Don’s gaze took my appearance in. His eyes showed worry. “You look like you’ve seen better days.”
“I’ve been getting a lot of that lately.” I tried my hand at smirking. “I should get going, it’s nice seeing you both. Take care.”
I should have known that Don wouldn’t let me make my escape in a quick and painless fashion. He rarely did these days.
He followed me to my car. “We have some things of Candace’s that she’d want you to have, Ben.”
I took a deep breath and paused with my hand on the door before turning to face the man. “Not now, Don.”
“You know, there was a day when you used to call me Dad.”
I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I-I can’t. Not anymore.”
In a rush to get out of there before he said something else, I opened the car door and paused to look back at the man that had been as much of a father to me as my own.
“It’s been three years. You need to stop blaming yourself, Ben. No one else does.”
That was it.
I got in my car without acknowledging his words, started it, and peeled out of there.
Chapter 7
I called my bar manager, Derek, on the drive home, and told him that I needed him to look after Fairfax for the day.
I walked out of the shower stall, my towel hanging around my waist. The good thing about daytime was the fact that I was able to sleep whenever the opportunity presented itself. I shed my towel and crawled naked under the sheets.
A smorgasbord of thoughts ran through my head as I settled onto my back.
Candace.
Hannah.
Hannah some more.
Then, back to Candace.
The more I thought about my wife, however, the more my mind flittered back to thoughts of Hannah. Knowing her pain, I worried about what she was about to go through. It wasn’t going to be an easy journey. Hell, after three years I was still struggling.
I woke with a start.
Those piercing green eyes had been there, pleading with me.
If one thing was for sure, that dream had me resolving that I needed to abide by my word and stay at Hannah’s side.
At least until she wakes up and tells you to get lost, Carpenter.
I got up, headed to the bathroom, and splashed some cold water on my face. Staring back at my reflection, I took in my light brown hair laying in all sorts of directions, the dark circles under my eyes, and my pale complexion. My stomach rumbled, and that’s when I realized that it was nearing dinnertime and I hadn’t eaten anything since the night before at Mike and Nicole’s reception.
Grabbing a quick bite after dressing in jeans and a t-shirt, I headed out the door. Before I could take my first step, however, my foot ran into a box, nearly sending me tumbling down the front steps.
One look at the brown cardboard and there was no question as to what it held.
I don’t need this right now!
Bending over, I picked the box up, turned to drop my keys on the small table by the front door, after kicking it shut, and set the load down on the coffee table in my living room. Staring at it, I backed away from the cardboard container as if it might contain a communicable disease of some sort.
I knew what I would face if I lifted that lid, and I was terrified that the hell I had been living these past few years would worsen to an unbearable level if I did just that. Fighting through my weariness, I sat down and made to peek inside.
In that box, I found notebooks – five of them, to be exact. They matched others I had found around the house after Candace’s death. Why they hadn’t been kept here, I don’t know. Upon opening them, I found Candace’s neat scripture.
“I love that man…” This made me smile.
“He’s asked me to be his finally…” This made me remember.
“Chris is…”
Hold on!
I re-read the last few words of the passage I was scanning.
My heart began to pound. My eyes bulged at what I read – twice!
That’s when I realized that this was a whole new set of journals. Journals I was never meant to see. Journals written by a woman, that up until moments ago, I thought loved me.
No, it’s not possible.
But then, masochistic curiosity struck, despite my wanting to deny what I had just read. My eyes flittered to the top of the page where I knew I’d most likely find a date.
My heart sunk.
The book dropped to the floor.
Chris.
That name had come up before.
And then something clicked.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I bolted to my feet and flung the box and sent its remaining contents crashing to the floor.
Glass shattered, but then again, so did more of my heart.
Anger simmered at a low boil, my temper barely in check, but I hadn’t finished sorting through the items, and now I had a mess to clean, forcing me to do just that.
Crouching down, I turned the box up and peered inside. In it, there was a glass figurine. I remembered it. Candace had it since college. She’d kept it in her office.
That’s when I realized that this stuff must have come from work.
As I lifted some folder from the box, something slipped out of it and landed at my feet. I bent down to pick it up.
A photograph with the following caption:
One year and I love you more everyday.
Love,
Candy
I flipped the photograph over and there he was in Technicolor. Chris.
The ex who had given her the figurine.
A man I’d invited over for dinner, along with his wife – a man I had shaken hands with on numerous occasions.
Candace’s boss – no – lover.
My hands shook with rage, my fingers releasing the piece of paper as if it had singed me.
I looked down at the notebooks, and then at the fallen photograph. Dropping the file folder on the table, I backed away.
The air around me was getting too thick, my lungs felt like they were closing up.
I need to get out of here.
Grabbing my keys, I locked the front door, jumped in my car, and headed for…well, I’m not sure where I was headed, but far away from home sounded pretty damn good right about then!
