Chapter 24
24
Bailey
B ailey could tell her face was crimson, even without looking in the mirror. The hot flashes that rippled beneath her skin felt like they might make her burst into flames at any second. She’d been prepared to sit down with Carter and have a calm discussion about what she’d witnessed in town the other day.
It had only taken one night of tossing and turning for her to realize that she needed him just as much as she’d thought she did—before all of her self-doubt had crept in. Not only that, but he deserved to be the one to explain what she’d seen rather than having accusations flung in his direction.
The second he’d come home with that blasted tree, those decorations, and several presents—well, she’d lost that self-control.
Bailey flung her hands down at her sides, her breaths coming out in sharp puffs. This was just like being with Jack, and that notion made her so upset she couldn’t stay calm.
Carter stood before her, his expression shifting between several different emotions. There was pain, disappointment, guilt, fury, but the one that hurt the most was defiance. He’d already made his decision on how this conversation would go, and she despised him for it.
“Are you going to tell me where all that money came from, then?” She jerked her chin toward the tree. “Because even though I know you were technically better off financially than I was, don’t think for a second that I didn’t notice how frugal you were, too.” It had been one of the things that had added to his appeal. She’d thought for once in her life that she’d found someone willing to see the world through a clear lens.
Bailey’s hands trembled, and she shoved them into the pockets of her sweatpants to keep him from noticing. She watched him expectantly, waiting for him to tell her what she’d already assumed to be true.
He shrugged. “I’ve been home for a couple months. I’ve been working my tail off at the ranch, and my brother pays me generously.”
She scoffed. “Even I know that’s not one hundred percent the truth. You once told me it took you almost a full month to get back to work because you didn’t feel worthy to be brought back into the fold.”
He grimaced, his eyes dipping. It was the first sign of weakness he’d shown her since she’d confronted him. And still, he didn’t speak.
“I don’t know what your hourly wage is, but I do know that you don’t have regular working hours. You didn’t have to pay for food or a place to stay, so your brother could keep your wages low. The only expenses you needed to worry about were gas, insurance, and personal items.”
Carter lifted his fiery eyes to meet hers. “Well, you’re just a little detective, aren’t you?”
His words sliced through her, not because of what he’d said but how he’d said it. The disdain in his tone mirrored how she’d felt when she’d caught him with that guy in town.
Her sharp breaths weren’t giving her enough oxygen. She could feel herself losing control, and the dizziness that swirled in her head was overwhelming. Bailey shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to regain some semblance of clarity.
What had she learned about addicts from Jack? Typically, they made excuses, blaming others for their misconduct. Unless they were determined to change, no amount of help from family or friends was going to affect them. Falling off the wagon was to be expected.
More importantly, she couldn’t walk on eggshells around him. She had to confront her concerns head-on.
Bailey set a sad, weary focus on him, and her voice trembled. “I saw you the other day, Carter.”
His frown deepened, brows knitting together. “What?”
“I saw you.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the whole thing. Not yet. For once it would have been nice for him to be capable of reading minds.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “You said that already.”
She sighed and her voice snagged in her throat, causing her to choke on the words she said next. “With that guy—the one you got in a fight with. I saw you in town trying to give him an envelope.”
His skin drained of all color, fading to match the snowflakes that Anya had cut out for the Christmas tree. “You…”
She nodded and then pulled out her hands and stared at them, unable to meet his eyes again. “What was in the envelope, Carter?” she whispered.
He was quiet. Too quiet. She’d caught him, and they both knew it. She’d figured out that he wasn’t keeping his promise. And now he was scrambling to find an excuse—any excuse so she wouldn’t keep looking at him like he’d made her whole world crumble beneath the destruction of his choices.
Bailey drew her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from wobbling. If he’d only confess to trying to make a bet, if he’d acknowledge he’d made a mistake and he was sorry. If he’d pull her into his arms and swear that part of his life was over… she wanted to think that she’d take him back. But deep down, she wasn’t certain she could.
It took seeing Anya hugging him to break her. Not the meeting with that stranger. Not the tree. Not even the gifts he’d spent his own hard-earned money on.
Her sweet, darling, and accepting daughter had clung to him like he was life itself. Bailey had never seen Anya’s eyes shining with joy like they did tonight—not even when Jack had been alive. Carter had done that—he’d brought the magic of Christmas into the life of the one person who meant the most to Bailey, and he was going to rip it all away.
The lump in Bailey’s throat enlarged painfully. Still, Carter hadn’t spoken up, so she finally drew the courage from parts unknown to meet his stare. “Well? Are you going to tell me? Are you going to give me the perfect explanation so that we can end this little argument?”
