26 Everleigh Oats In The Water—Ben Howard
Everleigh
Oats In The Water—Ben Howard
Not even the pale dawn rays or fresh, early summer air can bring relief from the magnitude of despair grinding my bones into dust. I’ve sat and stared at the sky long enough for shock to morph into despair, terror .
. . and guilt. The kind of cancerous guilt that grows on bone marrow and can’t be treated with man-made medicine.
Because after all this time, the anonymous ghost that’s haunted me since I stole that ring finally has a name.
Isabel Vale.
Sterling’s deceased wife.
I always figured there was a reason he never discussed her. Not beyond the basics, at least. I didn’t even know how she died. But I never could’ve imagined the breadth of his loss. Or how it would tunnel through solid ground to carve a dangerous highway straight back to my own demons.
Hunching over, I violently throw up again, but there’s nothing but acid left inside me to be expelled. The last few heaves have been much the same. Nothing can excavate Christopher’s incessant whispering, regardless of how hard my body attempts to repel the claws he sank into me long ago.
He killed her.
I’m married to a murderer.
No matter what anyone says, I could’ve done something.
Anything. I refuse to believe otherwise.
But that monster installed a fear response in me with the trained finesse of his profession and created the perfect fail-safe.
He knew exactly what he was doing, and that I’d never have the strength to expose his crimes.
Never question me, darling wife.
You are nothing without me. You don’t even exist.
A volcano of despair crawls up my oesophagus and bursts free, joining stomach acid and snotty tears.
Never forget, Everleigh.
You’ll always belong to me.
“You did this!” I cry up to the brightening sky. “You killed her!”
And you washed the blood away.
Who’s guilty now?
The self-hatred infiltrates my entire being until I can’t think straight. That heinous whisper is right, imaginary or not. I bleached his clothes. I cleaned the blood spill. I kept my mouth shut like a perfect, obedient wife and didn’t question his injuries again after that night.
I never went to the police.
I ran away without looking back.
I failed to defend Piper from him.
Taking that ring hasn’t absolved me of any guilt. I may have preserved evidence by sneaking it out of Christopher’s reach, but I’ve still spent all these months safely tucked away, trying my utmost to forget the woman I left behind, bleaching those bloodstained clothes.
My knees soak into the dew-laden grass. I’m chilled to the bone, but cold sweat still slicks across my neck and forehead from dry heaving on repeat. When a hand strokes the top of my head, I shrivel away from the comfort.
“P-Please don’t touch me.”
Not even Fletcher’s familiar pine-and-juniper scent can bring me back from the brink as he sinks to his haunches. I won’t allow myself to believe it’s sympathy or understanding in his hard blue diamonds.
“My husband killed his wife. He ruined Sterling’s life.”
He reaches out to push sweat-soaked hair from my face. A smile. It’s bleak, but there.
“How do we come back from that?” I break down, tears pouring freely.
Recoiling away from his calloused palm cupping my cheek allows me to scramble backwards. His gaze shutters, absorbing the rejection. I can’t be touched by him. Not until I’ve made this right. I vowed not to hurt them, and instead, I’ve brought death himself to their door.
And shattered the remains of Sterling’s heart.
The heart he entrusted to me.
Leaving Fletcher crouched in the grass, I find my feet and flee inside. It’s no better back at the scene of the crime. Leo is asleep with his face pressed on the kitchen table while Sterling nurses a glass of whiskey in the adjacent snug, staring at burned-out embers in the fireplace.
“Hi,” I greet uncertainly.
He stares into the tumbler of liquor. “Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
Sterling nods, taking another gulp of whiskey.
“I just wanted to say that I’ll go.” Regret coats each traitorous syllable. “You never have to see me again, Sterl. I’ll disappear and make this right . . . for you. And for Isabel.”
“Did you know?”
“No, of course not. I had no idea it was her.”
I’m not sure if he looks relieved or just as devastated as when I unveiled that ring. It doesn’t matter either way. As long as Christopher is breathing free air, I don’t deserve to be here.
“But I knew she was someone’s sister, daughter, friend. Someone’s wife.” I use the sleeve of the borrowed flannel shirt to swipe aside tears. “And I still did nothing.”
“You got out alive,” he supplies.
“I was weak and selfish.”
“You survived.”
“What about hiding here, letting myself get comfortable, creating a home.” Pain gathers and swells inside me in a rising tide. “Falling in love.”
“Ed—uh, Everleigh . . .”
