Chapter Sixteen
Star: What's going on? Jack actually sounded worried when he told me to check on you.
GUY STOOD MOTIONLESS outside the glass doors of their ranch house, the Texas heat pressing against his skin like a suffocating blanket, sweat beading along his collar despite the evening hour.
Thirty minutes had passed since he’d parked his car in the circular gravel driveway, thirty minutes of standing here like a coward while his wife was inside, probably packing her life away from him piece by piece.
Guy tried but failed to make himself breathe properly, each attempt at drawing air feeling like drowning in reverse, his lungs forgetting their basic function as his mind kept replaying the devastation on her face when she’d realized the truth.
All he could see was the look on his wife's face...upon learning how he had planned to hurt her.
Shame her.
Destroy her.
Guy pounded his chest, but it did no good.
His heart was dead.
I'm sorry.
So, so sorry.
His wife's words echoed in his memory like shards of glass that scraped the walls of his brain...while stabbing his chest over and over.
Guy forced himself to move after some time, his only motivation, to make it up to his wife...no matter the cost.
He steeled himself to face the consequences of his stupidity, his hands trembling when he reached for the handle.
But the moment he found his wife in the glass-walled aviary, the sound of her heartbroken sobs hit him like a physical blow.
She was crying so hard that her whole body shook with the force of it, her movements clumsy and desperate while she struggled to fit all of the birds’ essentials into a large zippered tote, her tears making everything blurry when she fumbled with water dispensers and packages of specialized seed.
Apple squawked in distress from his perch, sensing her emotional turmoil, while Manny and Maiden huddled together on their favorite branch, their usual cheerful chatter replaced by worried silence.
“Please stay.”
The words came out hoarse and raw, torn from somewhere deep in his throat, and her head jerked up at the sound, her lovely face still ravaged by tears.
“You know I love them, too,” Guy said jerkily, his voice cracking on the words when he looked toward the birds who had become such an unexpected part of his world. “Right?”
His wife slowly nodded...even as she slowly wrapped her arms around her body as if prepared to ward off another killing blow.
From him.
The realization that she was literally bracing herself against him, against the man who was supposed to protect her, sent fear gnawing at his bones, but Guy reminded himself doggedly that he owed it to his innocent wife to finish what he had to say, no matter how much it destroyed him to see that defensive posture.
“We both know it’s not fair for them to suffer another move,” he managed to grit out. "Right?"
"R-Right."
It hurt to see how just that one word seemed to cost her everything, and Guy had to clench his hands against the urge to reach for her.
“But I can’t...” she started, then stopped, her voice breaking completely.
“I’m not asking you to.”
Guy's heart started bleeding at what he was about to say.
She looked at him in a daze. "I...I don't understand—"
“I’ll be the one to move out.”
Tenderhearted as she was, his wife started shaking her head, but Guy knew there was no other way but this.
“The ranch is yours.” The words made Guy feel like he was signing his own death warrant. “Everything here is yours. All of it. I won’t take any of it away from you.”
“G-Guy—”
“I love you,” he said rawly, the words scraping his throat.
Her lips started to tremble, and for a moment, just one damn moment, her mouth parted as if she wanted to say something, as if the words were right there waiting to spill out—
But then she pressed them together firmly and looked away, and that almost-response hurt worse than silence ever could.
"Can you...can you at least tell me that you believe I love you?" And this time, it was Guy's own voice that cracked. "Because I do, sweetheart. I love you."
But all she did was look at him, her hands clutching a bag of seeds like a lifeline.
“I love you.”
This was the only thing left for him to do. Repeat the words one last time—
"Always."
Before finally turning his back on her...because he could see that looking at him for one second longer would break her completely, and he’d already done enough damage.
THE WEEK THAT FOLLOWED was a blur of work and more work.
The only reprieve he allowed himself from it was when he had apologized to Krista and Jack.
Separately at first, then together the second time.
It was only fitting, considering how it was Guy's own pride that had dragged them unwittingly into his plans for vengeance.
He had been hoping exhaustion would permanently numb him to losing everyone and everything that mattered to him, but Guy soon realized even this, too, had its limits. He could work himself to death if he wished, but there was just no way to completely work the pain out of his system.
