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“First, you told me not to push. Then you rebuff my advances. I’m trying not to draw unreasonable conclusions but you and Lakeshia are making it difficult not to feel shut out of my marriage.”
Shinji shifts in his seat but volunteers nothing.
“I knew this was going to happen.” I shake my head and stand. “She’s already come between us.”
“You’re wrong, Keishi-kun. It’s just not my story to tell. I promised not to pressure her. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
I spin away from him. “I wish I believed you, but from the very beginning, she’s gravitated toward you. I’ll never be the one she needs.”
“That’s not true.” Shinji cups my shoulder, but I rebuff his conciliatory gesture and shrug his hand away. “Just give her time. She’ll get the help she needs and one day she’ll share her story with you.”
“And what does she need right now?” I ask instead of demanding why they won’t consider my needs.
What right do I have to put my desires above those of my husband and lover? Is she even my lover if I’m nothing but an unnecessary appendage? My world is only right when I provide for the people who mean the most to me. They give my life meaning when everything else is chaos. But if they don’t need me…
“She doesn’t know what she needs, and I’m at a loss for ways to help her discover it.” A sense of powerlessness colors Shinji’s response.
“So time is the only thing I can give her.” I bob my head up and down, deciding the path I’ll follow despite the pain headed my way. Making sacrifices isn’t hard to do when my relationship with Shinji is on the line.
“What will you do?” he asks.
“The only thing I can.” I re-enter the house to catch Lakeshia by the door.
I hand her Tora but can’t muster up a smile at her awkwardness in dealing with the cat.
Why is she by the door? I shake my head, discarding the flickering hope that she followed us because of concern for me. The way I called Shinji out probably compelled her. I almost convince myself I don’t care if she overheard our conversation. After sparing her another glance, I head toward our bedroom. Shinji and Lakeshia follow behind like wraiths, haunting me without a hint of how to exorcise their demons.
When I retrieve a suitcase, panic replaces the wary look on Lakeshia’s face.
“Where are you going?” She places a hand on my forearm, and I flinch from the unexpected pain of her touch.
It’s the first time she’s initiated contact with me since her return, and it’s not from wanting or needing the connection.
I gently displace her hand and continue packing. “Until there’s a solution one way or the other, I think it’s best if I limit my presence here.”
“You’re leaving us?”
The disappointment in her tone must be my imagination working overtime, I’m so desperate to be needed by her.
“I’ll be at the old house,” I say, referencing the mansion Katsuo lived in prior to moving in with Portia.
I spare them a last fleeting glance before leaving.
At Katsuo’s place, I wander aimlessly until I reach the basement. An image of Shinji pops into my head, but I shake him free. If I dwell on my need for him, I’ll ruin any good I’m doing by going back. With my preferred physical outlet out of the question, I turn to the weaponry on the wall. I don’t know how long I contemplate which to choose, but the shifting air passing me and Katsuo’s body walking to the wall snap me out of limbo.
“How did you know I was here?”
He snaps his head in my direction without answering me. He’s my closest cousin for a reason. We don’t always need words to communicate our thoughts.
“What did Shinji tell you?”
Katsuo returns his attention to the wall and selects two yari spears then throws one for me to catch. “You needed support he can’t give you.”
“I’m married to a considerate asshole.”
“Asshole, yes. Considerate? I’m not convinced. He’s always had more mouth than sense.”
“I may be in my feelings, but I won’t let you talk shit about my husband” I glare at Katsuo until he bobs his head in understanding.