“I was selfish to think happiness is possible,” I cut him off. “But for a moment . . . I could almost taste it. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a home. A place to exist freely. I belonged.”
Standing up and discarding his whiskey glass, Sterling faces me from across the room, a storm blustering over his previously numb expression.
“You do belong,” he says defiantly.
“No. Not anymore. He’s taken that from me too.”
“Only if you allow him to.”
“What’s there to allow?” I laugh brokenly. “Look what he’s done to us.”
“Do you see anyone telling you to go? Or even blaming you?”
“Maybe you don’t right now, but you will.”
“Bullshit,” he hisses.
“I lived with him, Sterling! Day in and day out for five years.”
“And that monster abused you just as much as he did my wife.”
“He didn’t kill me!”
“But he sure as hell tried his best to!” His shout carries across the room, seeming to rock the cottage walls.
“Then why am I still standing here?” I roar back.
Sterling stumbles, appearing shell shocked. He seems to assess me with new eyes. My fists have clenched, longing for something to attack. If Christopher were here, I might just kill him myself for ruining what I’ve painstakingly built since the moment I stumbled into this small town.
“I spent years of my life praying I wouldn’t wake up in the morning. But I still woke up. I lived a life of luxury while you suffered through the grief of losing your loved one.”
“There’s more than one way to die,” he rasps through unimaginable grief. “And a living death is no less cruel.”
“You can’t be so forgiving.”
“Why not?” Sterling throws his hands in the air.
“Because you should be angry!”
“You’re right. I am. I’m so fucking angry I can’t see straight. If that asshole were here right now, I’d choke him out without breaking a goddamn sweat, that’s how angry I am.”
“Then tell me you hate me! Blame me! Do anything!”
His own cheeks dampen, mirroring my heartache. “I am angry . . . but not with the victim of an abusive piece of shit who did the best she could to endure him.”
The urge to flee almost carries me from the room, but Sterling thunders over to me to ensure I can’t escape his emotional onslaught. I writhe against the embrace he wraps me in, disgusted by the broken parts of me that long to be held by him.
“No, Sterl . . . Don’t. You have to hate me.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers madly into my hair.
“I’m married to a monster! The man who killed your wife!”
“And I’m in love with the woman who was brave enough to leave him,” Sterling fires back with just as much force. “The beautiful, sensitive, kind, intelligent, caring angel who accepted not just my imperfections, but those of my brother and best friend too.”
Cradling my face, he tunnels into my brain with nothing but his stare.
“The person who saved us from ourselves.”
“Sterling,” I plead, though for what I’m not sure.
“Don’t leave us. Please.”
“You don’t even know me, and my name . . .”
“I don’t care what your real name is. Eden, Everleigh. Choose a new one if you’d like.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s all the same to me. I want a future with the person standing right in front of me, and I don’t care about the past. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
His forehead brushes mine, noses aligned and breath entwined. It feels like he’s cracked my skull open with a hammer and chisel, granting him access to a tomb that was sealed off from the world to preserve the horrors imprisoned inside.
“Why don’t you hate me?” I weep against his lips.
“Because you’re a part of me now. And it’s a part I’d like to keep.”
“But I lied to you! To all of you!”
“You survived the only way you know how.” He kisses salt-laced moisture from my face and mouth. “I’m not going to blame you for someone else’s sins. That’s not how our story ends.”
“Just stop . . .”
“No. I will not stop loving you. Not now, not ever.”
The kisses he feathers over my face are bittersweet, showering me with appreciation I so desperately want to accept. Deserving or not. This man gave me a home when I wasn’t even looking for one and still won’t let me pull my mask back into place. Not even after learning the truth.
I’ve never had unconditional love like it. Not since my father’s heart gave out and he left me alone in this life. Years of Christopher’s emotional warfare stripped away that possibility . . . until them.
Hawkthorpe changed everything.
Now the peace I’ve found is closer than ever to imploding in my face. A minor setback won’t stop Christopher from retaking his captive. Until he’s behind bars, I’ll never be free. And neither will they.
So I let Sterling shower me with kisses and cage the whimpering voice that wants to push him away. If I’m to leave and right this wrong, they cannot follow me. It isn’t safe. Christopher will make good on his threat and erase anyone who poses a threat to his control.
“Come to bed?” Sterling entreats.
“What about Piper and the others?”
“We can go to the hospital together once we’ve rested.”
“But the police are coming back. They’ll want more information.”
“I know, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. When they return, we will tell them everything. They’ll reopen Isabel’s case and get that prick arrested before sundown.”
Impossible.
