Chapter 19 #3
“It means I have to talk to my wife.” Then, more so to the universe, I let slip, “She didn’t deserve this.” The tears that are being held back slip free.
Jess pulls away from me, realizing the tears aren’t for her. They’re for Em.
“Oh god, you really love her,” she says again, her realization sounding fucking aghast.
“Yeah, Jess. We’ve talked about starting a family together. She’s important to me…in a way you could never understand.” I can’t look her in the eyes as I speak, but it doesn’t matter. She takes a step back, and then she takes another.
“I didn’t know.” I only told you ten minutes ago! I close my eyes, the self-loathing coming to a boil.
The anger and the hurt lashes out. “Damnit, Jess! When you’re around, I can’t fucking think straight.
I see you and-and it’s all I can think about.
Is you. You. But it’s not just me anymore.
And this — this is going to kill her!” My stomach rolls.
Jess winces, either from the words or my raised voice.
“Okay.” Her stupid one-word answers were the bane of my existence. I want to shake her. I want to shake myself.
“Okay, Alex.” She finds some resolve. “I hope you’re happy together.” Is she fucking clueless? Fat chance of that now.
“Yeah, I bet you do,” I say under my breath. “Are you going to tell Damian?” She shakes her head no. That would be her burden to carry. Fuck both of them. But fuck her especially.
“I have to go.” I take a step back. And I see the heartbreak in her eyes. It wasn’t going to be our time. It never would.
I don’t wait for her to leave first; I just turn around, walking back to our side of the path, calling out for Delta who comes running.
I love Emma. I really do. She’s the best person I know.
I just also love Jess…even against my own will.
I stare at the text messages. Have I told you you’re the best husband lately? Because you are. I’m not. I’m the fucking worst. I lean back against the couch, letting my head fall back as I debate: What to say? How to say it? Do I wait till she’s home?
A
How was it?
She should be back at the hotel by now. Three little dots appear before disappearing, only to return a minute later.
Em
Not what I was expecting.
My stomach turns.
In a good way or a bad way?
It wasn’t good. It’s been a horrible day. Can you talk on the phone? Or are you at your sister’s?
I panic. Nausea and disgust with myself are the only prevailing feelings I have. I can’t do it; she’ll be able to hear it in my voice.
In the middle of something, but if you really need, I can pause.
No, that’s okay. Tell everyone I said hi.
I love you, Emma.
I love you, too.
I’m going to hell. Straight to hell.
I don’t end up flying to Las Vegas to meet my wife. I don’t drive there either. The Friday after Thanksgiving, I pick her up from the airport.
She walks out of the secure area and into baggage claim, a soft smile planted on her face as she looks around for me. She looks tired but happy to be here.
But her smile falls when her eyes land on me. I hadn’t slept in two days. I hardly ate. I wanted to punish myself. And now, all I want is to fall at her feet and beg.
Instead, the second she’s close enough, I wrap her up in my arms wordlessly. Would this be the last time I get to hold her? Tears leak out as we embrace, holding her tight against me, one palm on the back of her head, the other on her hip.
“What happened?” she asks hoarsely.
I nod, not able to form the words.
Her hands tremble as she adjusts her backpack, then she picks up the handle of her carry-on she’d dropped seconds earlier. I offer to carry her bags for her, but she declines.
The gut feeling howls.
We walk to the car, both of us looking like death. Probably feeling like it, too.
As soon as we’re both buckled in, she turns to me.
“Tell me, whatever it is. Please?” Tears are already forming in her eyes like she knows it’s going to hurt. She’s bracing for it.
“I…saw Jess.” She inhales sharply, and I think I can’t do it. But I can’t not do it. I’m staring at the steering wheel when I finally say, “I slept with Jess.” I don’t want to look at her, but I force myself to as punishment. She sits back in her seat, not looking at me, absorbing the information.
Fuck, I want to take it back. I would rather live in a house of cards based on lies if it would keep her safe. If it would keep her from ever having to feel this feeling,
“Okay,” she eventually whispers out. I want to ask so many questions. I want to tell her everything, but I don’t know that she wants to hear any of it. I know I wouldn’t. I know I hadn’t when I was the one sitting where Emma is now.
The back of my throat stings, and I clench my jaw together. My palms are sweating as they curl into balls.
“Can you drive me home, please?” she asks, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. I nod and decide to wait till she’s ready to talk. I drive toward the airport exit, but she stops me.
“Go left here. I want you to take me to my condo. Please.” No. My heart cracks.
“Please, baby…” I’ll beg. I would beg her to come home. She shakes her head, refusing to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry, Em-” she stops me, cutting me off.
“Where? Did she come to the house? Was she there at Thanksgiving?” She stares out the windshield, unable to face me.
“At the cove,” I say, knowing the impact, hating every fucking second as I watch her shatter at that admission. That’s our place. It was. It had meaning to us, and I defiled it.
“Did it mean anything?” she asks, her voice so low, it’s almost a whisper. I swallow against the truth. When my answer isn’t immediate, she doesn’t need me to answer at all. “Right then,” she says. “I need to get home.”
“Please,” she says again when I still haven’t started driving. “Please,” this time, the word is choked by a sob.
I roll my head back against the headrest, loathing every second of this. Hating what I’ve done. Hating myself. But I put the truck in drive and head toward her house.
She cries silently the whole time. I look over every couple of minutes, just to watch what we were circle the drain. Jess, my unavoidable vortex, sucked all that was good about me out of existence. All that’s left in the wake is me trying to love Emma while still loving someone else.
The closer we get to her house, the faster our relationship dissipates. She starts toying with her ring the closer we get to her building. She twists it to the left, then back to the right. I’m expecting her to take it off any second.
“He said you’d burn me,” her voice is a taut whisper, straining under the pain, like she’s not saying it to me, just out loud. “I didn’t know it would feel like I’d been scorched by the sun.” She would never forgive me, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying.
“Emma…I love you. I’m so sorry. I’m not done. I don’t want to give this up.” I don’t. We were good, her and I. Maybe if I hadn’t been stuck in a fog of Jess, I could have seen that clearly while it was happening. Guess it’s true; you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.
“Give up what?” She finally snaps, finally looking at me. I hate what I see reflecting back because she’s the one person who’s always seen me, and now, she really has. And she hates it. And it’s warranted.
“Alex?” Her brash tone grabs my attention again, “Give up what? The cycle of pain? The holding back? The never being fully honest with anyone, including yourself?”
She lowers her voice before continuing, “I think it’s clear that giving me up was easy because you already did.
It’s everything else you want to hold onto.
” My eyes close at the searing truth. The second I gave in to Jess, I’d given up Emma.
I shouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have if I’d thought the consequences through.
Would I? Or would I always be this monster?
As my eyes reopen, I watch Emma tense, her hand bracing the truck door as she shouts, “Alex!” Her terrified voice hits me at the same time a car sideswipes the passenger side of the truck, pushing us into oncoming traffic.
When the second car hits us, all I can think is: Emma.
But then there’s another impact, and it all fades to black.