42. I Trusted You
I Trusted You
Cara
I smile softly as I hear the rumble of his tires on the gravel drive. He was so sweet with me last night and today and helped me get a new perspective without even realizing it. I lived thirty years without that box. If it’s gone, it’s gone. I didn’t need it before, and I don’t need it now.
The door opens as I deposit the steaks I just cooked onto the plates and smile, waiting, but when he rounds the corner into the kitchen, his expression stops my heart. He looks furious, cold, and hard and not the man I’ve fallen for, not even the grumpy man I met. He’s another Doug, one I’ve not seen before.
‘Hey, what’s wr…’
‘This yours?’ he snaps, holding out the box, and relief pours out of me in a deep exhale.
‘Oh, my god. You got it back.’ Relief sags my shoulders and i smile, until Doug’s head falls forward, and he curses loudly, confusing me.
‘Doug, what’s the matter?’
‘This is your box?’ He stares back at me, and I nod.
‘Yes, that’s my box.’
‘So, the letters inside, they’re yours.’
‘I don’t understa…’
‘ Are they yours, Cara? ’ he shouts, and I flinch, stepping back.
‘ Yes , yes, they’re mine. Why are you mad?’
My heart is pounding in my chest, and heat rushes up my neck and burns my cheeks as he opens the box, and pulls out a letter, then starts to read.
‘I know what you did. You’re going to pay up, or all of Forest Falls will hear what kind of woman you really are.’
‘What…’ I gasp, not knowing what the hell is going on.
‘Since you care more about that shithole town than your own daughter, I’m guessing I’ll be getting myself a new house pretty soon.’
My chest rises and falls rapidly as he crumples the letter in his hand and throws it to the floor before pulling out another.
‘I did a little research. Turns out it’s pretty easy for you to sign all your investments over to me since I’m your only living blood relative.’
‘What the fuck is this?’ I ask, unable to hear another word.
‘This is your box.’
‘Yes.’
‘Your letters.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘You fucking lying bitch.’ My breath rushes out of me as the box hits the wall, the contents scattering to the floor, and I step back to lean against the counter behind me. ‘I trusted you. I trusted you with my kid. ’
It’s like a knife to the heart to hear that in the past tense when I have no idea why anything has changed.
‘What are you accusing me of lying about, exactly?’ God, my voice is small, and he glares at me with fire in his eyes, then he laughs. And unlike the silky smooth laugh that has rocked through my body on so many occasions, this one is chilling. It’s laced with rage, cold, and hard, and tears wet my eyes as I realize I’m losing him tonight. I already have.
‘You played me for a fool. You pretended to be this sweet, na?ve princess when all the time you’re a cold vindictive bitch.’
‘That’s twice, Douglas Campbell. You don’t get a third.’ My back straightens, and even as tears spill over my cheeks, I swallow hard and look him in the eyes. ‘What. Exactly. Are you accusing me of?’ I punctuate my words, and he takes a deep breath.
‘You blackmailed Roberta into giving you this house. You extorted money out of her. You lied to me, my family, and this whole town. I don’t even know who you are.’
‘Then go.’ My voice is stronger than it should be, given that my heart is crumbling in my chest, and I see the moment my words register. He didn’t expect that. He expected a fight. Well, I’m not giving him one.
‘You’re not even going to deny it?’
‘No, I’m not.’ I push away from the counter. ‘Because you’re not the man I thought you were either, and I don’t have to explain or justify anything to you.’
He huffs out a humorless laugh, and I see his nostrils flare in disbelief.
‘I trusted you , Doug, but if you believe me capable of this, I guess we never knew each other after all. So, you can leave, and I’ll wait here for your sister.’
‘What?’
I take a seat on one of the breakfast bar stools and cross my legs.
‘Well, you’re accusing me of committing a criminal offense, so I’ll expect Breanne. Now, get out of my house.’
He stares at me, dumbfounded for a minute, then turns and storms out, leaving the front door open. I hold it together until I hear the roar of his motorbike and the now familiar sound of him driving away, then my heart breaks, and I can’t breathe for the heart-wrenching sobs that pour out of me.
I didn’t shut the door. When I slid off the stool and crumpled to a heap on the kitchen floor, I couldn’t force myself back up again, so when Bree steps into my vision, she finds me exactly where I fell.
‘Oh, honey.’
I look up at her. My head hurts from the crying and the confusion.
‘Are you here to arrest me?’
Bree drops to sit on the floor in front of me.
‘Why in the world… no, Cara. I’m here to see why my brother just punched a hole in a wall, and I’m guessing your tears have something to do with it. Doug’s a dumbass. I, however, am not.’ She smiles softly, but I can’t bring myself to do the same. ‘Explain it to me, honey. What did he do?’
Two hours later, I step into my kitchen, my wet hair pulled back into a bun, an old baggy band t-shirt on with my comfort jeans, to find all traces of my fight with Doug erased. Bree cleared away the uneaten steak dinners and cooking pots and picked up all the contents of the now broken box from the floor. It looks like it never happened, but my tension headache tells me otherwise.
I told her everything. I cried until I made myself sick.
‘You okay, sweetie?’ she says softly, stepping into my space to hug me. ‘He’s an idiot, but he’ll come around.’
I push out of her embrace and shake my head.
‘I don’t want him to come around, Bree. He’s not who I thought he was.’ I see the conflict in her eyes as she nods, and I take a deep breath, then blow it out. ‘I didn’t do it, Bree. I didn’t do what he said.’ The lump rises again, and more tears threaten to fall.
‘I know, Cara. I know you didn’t.’ She holds out a hand for mine, and I take it. ‘Now come on, you need to eat a little something.’
Eating is the last thing I want to do, but I let her guide me to sit at the dining table and pick at the sandwich she placed in front of me. She doesn’t push me to talk. She just stays with me.
My phone vibrates on the table: Dad . I can’t face talking to him right now. He’ll be worried because I asked him to call ASAP, and now, I’m not answering, but I don’t have it in me.
‘I need to get back, Cara,’ Bree says softly after a while. ‘Are you going to be okay?’
I walk with her to the door and nod, yes, as is customary to do. Does anyone ever say no to that question? I see the concern in her eyes. She knows as well as I do that I am not going to be okay, but I’ll just have to get through it.
Watching Bree leave as I stand on the porch and inhale the warm night air, I cry, not the heartbroken sobs and gasps of earlier, but a soft, sad cry of a woman exhausted and not understanding what went so wrong.
I wanted to tell him I was in love with him tonight. I wanted to thank him for taking care of me all the time and making me feel so precious, and then he walked in and crushed me.
Heading back inside, I lock the door and head up to bed. I need to sleep, and then tomorrow, I’ll figure out what’s next.