Memories That Still Haunt Us

Chapter Sixty-One: Ellis

My phone rings as I'm headed home from work. Gretchen's husband, Sam, flashes on the stereo screen. Confused, I pick up my phone from the cup holder and answer the call. "Hello?"

"Ellis, hi!" He says, his voice too chipper, giving away that there is an ulterior motive to his call. My brows furrow as I stop at a red light. "How are you today?"

"Fine." I reply curtly. "Can I help you with something?" Sam and I aren't mates. We've chatted briefly here and there when our wives would run into each other. We went on a few double dates, forcing me to endear forced conversations on his end. I'm not one for small talk—especially not with the type of people Millie would surround herself with. They weren't our friends. All fake, all gossip, all bored rich people who knew I was not one of them—not really anyways. The lack of things in common was clear from the beginning.

"Well, Ellis—" He says my name as if he's an authoritative figure. As if he's a headmaster at school. "I just, you know, we're friends, yeah? I just wanted to give you a heads up that Gretchen came home today after picking up our son from school and informed me that news is going around about you having an affair, supposedly, with that nanny of yours."

My jaw tightens. My fingers clench the steering wheel tightly. "Oh?" I ask, my voice vacant of emotion.

"Obviously, I wouldn't believe something like that, given how in love you and Millie seemed to be."

Fucking knob. I roll my eyes.

"But Gretchen said it came directly from the nanny herself. She's the one who told her and Courtney today. Apparently, it's been going on for quite some time now? I've got to say, Ellis, that with a nanny like yours, I probably would've done the same. I mean, what was Millie thinking about hiring someone as sexy as that young thing? Phew." Sam lets out an obnoxious laugh that makes my spine stiffen. "Anyway, just know, I'm not judging you. If anything, I want to come over and applaud you. Shit, you better let me know if she has any other young friends. What is she, eighteen?"

"Sam, I appreciate you letting me know." I reply through clenched teeth. "I better go. I've just returned home." I end the call before I say something I regret and slam my phone down into the seat beside me. "Fuck!" I yell and punch the steering wheel.

Why the fuck would she tell people? And Gretchen and Courtney, of all people! Now everybody knows. Now her parents are going to know. Now I'm seriously fucked. I feel so much rage towards Reign suddenly that it scares me. When I pull into the driveway of our house, I try to calm myself down. I breathe deeply in and out of my nose. I want to hurt Reign. Her immaturity, her complete lack of awareness. She can be so fucking stupid.

I roughly rub my face with my hands before getting out of the car. Stepping through the front door, the house is mostly dark, with light seeping out from the kitchen. Jazz music plays softly from there, and I smell freshly cooked pasta. Why the fuck does she always cook for me? Like some sixties housewife? I never asked her to do any of that. It's as if she's trying to create this romantic fantasy. This love story.

It's not that I don't care for Reign or have appreciated the times we've shared together, but I certainly am not in love with her. I love her body. I love the way she's able to distract me. I love knowing she will do anything for me. I love how sexy she is, how it seeps out of her through every movement and through everything she does.

In the kitchen, I see her pulling breadsticks out of the oven. She's wearing a black dress that falls to her ankles. It enunciates all her curves. I allow myself a moment to stare before remembering what she's done. I drop my keys on the counter, alerting her to my presence. When she sees me, a smile lights up on her face, and her eyes look over me, taking me in. She places the sheet of breadsticks on top of the stove.