Chapter 20
Fai
Iglanced back at Sarah, who was still following me faithfully but had been quiet since our new reality set in.
I couldn’t explain why, but when I went through Gabriel’s documents, I knew I needed to get her out of that house as fast as possible.
Call it a gut feeling or a premonition—whatever you wanted—I just knew I needed to get her out.
I was grateful that I had followed my intuition.
It was a close call getting to her. I had managed to sneak out of the office via the window before Gabriel could catch me.
Sarah was getting ready to shower and had left the bathroom window open; it was the perfect opportunity to reach her.
I hadn’t expected the shower to be on when I approached, but I had no other choice.
I had climbed in, taking off my shoes to keep my steps quiet, and managed to get inside without anyone noticing. Not even her.
I felt horrendous about scaring her as badly as I had, and I hated feeling her fight against me even more, but it was necessary to keep her silent.
I was grateful she had trusted me enough to come without question.
She didn’t know why we needed to move so quickly, but she listened dutifully, even helping us find a way into the woods at that last moment.
We were both sore, exhausted, and beat up from running on the forest floor with no shoes, but we had to keep going.
I knew there was a house just north of the cabin.
It was a few miles as the crow flies, but we were both too wary to leave the safety of the trees, scared Gabriel would be there. So, we were taking the long way.
“How are your feet holding up?” I asked again. I had offered her my own socks to give her extra protection, but she had refused, explaining it was better for us both to be uncomfortable than for one of us to be extremely so.
She sighed, probably annoyed that I had asked again. “They’re as good as they’re going to be… given the circumstances.”
Her voice was tired and withdrawn. I knew she was angry with me; it was obvious by how curt her answers were.
Sarah usually filled the silence, but now she was forcing it.
Not that I blamed her. I was angry with myself, too.
If I had just trusted her when she said something was off with Gabriel, she wouldn’t have been placed in this situation.
“I’m really sorry,” I muttered, breaking the silence again.
I heard her stop and turned to see why. She was looking at me, her brown eyes perplexed.
Even dirty, exhausted, and scared, she was beautiful.
The sun was already beginning to set over the mountains, the evening glow illuminating her chocolate skin.
I swallowed and ran a hand through my hair.
“I should have listened to you earlier. Hell, I should have looked into Gabriel before we even came out here. I shouldn’t have jumped into this headfirst without any forethought.
It was stupid, idiotic… and dangerous.” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t stupid,” Sarah interjected after a moment. “You trusted him. Why is it always the wronged person’s fault for trusting the person who hurt them? You didn’t ask for this. You assumed his intentions were as pure as yours. That’s not your fault, Fai.”
“You were almost hurt,” I explained emphatically. “I can never forgive myself for putting you in this situation. I can’t even imagine what would have happened–”
“Don’t,” Sarah interrupted, closing the distance between us and taking my hand in hers, wrapping it between her warm palms. I allowed the heat of her body to seep through my skin, warming me throughout.
“Don’t think about what could have happened.
We’re out, we’re safe…” She looked around and smiled slightly.
“We’re safe-ish. But we’re safer out here than we would have been in that cabin. ”
“You’re really not angry with me?”
Sarah shook her head. “Not remotely. Why do you think I would be? This wasn’t your fault.”
“You’ve been so quiet,” I explained softly.
She smiled with just her eyes. “I’m not angry. I’m thinking back to every interaction I had with him. Do we even call him Gabriel anymore? Is that his name?”
I shrugged. “I guess we do, until we know more.”
“Well, then I’ve been thinking back on every interaction with Gabriel. I… I’m angry at myself for not realizing there was something extraordinarily wrong with him. I’m trained to read people just like him… yet he slipped past all my defenses,” she explained, dejected.
“I don’t think he slipped past your defenses, honey.” The pet name slipped out, completely unintentional, but neither of us corrected it. We never did. “I think I did. You didn’t trust him—didn’t want to give him a chance—until I begged you.”
She pondered for a moment, letting go of my hand and putting hers in her pockets. “I guess that could be the case. You’re the only person who can truly get past my defenses.”
