6. He Heard the Voicemails
He Heard the Voicemails
Toby
Groaning, I rolled over…and tumbled headfirst onto the carpet with a thud.
I cracked one eye open. Sun splintered through the gap, and pain tore through my skull. Screwing my eyes shut, I pushed myself up, only to smack my head on something hard.
“Jesus fu—” I bit back the rest of the words, a breath hissing through my teeth. I slumped onto the carpet and stared at the ceiling.
Where the hell am I?
Not the bedroom, and I’d spent enough nights banished to the couch to know this wasn’t my living room, either. My tired eyes wandered over white walls, white tiles, white everything.
Ian’s place.
I scooted out of the coffee table’s punching range and forced myself upright.
“Hey…Ian?”
No answer.
Rolling the stiffness out of my shoulders, I blinked at my watch.
2:54 p.m.
Holy …
The world swayed under my feet when I stood up.
A fumble in my back pocket, and I grabbed my phone.
I’d missed work for the first time in my life, and even if Ian had smoothed over my disappearing act with Gwen, she’d be furious.
I’d better call. I thumped the buttons on my phone, but the screen stayed black.
“Shit!”
I lurched forward, half awake, my feet dragging me to Ian’s room. I stuck my head in the door. A mess of rumpled sheets stared back. He’d probably headed to work.
I walked over to the nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and rummaged around for a charger.
The foil strip of condoms wasn’t something I needed to see—no thanks to that mental image.
A white cord peeked from under a well-worn copy of Lonesome Dove .
Boom! I shifted the book, but my hand stopped cold over the stack of photos Ian had stuck inside as a bookmark.
“What the…”
After a guilty glance over my shoulder, I peeled open the book and sifted through the vacation snaps from a trip to Hawaii years ago.
Ian… Then me… Another one of us holding surfboards and grinning like idiots because we hadn’t been dunked by the waves yet.
My eyes narrowed. One of Gwen. I stared at the only photo I’d ever seen of her without the ridiculous floral sheet she’d insisted on wearing around the resort.
“It’s for sun protection,” she’d huffed, smacking my hand away when I’d danced sneaky fingertips underneath.
Warmth bloomed in my chest. The photo was beautiful. The sunset glowed behind Gwen’s pale, long limbs, her spine dipping into luscious curves barely covered by a teeny blue bikini.
Sorry, buddy, this lovely lady is for my eyes only .
I slipped the picture of Gwen into my pocket, grabbed the charger, snapped the drawer shut, and headed for the kitchen. I probably should’ve thrown my ass into the shower. One sniff of my shirt, and I nearly passed out all over again from the stench of booze.
Why had I let myself get so carried away?
Sighing, I stuck my phone on the charger and leaned my hip against the counter.
Yesterday had been a long day on top of a hundred long days.
Starting the clinic with Ian had seemed like a good idea two years ago, but the responsibilities of being my own boss weighed heavier than any of the freedom he’d promised.
God, what freedom?
I worked twelve hours a day, six days a week, to barely make ends meet. The trust fund my father had set up and Gwen’s financial savvy kept us afloat. Thank God. No matter how much I worked, the clinic was in the red.
My phone pinged.
Back in business .
I bent over the counter to check what I’d missed.
My eyes widened. A flood of notifications drowned the screen.
Messages. Missed calls. I went straight to Gwen’s name and scrolled to the last message I remembered.
The photo of Noah’s four tiny chompers in a cheeky smile beamed back.
I’d shoved that picture in front of the girls manning front reception to show off how cute he was, but I’d never responded to Gwen, not even with a sunglasses emoji or a love heart.
My side of the messages was blank.
Gwen’s wasn’t.
Fair Lady Gwendolyn
Toby, please call me.
I hate doing this in a message. We’ve been in an accident.
My heart stopped in my chest.
“Oh, fuck!”
I ripped my phone out of the wall and sprinted out of the kitchen. The slam of the front door was a second after I’d already punched the elevator button. Waiting for the ding, my eyes raced back to the messages.
My car was hit by some moron not looking before changing lanes. We’re okay, but can you come? We’re on the Harbor Bridge, just past the tunnel.
They’re towing the car. Can you pick us up now?
The elevator chimed. I was in. A frantic push of more buttons, and the elevator was moving.
Please call me.
Toby, please. Did you get my voicemails? We need you.
Please.
Voicemails?
Frantic, I swiped through my phone and checked the missed calls.
Gwen. Marnie. Kayleigh. Too many names. Christ .
