Chapter 57
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Cara
Today’s my four-month wedding anniversary—not that we’re celebrating those milestones—and this limbo we’re stuck in is quickly becoming more stressful than worrying about heating costs and a shabby roof had ever been.
We never really defined how long we’d continue the charade after the closing. We thought we’d both know when the time was right. But our lives have become routine and my nerves can’t take much more.
It’s almost impossible to spend long weekends with Hayden, sleeping across the hall from him, and not…
I don’t know. Throw myself at him? I lie awake at night, remembering the night I spent in his bed in Boston, aching to do it again.
I think about what it would be like to have children with him, and raise them with Mel’s as little besties.
And, more than anything, I wish our marriage was real.
It gets harder to maintain the facade every time he walks through the door on Thursday nights. And it’s hard for him, too, I think. We obviously have sexual chemistry, and attraction isn’t the problem. But wanting to sleep with me doesn’t mean he wants to spend the rest of his life married to me.
So I’m determined to start moving this process along so I can maybe get some peace back in my life. Sure, my heart will be broken, but he won’t know that. And everybody else in my life will accept it because divorce is usually heartbreaking.
Even though I’m expecting Hayden home any time, I’m making one last run to my mother’s house with a few boxes of things I know she wants to keep.
The last time I brought things over, she grumbled about not wanting to fill up her new home with old stuff, but I told her I’d stack them neatly along the garage wall to keep them out of the way.
And then, after the renovations are done, we can figure out where it goes.
Just one more lie on top of the ones I’ve already told her.
“I can’t believe you brought more stuff here, Carolina,” Gin says, watching me add the boxes to the top of the stack with her hands on her hips.
“We can’t renovate anything until we’ve cleaned out most of the house,” I remind her.
“Where is he going to start?” she wants to know. “And when?”
“I’m not sure, but it can’t be until I’ve made space for them to work.”
She sighs. “He should be helping you with this.”
She should be helping me, actually, but I keep my mouth shut about that.
“He’s not even back from Boston yet. My late afternoon client rescheduled because the dog may or may not have swallowed an AirPod and they’re taking him to the vet, so I thought I’d get a little done.
You should come over and see how it’s looking. ”
“I might, when I get a chance.”
“There are four days every week Hayden is not there, if you’re avoiding him.”
“I’m not avoiding him,” she snaps, but then her shoulders drop. “Maybe a little bit. I thought the day your father threw him off our porch would be the last time I ever saw that boy.”
Wait…what? “What are you talking about, Mom? When was Hayden on our porch?”
She twitches, as if my question startled her. “Never mind.”
Hayden left Sumac Falls right after he graduated, and my dad passed away five years ago.
That means the most likely time for Hayden to have shown up on our porch was back when we were in high school.
Even during fundraisers with cool prizes—like the year the person who sold the most wrapping paper won a scooter—the Reillys going door-to-door did not include our door, and vice versa.
It doesn’t make sense. There’s only one reason I can come up with for Hayden to have knocked on our door.
So no, I am not going to never mind.
“When was it?” I ask again, because I still can’t bring myself to ask the important question—the question with an answer that could mean everything I’ve thought about Hayden was a lie.
Was it the night of the homecoming dance?
“It was years ago. I don’t remember and really, what does it matter?”
“It matters to me, Mom.” I set the last box on the floor, not caring about the neat stacks anymore. “Did Hayden come to take me to the homecoming dance?”
“That’s what he said he was there for,” she says, and my stomach knots.
For a few seconds, I’m afraid I might actually be sick.
“But a Reilly? You knew better than that, so your father got rid of him. And we didn’t want to fight with you about it, so it was easier to let you believe he never showed up. ”
My entire body is cold, and it takes an effort to make words form. “What did Dad tell him?”
“I don’t know what Marcus said to him. All he told me was that we didn’t need to worry about a filthy Reilly sniffing around our daughter ever again.” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “He’d said he’d taken care of it and that was the end of it.”
“All this time you let me believe he stood me up?” The anger warms me, and I start walking toward my car. “I have to go.”
“Carolina, it was for your own good,” she calls after me.
I spin around, so angry I’m afraid to get close to her. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m leaving.”
I tune out whatever it is she’s saying in a futile effort to convince me she didn’t do anything wrong.
All the way home, I turn the information over and over in my head, trying to figure out why Hayden didn’t tell me he showed up.
I’m dismayed, but not surprised, by my parents’ actions.
But it makes no sense for Hayden to have let me believe he stood me up. Especially now.
I’m not sure if I’m pleased or even more angry that his car is in the driveway when I pull in. I could probably use a little time to process this new information, but I’m not going to get it.
Penny meets me at the door, and I pick her up to give her a cuddle. I miss her so much when she’s gone, and the fact she’s not going to be a part of my life much longer gets the tears flowing again.
Hayden comes down the stairs, stopping short when he sees my face. “What’s wrong. What happened?”
I kiss the top of Penny’s head and then carefully set her down. By the time I straighten, Hayden is halfway across the room, but I hold up my hand. “My mother accidentally told me you showed up at my house to take me to the homecoming dance.”
The change is instantaneous. His body tenses, straightening his spine, and his jaw clenches. He’s silent for so long I’m starting to think he’s just not going to say anything, but then he nods once in a sharp gesture. “I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
I hold up my hands, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. “You didn’t think there would be a difference between my parents being awful and me thinking the boy I loved stood me up for what was going to be the most amazing night of my teenage life?”
“They were never going to let me see you, Cara.”
“What did my dad say to you?”
More jaw clenching. Silence. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I repeat, sadness blending with my anger. “It doesn’t matter anymore because you got payback. That’s why you dragged me into this, right? He threw you off our porch, so now you own the porch?”
The way his chin lifts slightly gives me my answer. “You knew right from the start I wanted this house.”
“Yes, the house. But I thought it was just because you loved the house and wanted to restore it. And me getting out from under it would be an added bonus.”
“That part’s true.”
“But you really wanted to buy it because my father told you that you weren’t good enough to even stand on the porch. So you bought it.”
“Two things can be true at the same time.”
“This is not okay,” I yell, and then I take a deep breath because I don’t like raising my voice, and I don’t want to scare Penny.
“Why not? What does it matter what my motivation was? Look at this house. You can’t deny it needs the attention I can afford to give it.”
“I would never have gone along with this if I’d known.”
“That makes no sense to me. What difference does it really make?”
“There’s a big difference between you wanting to save an old house and you using me to send a giant screw you to my dead father.”
“Is there really, though?”
The cold is back, seeping through my body.
“I know we have to play out this pretense, but I don’t even want to look at you right now.
Obviously you can’t drive all the way back to Boston when you just got here, but you can go sleep at your mother’s tonight.
” There’s a pang in my chest at the thought of him leaving, but I ignore it. “That helps sell the divorce, anyway.”
“It’s too soon, Cara. If your mother thinks—” His words break off and he takes a deep breath. “It’s too soon for us to separate.”
If my mother thinks we purposely defrauded her out of the house, she could sue him, I think.
Honestly, I don’t care right now. “I’m not filing for divorce tomorrow.
I just need some space and everybody seeing how much time you spend in Boston is a nice little bonus for when I do file. You need to go.”
I give Penny some extra pets, trying not to let tears fall into her hair, and then I turn away and go upstairs. A few minutes later, I hear them leave and the crying really starts.