But I don’t say that. Not out loud. If Christopher were easy to catch, they would’ve pinned his crimes on him a long time ago. Not to mention the rich and powerful friends kept close in his back pocket. He’s treated half the government and their spouses for a variety of mental disorders.
Police won’t work.
Not on this beast.
But if I can get him to admit it, rile him up into confessing when he thinks no one is listening . . . perhaps we’d have a fighting chance. He’ll never admit the truth to anyone else. Only I can provoke my husband into revealing his hand.
“Okay?” Sterling searches my face.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Wearing a mask might’ve kept me safely imprisoned for years of my life, but now it hides my deceit from the men I love.
“You can do this, Everleigh. Just tell them the truth.”
My nod is robotic. “I will.”
“Come on. You need to rest.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Of course.”
Holding me by the waist, Sterling steers me out into the kitchen. Leo is still fast asleep. He fills a glass with water to give me some more painkillers, watching me gulp them down. We both tense up when Fletcher walks into the room in running gear.
“You’re not going to sleep?” Sterling frowns at him.
Fletcher lifts a brow. That’s a no.
“We’re going to catch a few hours before the police return.”
The look Fletcher scans over me is eviscerating.
“I’m going to tell them everything,” I recite.
“With our help,” Sterling adds. “We have to end this.”
The pressure of Fletcher’s stare almost causes me to crack. I’m not sure if he buys it. But he nods, stooping to shove his feet into athletic shoes, then presses a light kiss to my temple as he passes me to leave. Sterling stares after him, then shrugs.
“He’ll crash soon enough.”
“Should we make Leo go to bed?” I glance at the snoring heap. “That can’t be comfortable.”
“Nah, leave him. I don’t want to share you right now.”
Sterling bypasses my ground floor bedroom and takes me upstairs. I linger in the doorway to his bedroom while he strips off his clothes and places his wedding band on the table along with his wife’s returned ring.
Seeing the two matching pieces reunited stings my chest. I can’t linger in the feeling for too long. Fletcher will be gone for a while, but I need to be fast if I’m going to pull this off.
In the bed, Sterling’s large form cocoons me. I’ve stripped off the sweatpants that Fletcher donated, leaving me in a T-shirt and flannel. Heat builds beneath the covers where he cradles me close. I’m thankful to be facing the wall where he can’t see my expression.
“Everleigh,” he enunciates, his tenor riddled with exhaustion. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“I’m really sorry I lied to you.”
“I’m sorry you were put in a position where lying was your only option. I can’t imagine how lonely that was.”
“It’s nothing I’m not used to. I’ve always been alone.”
He nuzzles the back of my head. “You’re not now.”
“No?”
“No. You have a family.”
My chest aches, throbbing with each heartbeat. And it’s my job to keep you safe. After everything that’s happened, it’s up to me to atone for my cowardice.
“Sleep.” Sterling gently kisses my hair. “You’ll need your strength.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat again.
“I know, baby. Shut your eyes now.”
Making myself relax into his hold costs me dearly. Though I couldn’t fall asleep with how wired I am, the temptation to snuggle down and bathe in his familiar comfort battles to take hold.
Instead, I listen to his heavy breathing evening out. The steady pounding of his heartbeat. How his nose whistles on an inhale, growing longer and quieter as sleep beckons. At least one of us can find some peace.
When I’ve counted to five hundred in my head, I extricate myself from Sterling’s strong arms, then tuck him into bed. He’s out like a light. The night’s events have taken a toll. He doesn’t stir once while I re-dress and whisper an apology.
At the last moment, I swipe the mobile phone from his bedside table. Half charged. That’ll do. If this is to work, I’ll need to capture Christopher’s confession. I can deliver the recording to the authorities and circumvent his powerful reputation.
Irrefutable proof.
Not even he can worm his way out of that bind.
Creeping through the cottage without disturbing any ancient floorboards sends my heart rate skyrocketing. Leo hasn’t shifted from the kitchen table. I wince when his car keys jangle, slowly lifting them from the bowl under the microwave, but he only huffs, then goes right back to snoring.
On the threshold, I stop to watch him. Even amidst the chaos I’ve brought into his life, Leo looks at peace in his home. With the family he’s fought so hard to keep, no matter their refusal to ever abandon him like everyone else in his life did.
Walking away takes every ounce of courage I have. I’m doing the one thing I swore I never would. But this isn’t an abandonment—it’s my way of repaying them for giving me a home and something to fight for.
That’s what I have to do.
Fight.
For them.