Fractured Affections (The Affections Series Book 1) by Elizabeth Wills Page A

you in the past, when he left, but can you think about how difficult things have been for him? Think about all the things we have kept hidden all of these years. We are not perfect. He came back into our lives to help our family when I needed him. One phone call was all it took, with no questions asked. Please don’t think for a moment that he ever stopped caring about either of us.”
    Why does he have to be so kind to everyone all the time? It’s part of the reason why I love him so much, but when he expects me to be able to show the same level of kindness I have a hard time agreeing. We speak for a little while longer about the boys and how they are holding up in Dalton’s absence. I hang up with the promise of an early phone call, so that Dalton can speak to all of us before we start our day.
    I roll over, close my eyes, and burrow down into bed. I feel more at ease since hearing Dalton’s voice. I finally begin to doze off, when suddenly I’m jerked awake by a loud noise coming from the living room. I sit straight up in bed and feel my heartbeat race. I listen closer and definitely hear someone downstairs. I wonder if Striker is home. Slowly I slide my feet to the floor. My pulse is pounding in my ears as I make my way down the hall.
    When my feet hit the stairs, I bend forward to peek into the living room and notice Striker standing there, trying to right the picture frames that he knocked over.
    “Shit! Just stay up would ya?” he slurs.
    I watch him while giggling to myself for a few minutes before heading down to help him.
    “Striker, are you okay? I can take care of that.”
    I reach out to touch his shoulder. As soon as my fingers graze his shirt, he spins around and out of my reach. I step back when I notice the rage in his eyes as he takes me in.
    “Sorry to startle you. I just heard a loud noise and was afraid someone broke in. I just freak out easy because of the kids.”
    He is still just standing there staring at me. I’m becoming very nervous and uneasy. I have seen Striker sad, depressed, and mad, but never like this. This is pure rage, an anger that scares me to see. It’s been so long since we have had a connection that I don’t know how to react. What if I make the wrong move, what will he do? My feet are cemented to the floor. I’m trying to appear calm, so that I don’t further aggravate him.
    Striker starts to walk in my direction, and I’m forced to retreat until my back hits the wall. He towers over me and outweighs me by at least one hundred pounds. His hands crash against the wall next to my head, causing me to jump. His eyes are fixed on mine, and it takes a moment for them to focus.
    After a few deep breathes he says, “What did I ever do to you, huh? What gives you the right to hate me? After all I have gone through, but you. Oh, you get your happily ever after, and you think you have the right to treat me like I wronged you.”
    I’m completely stunned by his statement. He left me. Did he forget? Of course I have the right to be angry. Or at least I did at the time, and my marriage with Dalton has taken a lot of work. It never came easy. The fear he triggered is now twisting into anger.
    “Do not talk to me like I had no right, Striker Knowles! You know nothing about me and my life over the past eleven years. You never once tried to speak with me. So don’t come into my home, in the middle of the night, drunk, and get in my face.”
    “And why would you have the right? I should be the one who is angry.” Striker says, through clenched teeth.
    “WELL, AREN’T YOU?” I scream.
    My hand immediately clamps down over my mouth. We cannot continue this conversation like this. We could wake the kids, and I have no desire for them to know of my history with Striker.
    “Please let me go back to bed. Maybe we can finish this in the morning, after we both calm down, and you sober up.”
    We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. Striker’s chest heavily rises and falls, and