Wifey Talk [COMPLETED, 18+]

Part Sixty-two

SOFIA'S POV

The next day, I call Ioane to do something that I'm dreading: I'm going to tell him to give me some space because I'm going to try to make things work with James. I just know the conversation is going to make me cry, so I've been putting it off throughout the day. It's already nighttime, and I still haven't talked to Ioane. Before I can chicken out any further, I dial his number.

He picks up on the first ring. "Aloha Sofia!"

I hate how cheerful he sounds. I'm going to ruin his day, aren't I?

"Aloha Ioane," I say.

He knows something is wrong by the tone of my voice. "Is everything okay?" He asks me hesitantly.

I pause. There are tears in my voice when I speak. "No, it's not okay."

"What's wrong?" He asks sympathetically. 

"You should just hate me," I tell him. "It's okay if you hate me. And if you never want to talk to me again, I completely understand."

"Sofia, what's going on? I'm confused."

"We can't do this anymore. I can't be calling you or visiting you."

His face drops, and my heart squeezes in my chest. "What do you mean?"

"I talked to James, and he and I are going to try to make this marriage work for real. He said he's going to be exclusive with me. I have to give my marriage a chance before I run off with you," I tell him honestly.

"Do you believe him?" Ioane's voice comes out dry. "Can he actually commit to you?"

I sigh. "I don't know. I'm opening myself up for a lot of heartbreak, but I have to try."

He looks completely devastated, and it makes me burst into tears. "I'm so sorry Ioane. I should've never let you get close to me. All I've done is hurt you." I want to tell him that I love him so much, but I know it will only make things worse. I keep quiet instead.

"Shh, that's not true. Loving you is the best decision I've made in years. I don't regret a second of it. I understand if you want to try things out with James, but when they don't work out, I'm going to be waiting for you."

"Ioane, you can't wait for me," I say, breaking my own heart. "You need to try and move on because I don't want you to be hurting over me. Promise me you'll try to move on. Promise," I say.

He looks at me with a frown. "Sofia, I can't just—"

"—promise!" I say forcefully.

He sighs. "Fine. I'll do my best to move on. I'll forget all about you. Is that what you want to hear?"

I nod my head, tears springing to my eyes.

"Goodbye Sofia," he says.

"Goodbye Ioane," I whisper, ending the call. I burst into tears, which is where James finds me full-on hyperventilating on the floor.

"Sofia! Sofia! What's wrong? Tell me what happened?"

He crouched down next to me, looking into my eyes. I'm crying so hard that he seems like a blurry mess to me. "I-I told Ioane to forget all about me. I didn't want to lie to him about trying with you."

I start crying harder, and James looks at me with an expression of shock on his face.

~~~
JAMES' POV

She told Ione about wanting to be exclusive with me? She really is trying to make this work. Happiness bubbles up in my chest. She won't ever have to see that fucker again if I have anything to do with it. I move to wrap my arms around Sofia to comfort her, but she stops me.

"P-please don't touch me. I-I've had enough." I recoil like I've been stung. She doesn't want me to touch her?

That night, she changes into her negligee and cries herself to sleep on the couch. I can't believe she refuses to get in bed with me. The next morning, she awakens with puffy eyes, and I give her a cup of coffee to help her wake up. Hopefully she will accept it. Fortunately, she takes the hot drink from me, sipping slowly.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her.

She says nothing, shaking her head.

We don't speak that entire morning, and she doesn't even kiss me goodbye before work. It's the first time she's been here, and we haven't kissed before I've headed into the office. The whole day, my thoughts are preoccupied by her. Have I broken her down? All she can seem to do is cry now. She refuses to let me even touch her.

Mara comes into the office, locking the door behind her. She begins to get down on her knees, but I stop her.

"We have to stop this. I can't," I tell her.

She frowns at me. "Why not?"

"I'm married."

"So? You've been married this entire time."

"Well, we're working on it. Just get out of my office Mara."

She glares at me but storms out nevertheless. I have to live with the fact that I've majorly upset two women within the last 24 hours. Work seems impossible to complete with Mara avoiding me all day, but I do my best. At the end of the day, I'm exhausted.

When I arrive home at the end of the workday, Sofia is still crying herself to sleep. She sees me come into the bedroom and stops. Then she gets out of bed, walks into the bathroom, and turns on the shower. She probably thinks I can't hear her sobbing with the water running, but she's wrong. My heart breaks listening to her fall apart, and I can't believe it took me this long to tell her I wanted us to be exclusive. Why am I such a fucking idiot? I just had to break her into a million pieces.

She gets out of the shower and crawls into bed in one of her negligees. Her hair is dripping wet. "Sofia, you're going to get sick with your hair wet like that. Let me brush through it."

Her eyes settle on mine, and I'm struck by how haunted she looks. Without saying anything, she sits down on the bed in front of me and hands me a comb.

I take the opportunity to run the brush through her hair, working it through her knotted tresses slowly. She doesn't say anything while I work, and I take my time brushing through her damp locks. It takes about twenty minutes to get through her hair, and then she crawls into bed without eating.

For the next two weeks, she barely talks to me. Every morning she accepts the coffee I make her. We stop kissing before I go to work, and she quits eating breakfast with me. As far as I can tell, she quits eating meals entirely. I watch her drop fifteen pounds in two weeks, until she's thinner than I've ever seen her before.

We don't talk at all, and she doesn't read to me before bed. For some reason, in our efforts to become exclusive, we've stopped communicating altogether. When I talk to Jackson about it, he tells me to give her space. I don't know how much space I can handle though. She's already avoiding me like the plague.