I smiled sadly. “Hasn’t that always been our problem? Why our marriage finally ended? I can get past your defenses and get you to give me more chances than I deserve.”
She shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s not as though you were manipulating me. I always knew exactly what I was doing. Every time I gave you another chance, another opportunity, I knew the hurt I was causing myself… I just always thought it would be worth it because…”
She clamped her lips shut and looked down at her feet. I lifted her chin with my forefinger. “Because what?”
She sighed exasperatedly. “Because I thought you still loved me. But when you didn’t…” She took a step back, breaking our connection again. “That’s when I knew I finally needed to leave. Why fight a losing battle, you know?”
“Sarah,” I breathed, trying to interrupt, but she wouldn’t let me, finally letting the words she had held in for months spill freely.
“It’s so stupid, thinking back now. I can’t believe… I can’t believe how stupid I was. I really thought you loved me. I thought you loved me more than drinking—loved me enough to get sober. But that wasn’t fair of me. I knew that, but I couldn’t help but wonder: why wasn’t I enough?”
“Sarah,” I pleaded, needing the words to stop. Each one cut deeper than the last, reopening an old wound I thought had scarred over.
“I really thought I had moved on. That’s why I came out here with you.
I thought I could be your friend—that we could move on but still have each other in one another’s lives.
But you’re right… you broke down those damned walls I had spent months, even years, building.
You broke them in a few days. Hell, you broke them within a few hours of that goddamned drive here.
” Her voice grew louder, her arms emphasizing every point.
“You have this annoying ability to sneak past every defense I build against you. You always have.”
“Sarah, please,” I tried to interrupt again before I said something I would regret.
“No,” she demanded. “You don’t get it, Fai.
Sure, this is hard for you. I understand that—I really do.
But do you realize how painful it is to have your goddamned soulmate not love you back?
To watch them kill themselves slowly, blowing up every relationship they have, setting fire to everything good in their life?
Because I do!” She seethed, tears finally breaking free.
“I watched the love of my life disappear in front of my eyes. But I thought… no, I knew I could withstand it all. I could survive it all because you loved me. That was enough to get me through the hardest days, because your love was equivalent to life itself, breathing into me every day. And then… you didn’t. You didn’t love me anymore.”
“I lied!” I yelled, interrupting and finally stopping her tirade.
She stepped back, the truth hitting her like a physical blow. Her eyes were wide, the tears flowing freely. “You what?”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the hurt in hers. “I lied,” I whispered.
Her shaking breath took me back to that day—the day I decided to sever the tie binding us together, to set her free. To keep myself from drowning her with me.
Eighteen Months Ago
I stumbled into the house, squinting at the clock. It was just after three a.m., and I hoped Sarah had gone to bed hours ago. I closed the door behind me, wincing when it slammed harder than expected.
There was no denying I was drunk… but it was the most sober I had come home in over a year.
I stumbled to the living room, collapsing onto the sofa.
I needed to take my shoes off, brush my teeth, and shower off the stench, but I just wanted to sleep.
I wanted the noise in my head—the noise that was seeping back into the recesses of my mind as I sobered—to stop.
I lay back on the couch, groaning as my sore body finally found reprieve.
I knew there was no reason to try and get in bed with Sarah, not that I wanted to be there.
I knew she deserved better, and she refused to share a bed with me when I was drunk.
Thus, this couch had been my bed for the last year.
It felt too final to go into the guest room, as if I were accepting the division between us.
I threw my arm over my eyes, starting to drift off when I heard her soft steps patter into the living room.
“Fai?” she called.
I couldn’t face her, not like this. I was too ashamed that I wasn’t strong enough for her. It was all I wanted: to be better, to be the man she loved, to be the man she deserved. But I didn’t know how anymore. I didn’t know how to be anyone but this pathetic version of myself.
“Fai,” she sighed softly. She thought I was asleep, and I didn’t correct her. I lay there, unmoving, forcing my chest to rise and fall evenly. I didn’t want to have another conversation where I apologized and promised to be better, because I knew I would break it.
I didn’t want to break it, but I didn’t know how to stop.