Chapter 8
I pounded on that door so hard my hand felt as if it would be bruised from my efforts.
“What the hell is your problem? I’ve got-” Danica’s face went from furious to concerned in a nanosecond. “Ben, what’s going on?”
“I-I don’t… I didn’t…” I couldn’t find the words to explain myself for coming to her, but she was the only one I could think of with Mike being off on his honeymoon.
Danica grabbed my wrist, pulled me in, and closed the front door before ushering me toward the kitchen.
She made me sit down and went to the fridge to get me a bottle of water.
I’m not a man who drinks to excess, but I sure as hell could have done with more than aqua right then.
“Ben, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“She cheated,” I choked out.
“Who?”
“Candace.”
“What?”
I snorted. “My thoughts exactly.”
“With who?”
I ran a hand down my face, swallowing the taste of bile in my mouth. “Her boss.”
“What?”
My head bobbed up and down, my gaze failing to meet hers.
Jake entered the kitchen. “Hey, man, you look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
Jake looked between his wife and I. “Something’s wrong, I can smell it.” He crossed his arms. “Why do I feel like something big just happened?”
I looked at Jake, then met Danica’s eyes. The room remained silent for a moment until I gave her the nod that granted permission for her to inform her husband. Jake looked at me with shock strewn across his face as he received the news
.
Shock was only the icing on the cake for me. Beneath that layer was one of betrayal, and another of worthlessness. Oh, and let’s not forget the embarrassment, too. It was like I had married a stranger, like I had loved someone I had never known.
It had all been a lie.
Was Karen even mine?
A new wave of fury built with that lingering question.
I got up to leave without a word.
“Where’re you going?” Danica asked.
“I think I’ll find my answers if I sit down and read those journals.”
“Are you sure that’s smart?” Jake asked.
“I think it’s time that I get past all of this, don’t you?” I eyed them both, far from enthused at my surely self-imposed torture. “I can’t…” I sighed. “I can’t believe I’ve been stuck like this for so long and all of it was a lie.”
“Not all of it, Ben.” Danica walked up to me and grabbed my hands. “That beautiful baby girl you had. You know that Karen was yours even if she wasn’t. The love you had for both of them was real too.”
My chortle lacked any humor. “It clearly didn’t mean much to her.”
“Promise me that if you need anything, you’ll call.” I gave her a curt nod. “But I think you’re right. You should read those journals.”
Chapter 9
After stopping by the house to grab everything I needed, I walked into the hospital as if I belonged there.
I had a plan.
One that would spare me a few grey hairs from the stress I was under, some bald spots from the anger that simmered, and an aneurism from the shock factor that was bound to make my blood pressure rise until something burst.
Again, just like last night, no one made to stop me from entering Hannah’s room. Aside from my home – which didn’t feel like much of a peaceful place right now – this was it.
I felt nervous, worried even.
Hannah lay connected to a variety of machines. Some of her color had returned even though she was still unconscious.
I approached her bedside, careful not to make too much noise as if I’d wake her.
The bruising was more pronounced as I took in the sight of her arms, shoulders, and the bit of bare skin on her chest and neck. Her face, aside from a slight scratch on her left cheek, was intact, perfect even.
My hand reached out to touch the side of her face. When I realized what I was doing, I snapped it back. I had no right. Instead, I took the seat by her bed.
For a few minutes I sat there watching over her in silence. And felt like a total idiot while doing it, too.
I wanted to talk to someone for the first time in years and I mean really talk. Bare it all, as they say. It baffled me that the one person I wanted to talk to was a stranger who’d thrust herself into my life in the most unconventional of ways. Someone who couldn’t talk back, someone I wasn’t sure that could even hear what I was about to tell her.
“Hi Hannah, it’s Ben,” I said. “You look better.” You look better? “If you can hear me at all, I bet you’re wondering why I came back, huh?” Despite feeling ridiculous, I never made to leave. “I know I said that I’d stay, but you probably figured that with your parents around that I’d be long gone by now.”
Something told me that if she were like every other woman I probably would have been. But she wasn’t. Don’t ask me how I knew it, I just did.
“I-I don’t know what to do with myself anymore, but I do have a story to share with you.”
I went on, telling Hannah about my wife and daughter. Our wedding. Our life together. The day I found out I was going to be a father. How much I love them both, despite the boiling anger in my gut where Candace’s betrayal was concerned. And then I talked about that awful night where I lost everything, but my very own existence.
The more I spoke, the more the weirdness of speaking to a comatose person faded. If anything, it felt right. Like somehow, in the recesses of her mind, Hannah was indeed listening, processing and supporting me with no judgement.
