Chapter 8 #3
“No, she’s probably fine. I can ask.” I don’t move, though, because something else has grabbed my attention.
Bethany is standing with Bobby and Trevor now, and she looks like someone kicked her in the stomach.
Krista approaches, hugging everyone in the group—including my husband—and Bethany only looks more upset when Krista backs away.
“I’m going to go welcome her and offer her some food.
” I pat Becky on the arm and wander to the tense group, discomfort radiating from them.
“Hey, everyone. How’s it going?” Instead of attaching myself to Trevor’s side, I align myself with his sister.
Before anyone can answer, I turn to Krista.
“Hello, again! I couldn’t help but notice you came after our main course was put away.
How about I go and grab you some brisket and pork?
” Krista shakes her head, but I interrupt.
“Bethany, why don’t you come with me, and you can point out what you think your dear friend would like? ”
Bethany takes a second before meeting my eyes. Her normally vibrant blues are dull in the low lights of my backyard, but it’s more than that. She looks shattered—like the smallest pressure could make her fall to pieces. She holds my gaze briefly and gives a tiny nod in response.
I grab her arm and walk her back to the house, ignoring my husband’s silence and anything else the group says. “Are you okay?”
Bethany doesn’t answer at first, then finally shrugs her shoulders. “I will be.”
Krista did eat some of the meat I brought back outside, but the boys made quick work of the rest. I was able to get Bethany in the company of Carter and Becky, and they seemed to slightly lift her from the melancholy that was weighing her down.
By the time another hour passed, I was on another countless rotation through the party, checking drinks, comfort levels, and general satisfaction for the night.
I lose track of time while I talk to Ms. Tyson.
She’s a terrifying but lovely woman who has all kinds of stories about Trevor growing up.
She hands me a lemon head and pats my hand.
“It helped me when I was younger and had some stomach issues.” When I ran off to vomit for the fifth time that day, she watched me go with a knowing look on her lined face.
I don’t know how she knows, but that woman knows.
When the summer light starts to dim, my excitement spikes, and energy is restored.
I check my watch and shimmy when I realize I have ten minutes before the show begins.
The test is still in my pocket, and I’m itching to shove it in my husband’s face, explain why I’ve been so tired, and get everything back on track.
My phone died about an hour ago, so I plugged it in to charge.
Maybe I should grab it for pictures? Catch my big, bad husband crying with joy?
A few people have already left, which is fine with me.
Becky and Carter are wandering over to the guests to let them know it’s time to settle in for the fireworks.
I scan the crowd to see if Trevor is looking for me, but I don’t see him.
It’s fine. Check the house. I have time.
I do a more thorough scan just to confirm that he really is not out here.
With only five minutes to spare, I rush inside to see if I can find him.
“Trevor. Honey! The fireworks are starting soon!” I run through the living room to our bedroom, our bathroom, then back into the living room.
“Trevor?” There’s no sound. I jog upstairs, only to find a soundly sleeping Jacob. He’s such an early bird.
Running out of time and options, I find my phone and decide to call the man.
I grab it from its charger and race to the living room, where I can see out the window to the field beyond.
“Trevor?” Still no response. My stomach starts to drop when the first flashes of fireworks light the room, but there’s still time.
They last almost thirty minutes. When the sound echoes in my empty home, followed by the appreciative murmurs of our guests, I pull up Trevor’s contact, but before I hit call, one unread message notification from thirty minutes ago pops up.
My hand shakes when I click it, dread and disappointment hitting before I finish reading.
Unknown
Don’t worry. I’ll look out for him.
The picture is taken from the side, Krista’s hand on Trevor’s shoulder in the front seat of his car. He is smiling while his eyes remain focused on the road in front of him.
I drop the phone to the floor and stare at it, blinking my moisture-filled eyes.
He left me. Another round of fireworks light up the sky, as I pull out my pregnancy test. The results of years of trying.
It’s worth a celebration—a new beginning.
The emptiness of my home closes in around me.
Clapping and cheering filter in from my yard as people enjoy the amazing show my neighbors are putting on.
He didn’t even come find me. He didn’t say goodbye.
This was supposed to be the celebration of a new beginning, but instead, it’s me, sitting alone with a silly piece of plastic and a dismissive text message from my husband using another woman’s phone.
He left me, and he left with her.