CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
He did. As usual. He wore dress pants, a button down with a couple of buttons open at his neck, and his sleeves rolled up. It was the epitome of dressy casual, and he wore it well.
“How’s your week been?” he asked.
“I’ll catch you up on it sometime.” At his look of worry, I added, “It’s been great, though. It couldn’t have possibly worked out better.”
Someone needed him, and he went to handle whatever party crisis he was needed for, while I started mingling.
I looked around with fresh eyes at all these people who’d become so important to me over the years.
I was staying. They weren’t temporary friends.
These were the people I was choosing. They were the people I’d raise children around, spend holidays with, and eventually grow old with.
It felt good. I was more than happy with the decisions I’d made over the past few weeks and months.
I was reminiscing when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see Blair Hastings standing behind me. “Can we go somewhere to talk for a second?”
“Sure,” I nodded, following her to one of the back rooms in Tim’s house that was unoccupied for the moment.
We went in and she closed the door. “What you overheard at the Christmas Eve ball…”
“Don’t worry. I would never tell anyone. I promise. I know you don’t know me as well as you know Sadie, but I guarantee I’m not the kind of person to spread gossip.”
She looked relieved.
I bit my lip. “But I do want to ask… is he hurting you?”
Blair looked taken aback. “Scott? You mean physically?”
I nodded.
She chuckled. “No. There are plenty of problems in my marriage but that’s not one of them, thank goodness.”
“The things he was saying to you were emotionally abusive…”
“I know what you’re saying. But he wasn’t saying them to me. He was saying them about me to a group of friends. He had no idea I’d overhear him. I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but he’s not as big an asshole as he came off as that night.”
I had serious doubts about that, and she must’ve seen it on my face. She sighed. “Our marriage isn’t great. I don’t think it’s a secret, either. But we’re doing the best we can.”
“Have you… considered leaving him?”
She pushed her beautiful dark curls over her shoulder.
“So many times. But something always comes up.” She rested a hand on her abdomen.
“I’m pregnant again. I don’t regret it, but it was a bit of a surprise.
It’s just never the best time to leave when you’re pregnant.
I don’t work, we’re on his insurance, and on and on.
” She got a bright smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her pretty brown eyes.
“Anyway, enough of that. Tonight’s about celebrating. So, let’s go do it.”
I grinned. “Sounds great.” Something caught my eye just as we were about to leave. “You go on ahead,” I said when she looked at me quizzically. “I want to look through this old yearbook.”
“See you out there. And thanks for keeping this to yourself, Natalie.”
“Not a problem. And you can always talk to me.” I made eye contact trying to drive home the point that I meant it.
“Thanks,” she said with her sweet smile, and hurried away.
I moved over to the bookshelf I’d seen the yearbook on and reached to pull it off. When I did, a couple of other books fell off. “Jeez, Tim,” I muttered. “Could you have packed it in any tighter?” He obviously needed bigger bookcases.
When I reached down to pick up the books that fell, I happened to notice that one of them was open, and I saw my name in his handwriting. Frowning, I picked it up. It looked to be a journal.
I closed it immediately. This wasn’t something I should be looking at. I hurried to put them back on the shelves, when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Hey.”
I spun around guiltily to see Tim standing there. “Hey. I, uh, didn’t look at anything. These just fell off when I reached for the yearbook, and I was putting them back when you came in.”
He made a face at me. “Why are you being weird? What books are they?” He stepped closer, and when he saw the books, journals, really, that I was holding, his face went pale. “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Those… well, those are for you, Nat. I just hadn’t planned on giving them to you yet.”
“They’re for me?” That didn’t make sense. Why would Tim be giving me his journals? “There are four of them.” My eyes widened. “Are they full?”
He chuckled, still looking awkward. “Three are full. The fourth one is about halfway there.” He sighed and sat on a leather sofa.
“Look, I haven’t really told you, but I started going to see a therapist after you left.
I’ve been going more than a year now, and it’s helped me a lot.
It really has. What happened between us…
it just wouldn’t have gone down like that if I’d had therapy when I should have.
” He looked me in the eyes. “When you and so many others told me to. But I was stubborn, and it screwed up my life. And you got hurt in the process.” He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.