“Were you spying on me?” he asked hoarsely, ignoring her question. “Were you following me?” There was a degree of panic beneath the venom he spewed at her. Or maybe that was just her own wishful thinking. If she were to ever get caught red-handed, she would be panicked.
But she wasn’t Carter, and he appeared to only be worried about what she’d seen. It didn’t matter. If she was correct in her assumptions of what she’d seen, then this relationship needed to end.
Bailey shook her head, not in answer to his questions, but a reaction to the way her heart clung to the hope that everything would work out. This wasn’t a fairytale. And while Carter had managed to bring back magic for her daughter, he couldn’t fix the betrayal he’d committed against her. “I can’t believe you would do that.” Her words were just above a whisper, but he withdrew as if she’d slapped him clean across the face.
This time he didn’t meet her gaze as he stared at the gifts near his feet. “I was doing this all for you—for Anya.”
“I didn’t ask you to!” Her voice rose, and he flinched again. “I never wanted any of it.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched, the pressure from his tightened jaw wreaking havoc with his face.
“Take it back.” It was an absurd request, and she knew it, but she wasn’t capable of acting logically. Her head was reeling, her mouth behaving in ways that were unbecoming. Bailey swept her hand through the air, gesturing toward the adorable representation of what the holidays currently meant to all of them. “Take it all back,” she wheezed. “I don’t want to see it in my home.”
His head snapped up and the fire that burned in his gaze illuminated every inch of his face. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said take it back.” This time her voice sounded more like a squeak than anything else.
“No.”
Her brows lifted, but she didn’t have the strength to do anything else.
“Yeah,” he muttered, taking a step toward her. “I said no. I’m not going to take the one shred of happiness that Anya finally has.”
Her head reared backward. “Are you suggesting?—”
“You know exactly what I’m saying. You couldn’t make your daughter’s dreams come true, but I could. I managed to do everything you couldn’t, just like I thought I might have to.”
Bailey lost the ability to stand on her own two feet. It was as if he’d reached into her throat and tore out her spine. She took two unsteady steps toward the couch and sat on the edge. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him he couldn’t speak to her like that. She wanted to beat her fists into his chest, reminding him that she’d done her best. She’d done what she could with what she had.
But she did none of that. How could she when she knew he was right? All her insecurities had been dug up and brought to the surface. She was a failure as a mother, and Anya had been a casualty.
“Bailey—” Carter whispered with anguish.
She snapped up a hand, cutting him off from what he might say. Tears stung her cheeks, burning as they made their escape down her cheeks. “Out.”
“Bailey—” he tried again.
Shaking her head, Bailey glued her focus to the coffee table. More tears streamed down her cheeks. This wasn’t how she’d wanted this conversation to go. When he left, she knew he’d be taking a piece of her heart with him, and yet she knew if he stayed, he’d only chip away at the little she still had left after her marriage to Jack. “You need to leave,” she said firmer this time. “Get your things and get out.”
The air was cold—so, so cold. She shivered as she waited for him to take his first step. The seconds of the clock slowed down painfully, each one a deafening strike to what they used to be.
“But—”
“I mean it, Carter. I want you out. You broke the rules. You put my daughter at risk, and I won’t stand for you to do it again and again.” Bailey shut her eyes tight. While she’d found her voice and she’d successfully made it appear firm, in reality she was collapsing. Her heart had turned into the epitome of a black hole. It was closing in on itself, and one of these days, Bailey wasn’t sure she’d even have enough soul to save herself.
When Carter finally moved, he stormed toward his room. It didn’t take long to pack his things, and suddenly he was back in the main room, sweeping across the room before pausing at the door. “I filled some stockings for you and Anya. They’re in the closet, hidden behind a box. Don’t forget to put them out on Christmas Eve after Anya goes to bed.” He didn’t move a single muscle for a moment as if he expected Bailey to speak.
When she didn’t, he yanked the door open. Cold air burst into the room, adding shivers to her trembling. Even though he’d all but confirmed her suspicions, Bailey couldn’t shake the feeling that she still didn’t have the whole story.
And whose fault was that?
Carter. That was who.
Bailey shifted on the couch until she was settled into the corner. She stared at the tree, her eyes drifting over the whole thing. It was a beautiful sight, and Carter’s generosity had been appreciated.
Maybe she should have told him just how much she appreciated it before he’d left.
No.
This was better.
They’d ended things quickly—like ripping off a Band-Aid. She couldn’t have asked for anything more.