I ignored every number and focused on my wife.
My phone was already at my ear when I burst from the elevator, barreled through the lobby, and raced down the street.
The car was… Fuck! Outside Kayleigh’s, about two blocks over. I started running.
The robotic voice of the automated menu crackled in my ear.
“Message received. Yesterday. 6:11 p.m.”
My chest heaving, legs burning, I didn’t slow down. My memory was fuzzy, but I remembered this call. I’d declined it. Gwen can wait . Kayleigh had needed help carrying food out to the balcony. I liked helping out. It had felt good to be useful for once.
The message started.
“T-Toby… It’s… me.”
I stopped dead, all the life sucked from my lungs. Gwen’s voice, but…it wasn’t. There was a waver, an uncertainty I wasn’t used to hearing. Unsettled, I swallowed. She was never uncertain.
“There was, um…” Her breath hitched. “We’ve been in an accident. We need you. Call me back as soon as you get this.”
My hand caught the cold metal of the bus stop as my knees buckled, and my broken laugh filled the empty street.
My wife and son had needed me. And what had I done?
Declined Gwen’s call. I hadn’t even bothered to check my phone because I had no idea where it was.
I’d never thought to text her back. Never thought to call.
I forced my feet down the pavement and hit the button to play the next message.
The high-pitched wail of a baby pierced the air. Noah. Gwen’s voice was almost frantic—nothing like her.
“Toby, did you get my messages? We’re still stuck here. The car’s a write-off. We need to be picked up. Please.” A desperate edge hitched her voice. “Please, can you call me back?”
I hit play again. A fissure had already cracked my chest wide open. I didn’t want to hear any more but forced myself to listen to every word.
Gwen’s next message started.
A helpless, broken voice I’d never heard filled the silence. “Toby, where are you? Please, don’t leave me on my own.”
Shame scalded my veins. My stomach revolted against the white-hot burn of guilt in my chest, and I shot for the nearest hedge just as the vomit surged out of me. The knot in my gut was still clenched tight when I slumped against the car.
Gwen’s words shredded my heart over and over again. Nothing stopped them from replaying in my mind.
Please, don’t leave me on my own.
I’d promised her I’d never abandon her like her brother. I’d vowed to cherish her until the day I died. And where had I been? Helping my wife? Looking after my kid? No. I’d been at Kayleigh’s having a great time, screwing up my marriage, and destroying my life.
I glanced at the apartment complex looming above me. Kayleigh wasn’t there, but I made two new vows as I glared at the fourth-story balcony.
Gwen and Noah first, always. No more alcohol, ever.
I unlocked the car and hopped in. After a deep breath in, reversing, and getting the hell out of there, the rest of the voicemails played.
An angry voice barked at me through the phone. Marnie. “Tobes, answer your phone, dipshit. I’m on my way to the accident, but you’d do yourself a lot of favors if you got there first, okay?”
My foot was heavy on the gas. I never drove over the speed limit—not even when Gwen’s contractions had been coming four minutes apart. The way she’d glared at me from the passenger seat had shriveled my balls to dust, but good ol’ reliable Toby followed the rules.
None of that mattered now. I’d flipped that world upside down. Throwing one more rule out the window wouldn’t make a difference.
“Message received. Today. 3:02 a.m.”
I held my breath.
“Hey.” Marnie again. She was whispering. “I… God… Where are you? Just… Gwen’s falling apart, and I don’t… What do I do? She’s the strong one. Are you… Shit, Tobes. Are you coming back? Call me. Call her. Just call.”
I hit play on the next message.
“Why are you doing this?” Marnie’s voice was still a whisper, but anger spat out into every word. “Send her a message. You know what it did to her when Liam left. Even if you’re too gutless to come home with your tail between your legs, at least send her a fucking message , you coward!”
I sped down the road, only slowing to a stop when the traffic lights had different plans. My fingers twisted tighter around the steering wheel, the nervous energy making me want to pump the gas even as I glared at the light stuck too long on red.
A new notification popped up on the screen.
Marnie had sent a text. No. She’d sent me a screenshot of a post on the North Shore Buy, Swap, and Sell social media page.
My heart plummeted before my head hit the steering wheel. I screwed my eyes shut, but even the angry honks of the cars impatiently revving behind me couldn’t block the furious words Gwen had written in her advertisement.
My husband and his not-so-secret girlfriend are pleased to invite you to the yard sale of the century. Everything must go—including his cheating ass!
I was a dead man.