Blurry Vision

"Will he? Some days it feels like I gave birth to some sociopath." She grimaced slightly. "Is that a fucked up thing for a mom to say? I don't really think he's a sociopath. It's just... damn. The attitude on that kid is out of control lately."

He picked up her wrist and kissed it. "I think it's that friend he has, Joel, or whatever?"

"Well, whatever it is, he needs to grow out of it by tomorrow morning."

He opened his mouth to answer just as Tara came home. "Mom? You won't believe it!" She rushed into the dining room and smiled briefly when she saw her father. "Oh, hi, Dad. You won't believe it, either. Coach Fisher randomly quit today. No reason. No-one knows why. It's the weirdest freaking thing, like, ever."

Scarlett frowned and looked at Vincent. "Quit? That doesn't sound like her. There's no explanation?"

Tara plopped beside her father. "Nope. So, we got a new Coach. Coach Price."

Cold pricks of dismay crept down his spine. "What?"

"Coach Price. She's pretty. I love her already." Tara scanned Scarlett's textbook with interest. "Mom, is that seriously what a heart looks like inside? Gross."

"Does she have black hair? Green eyes?"

Tara looked at him strangely. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"What's the matter, Vin?" Scarlett asked. "You know her?"

"Nothing. I think I interviewed her at work today."

Scarlett looked confused. "And she moonlights as a swim coach?"

"I have no idea. Does she know your last name, Tara?"

"Yeah. She came over to a few of us at the end and asked us stuff. She is really nice."

"I'm glad you like her, but I hope Coach Fisher is okay." Scarlett brushed his hair back from his face. "You okay? You're so pale."

He strained to put a smile on his face. "I'm fine, just tired. I think I'm going to lie down."

In his room, Vincent undressed numbly and crept beneath the covers. Jasmine wasn't going to stop until she ended his life. He was certain of it. Now she was going for his kids. He tried to get angry, but he couldn't; the raw fear bubbling inside of him was insistent and overpowering. He had been an idiot to think that his mistake was behind him.

Secrets never vanish. They just wait to come to the surface again. There would be no burying this one again unless he magically found some way to reason with Jasmine.

Scarlett joined him an hour later. He listened to her undress and felt her slip into bed. She hugged him from behind. She was silent for a few minutes, her cheek resting against his arm. Then she kissed his skin and whispered, "What's the matter, baby?"

"Nothing. I promise."

"Lies." Sat up and climbed over him. He turned at the same time so that now she was sitting on his torso. "I know you inside and out, Vincent. I know when something is eating at you. What is it now? You think George is changing his mind or something?"

He ran his hands up her sides and let his thumbs lightly graze her nipples, which were hard thanks to the cold room. He could faintly make them out through the white t-shirt she wore. A small smile flashed across her face and then she became serious again. She leaned over so that they were nose to nose.

"You can't distract me with sex."

His eyebrows rose and he shook his head. "I have proof that I have." He pulled Scarlett's strawberry blonde hair out of its ponytail and inhaled as it fell down around his face.

"I know something is up with you. You can tell me."

She looked so earnest in that moment, so young and trusting and lovely that he almost felt the words tumbling from his lips. Then she kissed him and he let the words drown deep inside his body, trying to lose himself in the sensations her mouth gave him.

He rolled her over and sank into her softness without hesitation or foreplay. It was necessary to be inside her at that moment. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something else, but he quickly pulled down her pajamas and his boxers. Her eyes closed as he moved inside her and her cheeks blushed with pleasure.

It wasn't sweet or tender sex, in spite of how she made him feel. He needed his own distraction, he needed to think of anything and anyone besides Jasmine Price. Yet as he thrust inside his wife, Jasmine's face came to mind. He thought about her bright green eyes and the sassy but self-conscious slant of her lips.

Vincent slowed down and pushed her out of his mind. He would find her tomorrow and threaten her Goddamn life if he had to. He worked too hard for this life to let Jasmine carry out whatever sick plot she had in mind.

"Vincent," Scarlett panted. "Come back to me. Where has your head gone?"

"I'm here," he promised. He kissed her deeply and moved inside her until both of them gasped with pleasure.