I didn’t stop myself for grabbing the tips of her fingers in my hand this time. “I know what you’ll be going through, once you wake up.” I cleared my throat. “Hannah, I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything to save Lee. You two should be together right now, enjoying life, making babies, laughing. Maybe if I’d stopped when I first saw you… I should have.” I sighed.
“There’s more.” I took in a preparatory breath. “When I left here this morning, I went to visit Candace’s and Karen’s graves. Her parents were there. They’ve been pushing for me to stop blaming myself for what happened that night and move on for years now.” That’s when my hand took hers completely and squeezed it. “I ran away, Hannah. I ran from them like a coward.
“They’ve been trying to get me to talk to them. They had some things of Candy’s to give me.” I paused to get my thoughts together. “You see, not too long after she passed, I found journals of hers while I packed up her stuff. Today, her parents left another box of her things on my front doorstep.” I squeezed her hand again. “This is hard to say.” My voice had grown hoarse.
“You know when you think life is perfect? Well, I’m not claiming that Candace and I didn’t have our share of issues, but I thought that we were happy.” I sighed. “I never thought…”
For the first time, I felt the tears come, and I let them fall unchecked.
“It was all a lie, Hannah. Everything was. I’m not sure why I’m telling you any of this. Maybe it’s because I know you’ll listen, since I’ve heard that talking to someone in your state can help bring you out of it. Personally, I think it’s because coma patients just get sick of hearing the same people over and over again so they wake up to tell them to shut up.” I chuckled, wiping the few stray tears on my cheeks with the back of my free hand. “The truth is that somehow this is where I feel most comfortable at the moment.
“I’ve spent the last three years grieving for a woman who was my whole life only to find out that I was never hers. Not if these journals I brought with me today are anything to go by.” I ran my hand through my hair and bowed my head to stare at the leather-bound notebooks on my lap. “I know I need to read them to really know what was in her heart, but I can’t do it at home.” On a long exhale, I continued. “Honestly, I’m not sure I can read them at all, but being here makes me feel like I might be able to.”
With that, I opened the first one and began to read aloud. Call me crazy, but it felt odd yet right to share something so private with Hannah.
I managed to read the first two entries. They dated back to right before I’d proposed to Candace. After those, I wasn’t sure if I could go on with my reading, nausea making my gut churn.
I closed the book, put it on Hannah’s bedside table and leaned forward on my knees, running my hands over my face.
“I wish I knew what you were thinking right about now,” I said. “You know what’s surprising? That despite the anger, all of this actually makes me feel better. Finding out that my wife loved another man makes it easier, Hannah. How can that be?”
“Because you’re angry,” I heard, making me turn, eyes wide that I had been discovered.
Chapter 10
“Anger can help you move on, sweetheart.”
“Mrs. Donner.” Mr. Donner walked in behind her. “Sir.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Her voice was soft, compassionate. “It explains why you hesitated last night.” I nodded. “I’m glad you came back.”
“How’s our girl doing?” Mr. Donner asked.
I spent the next few hours sitting in Hannah’s hospital room, talking with her parents. I was glad that they hadn’t asked much about Candace, especially after they’d overheard some of what I had told their daughter.
There was an odd chemistry between the three of us that had me feeling comfortable, despite us having only met less than twenty-four hours before. The conversation flowed. It was almost as though we had known each other for years.
Anne and
Adam Donner were wonderful people. They loved their daughter without reservation. I found myself wishing that I had the same support from my parents after my loss.
You did.
Instead of accepting their help though, I had pushed everyone aside, friends and family alike.
Through most of my life, my problems had always been my own. The pity and sympathy that rolled off of friends and loved ones in waves made me run from them.
When everyone seemed to back away and give up, Mike was the only one who hadn’t. The man had never pitied me. Instead, he chose to be there, helping me pick up the pieces and lend a listening ear.
My parents had done the same at first, but I guess they never quite had as much resolve as my best friend did.
I’ve kept in touch with Mom and Dad, but nothing had ever been the same since. There existed a chasm between us now, where before I used to be able to go to them and talk about anything. I knew my distance broke my mother’s heart, leaving my father to put her back together when my appearances at family gatherings were always so short-lived. But I didn’t know how to cope, despite my trying.
I was a crap son.
Guilt rode me for that, too.
“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” Anne finally asked after I told them about my family situation.
I held her eyes. “That’s an understatement.”
“You have time to make things right. Things are never perfect, Ben,” she said. “Hannah would agree.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anne?” Adam said.
“I think it’s time we all came to terms, Adam.” Her gaze came to me quickly before heading for her husband and locking. “Lee might have been the son we never had, but the man was far from perfect.”
I was confused. What were they getting at? “I’m not sure if you should be telling me this.” Despite disliking gossip, I felt intrigued by the information and couldn’t help wanting to hear more.
“Nonsense,” Anne said and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lee was no angel.”
To Forgive & Hold Safe (The Broken Men Chronicles Book 4) Page 3