Chapter Six
Thursday arrived too soon, like a deadline I’d tried desperately to ignore but felt ticking beneath everything.
Dread trailed me all week, a cold, silent wavering thing in my stomach.
Cam was around more than usual, but I kept away from him.
I didn’t know how to act around him now, didn’t trust my voice not to splinter if I tried to pretend things hadn’t changed.
If I got too close, I’d probably end up ugly crying and begging him not to go through with this.
I stood at the kitchen counter that morning, absently waiting for the kettle, lost in a tangle of hope and what-ifs.
Maybe he’d come to his senses at the last minute.
Maybe he’d see that I was all he needed.
I heard his heavy footfalls on the stairs and turned as he came in, hair still damp from his shower after his early run.
He smiled. Said, “Morning, baby,” and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
I handed him his coffee, black, just the way he liked it.
“So,” I managed. “Today’s the day.”
He winced, just a flicker, then set his jaw. “Let’s not talk about it. I don’t want to upset you.”
Did he really think I wasn’t already a mess?
I was boiling inside, an ache so awful I could almost taste it.
Was there already someone waiting in the wings, or would he pick her last minute, some chance encounter during the day that would end with him in her bed?
I shook my head, as if that could scatter the awful thoughts clinging to me.
I tried to sound breezy. “What time do you expect to be home?”
“I don’t know. Late.” He didn’t look at me. “Don’t wait up for me, but I’ll come home.”
He drained his coffee and rinsed the mug—a polite, practiced routine. I flinched when he came up behind me all of a sudden, arms warm on my waist, breath on my neck. His lips landed on my bare skin, and I almost moaned right there. It had been so long since he’d touched me like that.
He murmured, low, “You should go out with Rachel tonight. Don’t just sit here thinking about me all night, torturing yourself. Promise?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ve got to get to work, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
I said nothing, but he turned me gently, catching my lips with his. The kiss started soft, then grew greedy, tongues tangling, heat rising. I needed him, needed proof that he still wanted me. That I was still his, even now.
But when he pulled away, I felt the tear slip out before I could stop it. Then more followed, a silent wash I couldn’t control.
“Please,” I choked out, voice wrecked. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this to us. You can still change your mind.”
He stared at me, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Baby…” His voice broke, almost like he hurt too. “I have to. I just…” He dropped a kiss on my forehead and stepped away quick. “I’ll see you later.”
And then, just like that, he was gone.
∞∞∞
I wandered, sidewalk under my feet, not really thinking about where I was going. There was nowhere. I should have called Rachel, but I didn’t want to hear what she might say, even if she wouldn’t say it out loud. I’d made my choice, and now I had to live with it.
What kind of woman let her husband do this? Why wasn’t I stronger? If Rachel was in my shoes, she’d tell him to get lost. She wouldn’t hesitate. Even if she’d never judge me out loud, I still felt it in my bones.
Without really noticing, I ended up outside Timeless Treasures, the used bookstore-slash-antique shop I’d found a while back. I must have walked for ages. But maybe I needed the walk, needed the distraction. Maybe it was a sign.
I slipped inside, the jingle of the bell soft overhead.
“Good to see you again, Olivia,” Mr. Porter called from where he was fussing with a new romance novel display. “Did you finish those books you bought?”
I couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “I did, thanks. They were wonderful.”
He brightened. “Come for more? Because I have just the thing.” He picked up a paperback with a couple in a passionate embrace. “These are flying off the tables!” He held it out to me.
My heart dropped at the cover. I couldn’t stomach reading about love winning out, not when my own was crumbling apart.
I handed it back. “Not today. Maybe fantasy or horror? Something different.”
He sized me up, then waved me over. “Gotcha. If it’s horror you want, I’ve got the newest Stephen King, just came in.”
I took the thick, heavy book from him. “Perfect—it could keep me busy for a year.”
He grinned, but when I brought it to the counter, he stalled. “One second,” he said, disappearing into the back room.
