AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bad dreams were an infrequent but still a normal occurrence before Kimber and I got married. She was used to the marks I left on her when I’d lash out or grab her in the middle of the night. She accepted the risk of sleeping in my bed and went as far as to cover up her bruises. Never out of shame for being abused, but to protect me from the torment I felt when I saw I’d hurt her. My wife’s burden weighs heavily on me, and it keeps the cycle going. Internalizing my misery for the unconscious abuse when all I wanted to be was her protector, the dreams rage on, making the situation worse.
I trusted Byron with my life overseas. He was a former confidant I’d lost touch with until a short while ago. During the few hours I’ve spent with him and the dogs on weekends, I’ve opened up about shit that’s bugging me the same way I’d done when Byron and I were deployed. Although, so far, I haven’t acknowledged the work I do for Jake. That’s taught me the fine art of silence. Keeping your trap shut is better than giving anyone ammunition against you or accidentally dragging someone decent down a dirt road they shouldn’t be traveling.
I’m not sure I belong on this path either. But I made the choice to join my friends before Kimber and my marriage were ever a glimmer. Carver, Jake, and I were a bunch of angry guys, who decided to use the world to our advantage the way we felt as we’d been taken advantage of. Consequences be damned. Years later, I’m a man who realizes he’s cursed himself and there’s no turning back the clock.
With Tallulah obviously ready to work, Byron puts us through our final paces here at the facility. My support animal may not need the over-the-top coaching, but I appreciate she’s been raised alongside the best. Tallulah is a year old and Byron found her through an owner who was about to surrender her to the animal shelter when she was only a few months. He encouraged Kimber and me to come meet her and, once we had my wife’s seal of approval, Byron took her in. I’d thought we were taking her home right away, but he’s strict with his dogs and her training… And mine.
Every weekend I show up and Byron teaches me what I need to know so my pup and I can get along. Afterward, we play out in the fenced field. Tallulah and Jovie chase balls and blow off steam. I feed her treats and we bond. Lately, leaving her when the session is over is akin to when I leave Owen. This dog keeps taking little pieces of my heart, and I’m glad to finally be bringing her home.
“How have things been?” Byron asks, pitching a stick for Jovie.
The storm has passed. We’re outside. Tallulah is galloping back toward me, her mouth around a ball she’s fetched. She stops by a mud puddle, drops it, and sniffs. I drag her attention back to me with a whistle and happily she forgets and trots back the rest of the way with her toy.
“Wish O were as easy to distract,” I josh. “He’d have been knee deep in that.”
“You lucked out this time since she’s playing. I can only train so much instinct out of her.” Byron goes on with an affable warning, “Talulah is a hound. Plots were bred to work in a group to bring down large animals like bears. It’s in her nature to hunt. You have to maintain control. She has to stay on a leash when you’re out and about or she’s going to take off on you when you least expect it. Dogs are dogs. Even the best ones will surprise a person and nip. Even the most obedient have minds of their own and will act on impulse. You respect her and she’ll be inclined to do the same, keep following your lead, and want to please you. Be the alpha and she’ll fall into line.”
“Should I worry about her with O?” We don’t have sentimental pictures of me sleeping with our newborn on my chest. I was too fearful of what might happen if I jerked. I won’t even lie down in my son’s bed now if he’s sick or tired. We snuggle upright and in a chair to read books.
I understand the last thing any parent wants is their kid getting hurt, but it’s my mental health that causes the problem in my home. In good conscience, I can’t sleep next to my child, and I can’t be bringing in an animal to help me with my issues that’ll be a danger to Owen.
“Would you leave your kid unsupervised with someone you don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t leave him with some people I do know.”
“There’s your answer. Owen and Tallulah are going to grow up together. But they still need time to get comfortable with each other… You didn’t answer my question, by the way.”
“What question was that?”
“Asshole.” Byron’s conscious I’m avoiding and doesn’t hold back.
“Jerkface,” I grouse. “Things are ok. Not great.” I won’t lie. “Kimber’s frustrated. I am too. Who knew after trying so hard not to accidentally knock the wrong woman up, it would be hard to do a second time with the right one? I think she’s close to throwing in the towel.” It’s hard for me to ignore the bitterness in my voice.
“It’s not you or her.” Byron knows we went through a battery of tests when Kimber started taking fertility drugs. “So what is it?”
“Beats me. Bad timing?” I would have waited forever for my wife to be ready to have our son. Yet in my worst moments—when Kimber is devastated and I can’t fix it for her—I wonder if I should have pushed her to start trying to have a baby before Aidy turned eighteen.
Retrospect has me analyzing every move I’ve made. I’ve gone as far as making deals with a God I half-heartedly believe in. I’ve compromised with the devil enough times. I’m running out of options other than to pray there’s something bigger out there that can heal this gaping wound she’s carrying.
Stupid me, I thought falling for our baby boy and watching him be carried about the house by his older sister would be the salve to heal every heartbreak. I hadn’t expected watching the babies Kimber gave birth to bond would agitate the bruising and leave us with a new form of grief.
It’s not just her sadness that’s putting us through the wringer. It’s the sum of the parts. I want another kid for her, and I want one for me.
Between baby stress and Jake bullshit, I’m punchier than ever. If something doesn’t give soon, I’m going to need to start sleeping on the couch because of the flailing I do at night.
“For a single guy, your interest in my wife’s nether regions is concerning.”
I may be balking, but I’m also the one who opened up about this to Byron. He’s not overstepping. Besides my wife and her doctor, there’s no one else to talk to about it. Even if my friend doesn’t have the first clue what we’re dealing with, I appreciate his concern.
Byron opens his mouth, chawing a piece of gum he’s been chomping between his molars since we grabbed our hats and jackets. “Man, your wife is hot. Doubt I’m the only one wondering. All I’m saying is if this isn’t a job you’re up for, I’m glad to stand in for you.”
He chuckles and I growl.
Byron shoves my shoulder. “Relax, fucker.”
“Nobody else is wondering, and I’m pretty sure that’s the worst advice I’ve heard,” I mutter. Then I call my dog and pull Tallulah’s leash from my back pocket.
Byron still has a snarky look on his face. It’s the one that he used when we were bunkmates and I was bullshit over whatever was going awry and, same as always, it’s telling me to chill out. This too shall pass, and my hard focus on it is making matters worse. Byron is the only man on this earth who knows me as well as Carver and Jake.