Scarlett fell asleep a few minutes later, her legs tangled with his and an arm thrown over his chest. It used to drive him crazy when they first got together, but now he liked feeling her gentle weight pressed against him.

He couldn't sleep. Jasmine's face when he chased her away the last time came to mind. He thought for sure they would never see each other again. He would find her first thing tomorrow morning and demand to know what the fuck she wanted. He stroked Scarlett's hair and swore he would find a way to get rid of Jasmine for good.

*****

PAST

Her apartment building was in a shady part of town with crappy lighting and loud parties. He waited for her in the parking lot, resentment and anxiety building inside of him until his stomach hurt. She was supposed to be home at least an hour earlier. She assured him he wouldn't have to wait long. She lied. He was sure she was doing this on purpose. Every second made his uneasiness jolt higher and higher.

He flicked on the windshield wipers and watched the rain run down in thick streams down the glass. This wasn't going to be easy. Jasmine had it in her head since their one night stand that they were meant to be. Jasmine also didn't know he was married. He didn't even know her last name! She was a massive error in judgment, one he would do anything to take back.

He couldn't even remember what he and Scarlett were fighting about that day. It was something trivial and fleeting. He had no intentions of leaving Scarlett, even if he knew without a doubt that he didn't deserve her. He loved her.

Just as the sky darkened into evening, Jasmine's car pulled into the lot. She jumped out of her car and trotted over to Vincent's.

The passenger door opened and she popped her head inside. "Come upstairs!"

"No, thanks. Can we talk in here?"

Her expression flattened and she slipped inside. Her long hair was soaked. Even her eyelashes were spiked with water.

Vincent waited for a few minutes and stared at his hands on the steering wheel. For one brief, impulsive moment, he wanted to cast her out on the rain and speed away.

Jasmine reached over and grabbed onto his right hand, lacing her fingers with his. He allowed it mostly because of his surprise. "You didn't answer any of my texts today."

"I work, Jasmine."

A small giggle bubbled from her and she moved his hand to her mouth. His eyes helplessly took in the erotic sight of her plush crimson lips pressing against his skin. The corners of her mouth shook a little as she fought off a smile. She knew she was getting to him.

He took a deep breath. "Jasmine, I'm so sorry but I can't see you again."

Those beautiful lips pursed thoughtfully. He stared into her green eyes, so natural and clear. Her eyes made him think of the earth, of lush leaves wet with soft rain.

"You told me you wanted me. The other night. You said..."

"I was drunk!" he cut in, more than a little frustrated. "I was drunk and I would have said anything. Anything." He rubbed his forehead. "Listen, you're a beautiful woman. I'm sorry for complicating your life, truly I am, but whatever I said that night I didn't mean. I can't even remember half of it. I'm married."

Her mouth fell open and he had to look away. As exasperated as he was, he didn't want to hurt her. It certainly didn't feel good.

The rain pounded against his car, making the inside even quieter. It was eerie. He waited for her to scream, to hit him, to make demands, to threaten him. She did none of that. She just sat there, watching him as if she expected he to say something else, to take back his words.

He didn't know what was next. His hands fiddled with the air just for something to do. He could smell her in the damp heat. He swallowed and peeked at her. Big tears fell down her cheeks. She quietly sobbed and wiped at her eyes.

"I'm going to tell your wife," Jasmine swore suddenly.

His head jerked up. "Excuse me?"

Visions of her taking away his wife, his pride, his reputation from him came to him. Hot, blind fury flooded him. He watched her mouth moving as she threatened him.

"I arranged this meeting. I told you I had something to tell you and you didn't even try to listen! You just hijacked this whole thing. I wanted to tell you..."

"You were just a random girl I fucked! What part of this don't you understand? I love my wife. I don't want to leave her. I don't want you. I've told you this a thousand different ways! Tell me what I need to do to express this to you in a way you can understand."

She paused for a minute. Hatred lit up those beautiful eyes. "I'm going to tell your wife. She should know what a nasty person she's married t..."

"Nasty?" A cruel, humorless laughter erupted from him. "Nasty? Should I remind you how nasty you were for me?"

"You're repulsive." She looked sick. "I am going to tell her."

His hand reflexively went to the back of her skull. He grasped onto a nice handful of her hair and pulled. "If you ever, ever, ever contact my wife, I will do things to you that you can't even imagine."

