The Love Affair

Chapter Twenty Seven

We didn't really talk afterwards. I didn't think we really needed to. We just laid next to one another in silence in his bed. I wasn't quite sure how we ended up here. It was all a blur. Skin to skin. Lips to lips. And the next thing I knew we were naked tangled up in his sheets after already committing the deed downstairs.

Shane's legs were entangled with mine. The warmth of his skin pressing against me ignited shards of electricity, the embrace of his large, muscular arms enveloping me, hoarded safety, and the sudden pressing softness of his lips kissing the top of my head showered me with complete affection. I loved this. My own sanctuary within his arms. I loved how just being here with him could send all my troubles, the reality flying away. It was just obviously wicked that I was insistent on keeping him whilst refusing to part ways with my husband.

"We're not always going to be able to do this," he muttered, breaking the silence between us both. He began to shuffle, stirring our embrace as he sat up and rested his brown locks of hair against the leather headboard. I readjusted my position, crawling up as before laying my head against his firm abdomen. I had been stupid to think his apparent frustration could be completely eradicated by sex. Shane was clearly still torn. He didn't want me with Nick. He knew I shouldn't be with Nick. "Rose, I'm trying. I want to wait for you---"

--"Don't," I interjected as I sat up. The cream quilt slipping further down my torso.

Shane exhaled softly as he raked his fingers through his bedraggled hair. He must have sensed my stubbornness to remain mute. He knew there wasn't no point in arguing. I was difficult to argue with.

I couldn't stand to see him so despondent. "Shane." My fingers grasped his hands. "I—"

His hands slid from my own. "I think we need time alone. I think you need the time to think what you really want, Rose. And I mean what you really want. I can't do this. I can't share you," he butted in, unhesitant as he moved out of the bed and grabbed his grey boxers off the carpet floor.

"Shane. Don't," I pleaded, dragging myself from the bed as I scuttled along with the quilt wrapped around my body trying to reach him. He dropped his head, standing at the end of the bed, looking more in despair as if lost upon a dark, stormy sea.

"You need time, Rose. I think you should leave," he replied, refusing to dare look me in the eyes.

I opened my mouth before closing it tightly shut. The stubborn half of me was fuelled with abrupt anger as I threw the quilt down and hastily began to reclaim my clothes off the floor. He didn't say a word.

I couldn't help my bitterness towards him even if I was to blame. "You know what! Fine! I'm going! I won't ever come around here again!" I spat, throwing my top over my head quickly. He didn't even flinch. "You know this is all your fault! You're the one who initiated this! You! You!" I shouted, flinging one of the pillows off the bed at him. Shane caught it but refused to respond agitating me more as I stood there blaring with rage. "I'm married! You came onto me!" Then I shook my head as I stalked out of the room, the quiet steps of his own tracing mine.

"We're done!" I hissed just as I reached the front door. Shane's face was unreadable. And that angered me even more. I didn't stop myself as I shoved him hard before marching out and slamming the door behind me. Fury was burning throughout my veins. I didn't even look back as I headed towards my house, struggling to find stability as I rummaged through my set of keys.

The tears suddenly dawned on me. They were streaming down my face like a floodgate being left open. I hardly knew how I managed to open the door. But as soon as I did, I rushed in and closed it hard, struggling to choke back my emotions of utter misery. Everything was just a wreck. I had not only cheated on Nick. I had lost the only person I could see myself building a life with. And truthfully, I knew deep down it was all my fault, regardless if Shane had tempted me initially. In the end game, I was the batter hitting the ball, I was playing my part.