~Ian~

randy /●adj. sexually aroused or excited

Twenty-two years of loving somebody and twenty-one years of marriage. It is not easy as it seems. Once you have to let go of something that had grown to be a part of you, you feel incomplete forever.

When Noah and I were young and living together, I always remained randy around the house; fucking him against every surface possible. Whenever the situation left him and I in a place where nobody was watching, we fucked or atleast dry humped. We had the fun of our lives in those times.

But now, living in this house with a son who had grown a bit bitchy towards me and a son I was rarely going to see again, I felt like I had made a mistake. Even though I knew I hadn't.

~Noah~

I hugged the pillow to my chest as I lay on my side. It was one o'clock in the night and I was having trouble sleeping.

Well, I had been having trouble sleeping since the past two weeks.

Why did he leave me?

He was the one who taught me to believe in myself--that I was lovable enough for someone to marry me, have kids with me, stay twenty two whole years with me. And then he left me, pushing me back to where I began.

Since the past few months, he had begun acting like he couldn't tolerate even the minutest mistakes I made. If I forgot to call him during lunch time in office--he got mad, if I came a bit late from the school someday--he got mad, if I forgot to inform him I was going out with my friends--he got mad.

Those were the things he never made an issue about earlier, but now he just snapped at me on everything. Why did he get so fed up on me suddenly? Why after all these years?

There had to be something that triggered him. And it was eating up my mind thinking about what it could possibly be. I had asked him so many times but he never told me what had made him that way. "You." was all he ever replied. What did I ever do?

I had been sleepless since these two weeks, and I had started to look different now. I had dark circles and my colleagues kept telling me I had started becoming skinnier. In just two weeks.

I had to talk to him. I wanted answers that I hadn't seeked earlier due to being irritated and fed up with his anger. I wanted to know even the tiniest of the thinks that built up to something as big as divorce.

So I called him.

"Hey," his sleepy voice came from the other end. I smiled. I was hearing it for the first time in the past two weeks.

"Hey," I whispered back. We both went silent for some time, I was figuring out what I wanted to say.

"Can we talk?" I finally asked, but there came no reply. Had he fallen asleep again? A smile tugged at my lips.

"Ian?" I called, a little louder this time and he woke up with 'huh?'

"Can we talk?" I asked again. He grunted a few times, a cue that he was sitting up on the bed.

"What happened?" He asked back.

"That's what I want to ask you." I replied.

"What do you mean?" He asked. He knew exactly what I meant.

"Why did you lea--"

"We weren't really going well together, Noah. You know that. All the arguments the past few mon--"

"What happened, Ian? What caused those arguments? Why did you start hating me after all these years?" I had begun crying, silencing him for a while.

"Noah, please. Let's not have this talk again. I can't d--"

"No." I spoke firmly in my hoarse voice. "We are going to have this talk again. I need to know everything."

"Everything about what?"

"Everything abou--forget it. I'm coming over. I can't live like this anymore." I decided, getting up and starting to walk to the now half-empty closet.

"What do you mean you're coming over? It's a two hour drive! It's one A.M!" He protested.

"I don't give a fuck." I grunted, pulling out a pair of pants and disconnecting the call.

I jogged out of the house and drove away to where my husband and son were staying.

~

If the adrenaline hadn't kept me awake, I sure would've dozed off in the middle of the tedious drive. And driving in the middle of the night at the town outskirts was also very creepy.

But I was finally here, standing in front of the door of my destination.

"I'm here," I said to Ian over the phone and then heard steps behind the door before it was opened.

There stood the love of my life, looking sexy as ever with his T-shirt clinging to his still-present muscles and his brown hair messed up on his head.

"Hey," I greeted, trying not to blush. I was forty-five and still acted like a randy little twink around him.

"Come in," he said, avoiding my eyes and walked back inside, making me follow him.

We went into his room. Messy.

"Do you even bother cleaning this up once a while?" I said, picking up a pair of shorts by the door and throwing it to the side. He shrugged and sat down on the bed, me following.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" He asked with his jaw ticking, looking straight ahead, instead of at me.

I put my hand to his cheek and turned his head towards me. The pain in his eyes was hurting.

"What did I do?" Damn those tears.

His eyes began watering too as he looked away again.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to bring it to my lips, Noah," he whispered.

But what was so wrong in whatever I did that he was so ashamed to even say it? Or was it something else? God forbid he had some disease and was only doing this so that I grew apart from him and not hurt much when he died.

Ugh what am I even thinking! I read books too much.

"Baby, please tell me." I cried further and he shook his head, wiping his tears infuriatingly. But in his anger, there was so much defeat. And I didn't like that expression on him.

"Ian, I'm begging you. I need to know! What did I even do so bad that you--"

"I saw you sleeping with him, Noah!" He growled suddenly.

What the fuck!

My eyes widened and I sat there for a few moments and began shaking.

"What did you just say?" I trembled before silent tears gushed down my cheeks. I slept with someone? Was he out of his mind?

He smiled that sarcastic smile at me.

"A shock, isn't it? You thought it would be your dirty little secret? Ha! I saw you at your Christmas' 'after party' with Lionel. Sucking his--"

I didn't let him finish. I slapped him.

"How dare you?" I growled, practically going red with fury. How dare he put such a filthy blame on me. Me? Lionel? Christmas party? When the fuck did that happen?

Lionel was my colleague and a whole of fifteen years younger to me. We were friends and I was fond of him but this was disgusting.

Three of my fingers had gotten imprinted red on his left cheek and now he was looking at me with maddening shock.

"Did you dream of it or something? And suddenly woke up and thought that it all had actually happened? How did you even make up this story? Like how, Ian?" I shouted at him.

He gulped.

"I-I...I had called you saying I would come over to pick you up, remember? And when I came to Amber's house, she said you were in a room down the hall and when I went in there, I-I s-saw you b-blowing him!" He justified, albeit in a weak voice.

I shook my head and punched his shoulder, making him wince.

"You were drunk as fuck on that night, remember? Oh, I'm sorry. How would you remember? Because you were drunk as fuck!" I shouted again. "Every brown haired guy isn't me, you jerk! That must've been somebody else."

I didn't have any proof of my statement but I saw it in his eye that he believed me. He knew I never lied to him. But I was so mad at him for even thinking I did something like that! I loved him so much and yet he thought I did all that and didn't even try to confront me about it.

"I'm so sorry," he began crying again, dropping his face in his hands as his shoulders shook.

"I hate you," I murmured and got up to leave, but his arms wrapped around me quickly from behind, holding me in place. I knew I was mad, but I still shivered. I was just hugged by my very muscular husband after I don't know how long!

"Get off of me," I said, trying to act tough. It was cute the way he was clinging to me.

God, Noah! Think about all the filthy blames he put on you! My rationality screamed.

"You didn't even try to talk to me about it, once." I said.

"I was scared," he whispered as he sobbed, "I didn't want you to be the one who broke it off first."

"Such an egoistic bastard," I groaned and tried to escape from his grasp. Like that has ever been successful before.

"Please, I'm so sorry." He cried on my shoulder, his tears trickling down under my shirt.

"I hate you," I murmured again--not really meaning it-- before falling back into his chest.

"You have every right to," he sobbed before tightening his arms around me.

A/N: I LOVE MY NOAH.

*Makes a face* Ian is such a bitch.