"You're a coward and a hypocrite. Do you know that?" Jasmine tried to pull away from him but he twisted her hair in his hand. Pain spread across her face and one of her hands reflexively covered his. "Get your dirty fucking hands off of me!"

"Do not contact me again. Ever. Do not contact my wife. Ever. Don't even think about her. What I did with you was a disgusting mistake. I'd cut my dick off before I let it happen again. Do you understand me?"

Vincent let go of her hair after a sharp tug. She blindly felt for the door handle and thrust her body out of the car. "Go fuck yourself!" she screamed before slamming the door shut.

He watched her run towards her apartment building with a sense of satisfaction and the vain and ignorant security that he would never see her again.

*****

PRESENT

George sat on his desk and scrutinized Vincent closely as he entered his office the next morning.

"Brooke Price says she's not interested in the job," he said in way of a greeting.

Vincent shut the door and tried on a surprised expression. "Really? Wow. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Cut the shit, Vin." He smirked briefly and then shook his head. "Do you know her?"

He didn't know what to do. George had never let him down. He was always understanding and kind to him, but he did like the idea of wholesome families, of men who were men. Vincent didn't know how he would react to hearing that he had stepped out on Scarlett.

"I see you are doing a lot of thinking. Just tell me. It might come out anyway and I'll think you more of a man if you confess it yourself."

A long sigh escaped him. "We had an affair. Ages ago." It felt good to say it.

George nodded. "I thought so. What happened when you walked her out?"

"I told her never to come back."

"Well, that's disappointing. I thought she would be a good addition to the company, but I obviously understand your reaction." George came over to him and put a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "You know I value honesty above all things. Thank you for telling me."

He walked around his desk and flipped through some papers. "I'll call you when I need you again."

He was dismissing him. He still couldn't decide if he genuinely understood what happened or if he was saying it to placate him.

He walked to his office slowly. He passed Otto on the way and grabbed his arm reflexively, dragging him to his office to tell him about what happened.

He listened with an open mouth and wide eyes. When Vincent finished, Otto shook his head and uttered a low curse. "And you told George all this?"

"Do you think that was a mistake?"

Otto licked his lips nervously and shrugged. "Who knows? George doesn't think like an average person."

"I think I should go back in there and give him a full confession."

"Dude," Otto laughed, shaking his head, "worst fucking thing you could do. Leave it alone right now."

"I can't. I think she's sending a message in a big way." He told Otto about how Ms. Price was now Tara's swim coach.

Otto stood and located a bottle of scotch Vincent kept for special occasions. He poured them both generous glasses and downed his in one movement.

"Vinny, listen to me. Figure out a way to tell Scarlett and own up to what you did. That's the right thing to do."

"Do you think she's serious? I think she might just be playing around."

"Well, then the question is: do you want to play around with that? It's been over a decade and she's showing up at your workplace. Now you're telling me she's messing with your kid. I think you should take this very seriously."

Vincent ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know. I just don't know."

"Tell Scarlett."

He lowered himself into the chair next to him and shook his head. "I can't. She will never understand."

"Vin," Otto whispered, "she is going to find out one way or another. That's the only way I see this going down. You need to man up."

"It was one stupid night. One stupid, meaningless night."

"Meaningless for you," Otto pointed out.

He stood and walked out of the office, leaving Vincent with his tormented thoughts.

*****

Vincent offered to take Tara to swim lessons that night. He wanted to see Coach Price.

Tara babbled on and on about a girl she was fighting with at school when they entered the pool. A bunch of kids were lined up on the side, joking around with one another. The sounds inside were strange and echoing, and just when Vincent thought Coach Price wasn't showing up, he heard the giggle he remembered after all of these years.

She stood in the corner with one of the male lifeguards. She appeared to be flirting with him, giggling and placing her hand on his forearm every five seconds. Her laughter traveled throughout the pool, returning to his ears in haunting echoes. Her dark hair was up in a loose bun with sexy strands falling loosely around her face. She wore a red one-piece bathing suit that clung to her body in such a mouth-watering way that Vincent nearly forgot himself.

"Ew, Dad."

Vincent tore himself away from ogling Jasmine and looked down at his daughter. "What?"

"You're creeping on her."