As days passed by, even his friends took notice of how he had lost weight, but he couldn't seem to derive any comfort from their concern and offers of sympathy and comfort.
By the second week, desperation had gotten the better of him.
All Guy wanted was to hear his wife's voice.
..only to find out that she had blocked his number.
Tagged all of his email addresses as spam.
And deleted all of her socials as if even sharing Internet space with Guy was an unbearable torment.
Poppy was his only source of information, and while he believed her when she told him that she and Valerian would keep praying for Jillian and him, her words also remained the same, the regret in her eyes only deepening every time he asked her about his wife.
I'm sorry, Guy. I wish I have something different to tell you, but I don't. It's always the same. She says she doesn't hate you, and I believe her. She says she wishes you the best, and I believe that, too. But I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. But that's all she has to say.
By the time a month had passed, Guy was this close to driving himself off a cliff, literally .
His hands had developed a permanent tremor, his eyes were sunken and bloodshot from sleepless nights, and his assistant had started leaving protein shakes on his desk because she’d noticed he’d forgotten how to eat.
Rock bottom had left crater marks, and he couldn’t even make himself care that everyone in his life was watching him self-destruct.
All he knew was that he just wanted to stop hurting and missing her, wanted to stop waking up every morning with the crushing realization that she wasn’t there, that she would never be there again because of what he’d done.
The thought of facing another day in this hollow existence felt impossible, and so when he found himself behind the wheel at 2 AM, staring down at the winding canyon road while seriously considering just pressing the accelerator and ending this unbearable ache once and for all—
Meow .
The sound was so damn soft and pitiful, that at first Guy thought he had finally lost his mind. But then it came again, a tiny, desperate cry that seemed to be coming from somewhere near his front tire—
Found you.
It was the tiniest little thing, so damn small it easily fit in his palm, and its eyes sealed shut by days’ worth of dirt and debris.
It mewled as it wriggled, its gray and white fur matted with motor oil and God knew what else.
The little creature was barely alive, its breathing shallow and labored, but the moment Guy’s fingers touched its fragile body—
Thank you.
The kitten turned toward his warmth, and Guy sucked in a sharp breath as the tiny creature communicated its trust with just a tiny little rub of its head. Instinct kicked in at that moment, with Guy cradling the kitten against his chest as he drove to the nearest emergency vet clinic.
It was already past midnight, the streets empty and dark, but because Guy was willing to pay whatever it took (the fact that the sleepy receptionist recognized him didn't hurt either), the clinic opened its doors just for his rescue.
"We'll need to run some tests, have him connected to the IV..."
Him? So the kitten was a boy then?
"Sir? Do we have your permission?"
"Yes, of course. Whatever you think is best. I just want him to survive."
The nurse showed him to the waiting room. "Please wait here."
Fluorescent lights glared down at him as he took a seat.
He expected the silence to be overbearing as he waited for updates, but instead, he could feel the tightness in his chest gradually easing.
It was as if someone he couldn't see was choosing to share his burden.
Lifting the weight off his shoulders so he could finally. ..
God.
Stop drowning.
Remember to breathe.
And realize—
You sent that kitten...
Guy watched his hands start to shake for no reason he could explain.
To save me.
Didn't you?
A part of him wanted to laugh. And weep. Because surely this was a sign of insanity, his heartache driving him to the brink that he was now talking in his mind—
I did, son.
And yet Guy knew...
He heard what he heard. He hadn't imagined it. And it was this that had him slowly hunching down and burying his face in his hands, his shoulders rocking as tears that he had refused to shed for almost his entire life finally rolled down his cheeks.
You knew I wanted to kill myself.
I did.
Why didn't You just let me die?
Because it wasn't your time, and to let you die would mean not having you with me after this world.
Stop acting like You give a shit about me.
I have loved you even before you were born.
You really expect me to believe that? How can You say You love me when You were never around? Where were You in all the times I needed You?
I was always by your side.
The voice inside Guy's mind was gentle and deep. Powerful and eternal. And so infinitely tender in His mercy and compassion as His Father guided him to see the truth.
You just didn’t want to look My way until now.