I listened while he banged around, wondering if he needed help, when a familiar voice walked in over the bell.
“Nate!” I blurted before I could stop myself.
He looked up, all surprise. “Um, Livi, right?” His smile stretched so wide it nearly cracked his face.
I nodded. “Small world. You here for a book or a trinket?” I leaned in, like we might be in on some secret.
He laughed. “Neither, technically.”
Just then, Mr. Porter bustled back in, coffee in hand. “Ah, I see you’ve met my grandson.”
I blinked. “Your grandson?”
Nate just grinned sheepishly. “I’m here helping Pops, since his last help bailed for college. Supposed to hire someone new, but he’s picky.”
“I have valuable wares, Nathaniel. I can’t hire just anyone. None of the applicants even read, can you imagine? What sort of bookstore hires someone who doesn’t read?” Mr. Porter looked scandalized.
“He has a point,” I teased.
Nate pointed at the book in my hand. “Well, you clearly read. Why not work here? Take the pressure off me?”
I laughed. “If only. I haven’t been able to get a job anywhere.”
Mr. Porter perked up, like a fox sniffing out a hen. “Are you really looking? Because I need the help, seriously.”
“I am, but…” I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Think about it. Talk to your husband,” he gestured to my wedding band, “if you want. It’s simple work, and since you love books, it might be fun. Plus, you’d get an employee discount.”
My mind spun. After months of nothing, a job just dropped in my lap?
“Don’t you want an interview?” I asked, half-joking.
He chuckled, waving his hand. “No need. I liked you from the moment you walked in. I trust my gut.” He eyed Nate. “But how do you two know each other?”
“We saw a movie together,” I said. “My husband bailed and I had an extra ticket.”
“And she let me tag along, since the show was sold out,” Nate added.
Mr. Porter lit up. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say fate was up to something.” He tapped his head for emphasis, making Nate roll his eyes.
Embarrassed, Nate muttered, “Pops, stop.”
Mr. Porter pushed the cup of coffee toward me. “Just let me know by next week. If you want the job, it’s yours. Take the load off Nate’s shoulders—and my old bones, too.”
I nodded, still dazed. “I’ll think about it. There’s a lot going on, but… maybe I could make it work.” I nudged the coffee back. “I didn’t pay for this.”
“Sure you did,” he winked.
“Thank you. See you soon, maybe?” I gave Nate a look.
He smiled. “I look forward to it.”
I left quickly, clutching the heavy book, heart fluttering for a completely different reason.
∞∞∞
That night, I paced the living room like a ghost. All I could do was walk circles, shoes wearing a groove in the rug.
It was 5:45. Cam wasn’t home. He’d warned me he’d be late—but I’d hoped against hope he’d show up early, call it all off, realize we couldn’t bounce back from this.
Or at least that his plans had fallen through, that the universe had intervened, that he’d ended up coming straight home to me instead.
Minutes bled into hours. With every tick of the clock, my hope shriveled.
I grabbed my phone, set it down, picked it back up—a dance I didn’t even realize I was doing.
I wanted to call him, to beg him not to do this, not to break us.
I could picture him with her: would they go out to dinner first, laugh over drinks, fall into bed?
Would he touch her the way he used to touch me?
Would he forget all about me for a night or just try to?
I couldn’t stand it. I called Rachel. She answered right away.
“What’s up, girlie?”
“I can’t do this, Rach. I can’t just sit here knowing he’s out wrecking our marriage.”
“Slow down, Livi. I hate to say it, but you did agree to it.”
“That’s not fair—I only agreed because I didn’t want to lose him.”
“But you did decide. Two bad choices, but you picked. And this is the follow-through, babe.”
I breathed out, heavy.
“You want to go out? I have plans, but I’ll cancel for you. If you’re in a crisis, I’m here.”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that. I’ll get through tonight.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She hesitated. “Whatever you do, just don’t call him. That would make everything ten times worse, okay?”