"Am not," he said, guiding her towards the locker room with a firm hand against her back. "I'll pick you back up later. Have fun."

Once his daughter disappeared, Vincent stalked over to Jasmine. She saw his approach and watched him with a cool expression. The male lifeguard had vanished, thank God, so Vincent would have an opportunity to be frank with her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he demanded.

Jasmine licked her lips and gave him a tiny smirk. "Excuse me? Do I know you?"

"Cute. Very cute, Jasmine."

"My name isn't Jasmine. I'm Sunny. And you are?"

"I am warning you. I don't find this amusing in the least bit." Vincent looked over his shoulder and saw everyone was distracted. Then he grabbed onto Jasmine's arm and delighted in the brief flash of fire that shone in her eyes. "I'm tired of this."

"I don't know you. Get your hands off of me," she warned through gritted teeth.

He noticed the male lifeguard watching them, so he let go of her. "This isn't over," he swore. She only smiled.

Vincent spun around and marched out to the car. He sat panting, only noticing the frightened pounding of his heart in the silence of the car. This was a complete nightmare, and he feared he would never wake up. He was going to have to go to the police if this continued, but if he did that, everything would fall apart. He would have to tell Scarlett. His marriage would be over. His kids could be taken away from him. George was being cool about the situation right now, but if Vincent's personal life started blowing up, who knows what might happen?

He resolved to wait. Eventually Jasmine would get to what she wanted from him; he just had to be patient.

*****

Scarlett went to pick Tara up when Vincent claimed he had a headache. He heard the car doors slam and the two of them wishing each other goodnight.

Scarlett moved quietly through their bedroom, assuming he was asleep. She obviously didn't want to disturb him, and that fact burned his heart and made him feel like the lowest bastard ever. He felt her smooth body slide in beside him and he found himself reaching for her.

"Vincent?"

"Mm?"

"Oh. I thought you were asleep."

He kissed her naked shoulder and tried not to grab her roughly. He wanted her for many reasons, but the biggest motivation for touching her in that moment was comfort.

"Vin? What's wrong, baby?"

He flattened his hand against her stomach and hooked a leg over hers. "I had a bad dream."

Scarlett was silent for a minute. Then her arms came around him and she made a shushing noise against his forehead. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"What can I do for you?"

Vincent exhaled slowly. "Stay like this." He nuzzled his head against her chest and kissed the peak of her breast. She jumped a little at the sensation. "I can't lose you, Scar."

She hesitated for a minute, obviously confused. "You won't. Where is this coming from?"

"I love you. Promise me you'll never leave me."

"Vinny, I love you, too. I'll never leave you."

Tears came to his eyes, but they weren't of relief. It was a small, dark, ugly thing for him to make her promise something like that, knowing that if things were revealed she would have every right to spit in his face and desert him, but he took the vow and treasured it, stroked the memory of her saying it, believed her words.

He moved on top of her and didn't stop kissing her everywhere until she shook beneath him, and when he found his own bliss that night, it was inside of her, wrapped up in the physical comfort of her body and the promise she would never leave him.

*****

PAST

Vin was incredibly hungover by the time he met back up with Otto the next day. The night before had been excessive, and Vincent had made more than his share of mistakes. He woke up that morning wrapped up with some girl whose name he could hardly remember. Jennifer? Jessica?

He didn't want to think about that, so he focused instead on his hangover and how to alleviate it.

Vincent walked to the diner around the corner from the hotel and spotted Otto in the corner. The bastard looked completely fresh and energetic. Otto spotted him and waved him over with a big grin.

"Hey, party animal. How's the head?"

"Shut the fuck up," Vincent said, sliding into the booth. "I feel like I'm dying."

Otto took a big bite of bacon and laughed. "I told you that you weren't hydrating enough. You were too busy staring at that girl's cleavage."

"No, you were too busy following her friend around."

The waitress came over and took Vincent's order. When she was gone, Otto shook his head.

"Her friend is awesome. Her name is Lena and she is a..."

"Dude, I don't fucking care, okay? She's a slut, just like her friend."

Otto's eyebrows went up. "What are you talking about? They're both nice women."

Vincent laughed without amusement and sat back to study his friend. "Oh? Did yours fuck you, too?"