Chapter 7

My best friend and lover, Robert was a part of my life for eighteen years before he passed away. He often played piano to pass time before bed. It was something that turned me on about him – his affinity to art despite not being a professional. Everyday I fell deeper in love with him. His musical skill had a lot to do with that process.

I sat down on the piano bench next to him, holding nine month old Addison in my arms. He smiled at me, his green eyes lit with some collected, calm passion I only saw in people who were in love.

He continued playing my favorite song, his unmistakable Stevie Wonder cover of "You Are The Sunshine of My Life". I loved the way he slowed it down during the chorus and made it emotional on the odd occasions he sang the lyrics. I hummed them as he played.

Once he finished the song, I asked him to come to bed. He listened, closing the grand piano passed down from his great grandfather.

I placed Addison back in her crib next to our bed after checking on Colby who slept soundly in his room down the hall. Crawling into bed next to Robert, I nuzzled up to him and kissed his shirtless back. My chest felt warmth I could only describe to be a security you get from your lover. It shot all the way down to my pelvis.

I let him sleep instead of demanding sex at a time he needed to rest for work the next day. I may have been quite narcissistic but I still had the mental capacity to put my needs aside. So I did.

Some nights he snored. This was one of them. But I still needed his warmth and touch. I never let it bother me.

This was how I knew my love for him was paramount. That loving anyone else in this life was a mistake. He made me feel whole without even doing anything aside from sleeping next to me every night. That was rare and God forbid I ever had to see the day things changed for the worst.

When they did, I woke up crying every night until I participated in some impetuous escapade with a man who played with my head. I ended up pregnant with his baby only to never inform him as he broke up with me before I had my chance. By the time I could speak I figured I wouldn't allow it to come between us at all. And I achieved that by telling no one of my pregnancy.

It was all so insipid. I should have known better and taken my medication, which I presently do in pure acknowledgement of my volatile mood swings. I vowed to never made another impulsive choice again that would lead to huge mistakes such as pregnancy. My shrink agrees that people who cannot make clear decisions benefit from benzodiazepines, at least.

I often drink on my Xanax prescription. I'm a skilled driver so I have taken to breaking the law every night driving under the influence. I have yet to get in a collision. Which is fucking stupid, considering my husband died in a drunk driving accident.