phone begins to ring from the counter behind me.

I sigh and send Ash an apologetic look before I get out of my chair. I grab my phone and check the caller ID then freeze when I see who it is. My sister, Tina. Of course, because now is such a great time to call me, now while I'm eating breakfast with her husband and resisting my many urges to do sinful things to him.

"Hey," I answer the phone on the third ring, even though I'd rather ignore her call altogether. I leave the kitchen, not wanting Ash to get worked up about Tina calling.

"Did Ashton go to your house last night? I want to come pick him up so we can talk." She adds but the way she says talk is obvious that she plans to yell at him some more rather than talk like civilized adults. So, for the sake of not just my own sanity but also my best friend's sanity, I lie, again.

"No, he didn't. He probably got a hotel or something. You should let him cool down, he'll come to talk to you when he's ready, just be patient." I add, feeling only slightly terrible for lying to her for my own personal gain.

"Dammit, I don't want to wait for him. I am so sick and tired of his s**t. He's so irritating, and he's always on me about stupid crap. Really, will it really matter if the dishes stay in the sink another hour so I can have a break from all the cleaning he wants me to do?" She rants some more but I tune out, holding my own rant back.

I would love to yell at her, asking her how she can't see how lucky she is. Ash is a great guy, he's funny, he's usually easy going, and he's so nice. But she doesn't seem to see this, all she sees are the worst parts of him; his drinking, his bossiness. He wouldn't be drinking or bossy if she just listened to him, did what he wanted, made him happy.

I could make him so much happier. That terrible part of my brain sneers as it goes on to torture me with the fantasy of being able to make him happy, being able to be completely truthful with him.

"Are you even listening to me?!" My sister screeches from the other end of the phone, leaving my ears ringing as I snap out of my sinful thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry. I know, that's terrible." I assume even though I have no clue what she just told me.

"I know! Ugh, I can't even stand him anymore. Seriously, Isaac, I'm considering just ending it all." She adds in aggravation. And though I know it's wrong, though I know she doesn't mean it, my heart soars at the thought of them getting a divorce because then I could have my fair chance with Ash.

"You don't mean that," I state though it nearly breaks my heart to state the obvious. But that's a good thing, it's better to get hurt after I shatter my delusions rather than get crushed when I try to get together with Ash.

"Yeah, I do. I'm so sick of this, I don't want to deal with him anymore. I don't think I can spend the rest of my life with him, I really don't." She sighs and I clench my free fist up, trying not to get angry with her.

"Okay. Well, I'm sorry but I have to get going, I have to do a few things around the house before it gets too late." I lie once more.

"Alright, whatever. If you see Ashton please tell him to come back home so we can talk about this." She adds and I nod, not bothering to say anything more before I end the call.

I walk back into the kitchen where the food has long since cooled, the fresh smells now replaced with clean air. Ash is already staring at the doorway where I came from, he probably got done eating and decided to wait for me so we could talk or something.

"Was that Tina?" He questions knowingly and I silently nod, placing the plates in hot water to soak.

"Yeah, she wants you to go home so you two can talk," I explain, keeping my back to him while I rinse the dishes so he doesn't see anything that may give away my irritated thoughts. Irritated thoughts that I shouldn't even have about my own sister.

I should love my sister unconditionally, want her to be happy. But even though I know this I can't help the thoughts that cheer at the mere thought of the two getting a divorce.

"She doesn't want to talk, she wants to yell at me. I am so sick of her, why can't she just do what I ask? Or even calmly tell me she doesn't want to do it rather than getting mad at me. I'm so sick of it, Isaac, I can't take it anymore." He adds, repeating his words from last night. I've heard it all before, they both tell me they're done, they're sick of it all, but then a week later they're both happy and being sickly sweet again.

That's what usually happens anyway, they fight, Ash comes here to rant to me about Tina yelling at him, he stays the night, I make breakfast, then he goes back home to talk to Tina and they make up which for some reason they insist on telling me, including how they had made up s*x which is just as painful as when Ash says he can't take it anymore. What doesn't happen though, is Ash wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

I stiffen in his arms, wondering what he's doing. He buries his face in the crook of my neck like he did this morning, his warm breath hitting my neck in such a way that it gives me goosebumps.

"Would you ever give me, us, another chance?" He whispers against my neck and my heart clenches in so much pain it makes me nearly drop a soapy plate on the floor. I swallow hard, trying to stay calm even with so many emotions running through me. Pain, anger, confusion, and worst of all, excitement.

"What?" I ask, barely able to keep my voice steady as pain lacerates me to my core.

"I should have chosen you, I should have given you a chance, I just thought I loved her. But I don't love her as much as I love you." He murmurs against my neck. I blink a few times, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat because this has never happened before.

Ash has never done anything like this, he'll hint about his feelings, and tell me he doesn't want to be with my sister anymore, but he's never outright told me that he loves me more than her, or even told me he loves me at all.

I fight the urge to turn in his arms, tell him I would give him another chance, and kiss him. Instead, I turn in his arms and push him back roughly, feeling my heart lurch in pain once more as I leave his warm embrace.

"No, you can't do this Ash. You love Tina, I know you do. You can't screw it all up just because you had a fight. You can't do this to Tina and you can't do this to me. You need to suck it up and go make up with Tina before you do something you regret." I snap in anger, though the anger is just masking my pain.

Pain that will only worsen when he does what I tell him and makes up with my sister. Then I'll be forced to laugh about this when things are okay with them, and I'll be stuck downing a forty-ounce bottle of Jack Daniels.

"I don't love her though, I thought I did but I don't. I don't love her anymore. I love you, I want you, I want to spend every last minute with you, not her." He explains, adoration clear in his hazel eyes. When he reaches out to caress my cheek, I snap, literally.

"Stop it! You can't keep doing this to me! Can't you see how much pain you're putting me through by saying that?! I have been in love with you for over ten years, but you chose her! You chose her instead of me and I've been trying to accept that but you make it so much harder when you do things like this. You give me false hope, false hope that I may have another chance with you. But do I? Do I ever get that chance? No. I just get more pain when you two make up. Now please, just leave."