I groaned. “Okay. I’ll read, or run, or find something to do to not think about what he’s doing.”
“Don’t let your wild imagination run away with you. It’s probably not even as bad as what you’re picturing.”
“Ha. I’ll try.”
“I’m here, Livi. Just say the word and I’ll come running.”
I smiled at her loyalty. “You’re the best, Rach.”
“Darn right I am.”
“Bye.”
I hung up, put the phone down, picked it up again, checked for a message.
Nothing. And of course there wouldn’t be. He was busy, and I was here, hollowed out and alone. It was so unfair.
I scrambled upstairs, jammed myself into workout clothes. I hated jogging, but it had to be better than sitting here marinating in my own thoughts.
It was nearly dark when I set off, but I kept going, round and round the block, three times, my breath ragged and desperate.
By the time I came back, the street was pitch black.
I let myself in, barely coming to a stop before stripping straight into the shower, dumping my sticky clothes on the floor.
I stood under the cold spray as long as I could stand it, trying to douse the heat out of my skin, then turned it hot and let my body turn pink.
When I stepped out, it was 10:30.
He’d be at a hotel by now. He had to be. There was no escaping it.
I snatched my phone and called him. Five rings, voicemail. Again, this time it cut off at two. Third time, he’d shut his phone off.
I sat on the edge of the bed, towel around me, hair dripping, full of nothing but grief. Was this it? Was this what we’d become? Was I just a switch he could flip off and on whenever he wanted? There only when he needed me?
I barely got dressed. I just lay down and stared at the wall, waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
It must have been after midnight when I heard him come in. I didn’t even lift my head. The lamp was still on, as was the bathroom light.
“Livi?” I heard him come closer, hesitant. “Are you awake?”
I looked at him, flat and blank.
“What are you doing in a towel? I told you not to wait up.” He sounded tired.
I forced myself upright. “I called you.”
His jaw clenched. “I know. You shouldn’t have.”
I couldn’t stop the words tumbling out. “Were you with her when I called? Did you have to pull out to shut your phone off?”
“Don’t, Livi. Don’t do this. You can’t say you’re angry. We talked about this.”
“Did you really do it?” I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Did you actually ruin us?”
“Baby, don’t do this.” His voice broke as he dropped to his knees in front of me. “I won’t lie. Yes, I did. But it wasn’t anything; it was just a way to quiet the ache. You know I love you, only you, always.”
The sobs wracked through me, sharp and sudden. I scrambled off the bed, desperate to keep away from him, but he followed, reaching for me; I shoved him back, hard.
“How could you? How could you do that to us?”
“Livi, stop.” His hands hovered, helpless. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Just calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down!” The words tore from my throat as I pounded my fists against his chest, over and over. “You’ve ruined everything! I can’t do this anymore!”
I folded, knees giving way, collapsing to the floor with my arms clutching tight around my legs. There was nothing left to fight with. I had been wrong. I should have known I couldn’t handle this. I thought it would be easier than losing him, but it was exactly the same. I’d lost him anyway.
It was all in my head: images of him on top of some woman whose face I couldn’t see, her perfect body pressed up against him. His lips on hers. Did she make him feel better than I ever could? Did he like how she looked, the way her skin felt, the taste of her mouth?
“Stop, baby.” He knelt next to me, wrapping both arms around my shaking body, pulling me close. “Just cry, go ahead. Take it out on me. I’m sorry. I never should have hurt you.”
We stayed that way for a long time. I had the strangest sense of letting the person who’d hurt me be my comfort, but there was nothing left in me to stop it.
Eventually, when the tears were gone and even rage felt empty, he lifted me gently off the floor and carried me to the bed, settling in behind me, my back pulled flush against his chest.
I didn’t resist. I was empty. There was nothing else I could do but lie there and wait for sleep to find me, no matter how long it took.
It was a long time before sleep came.