I stand defiantly after zipping up the suitcases and look directly into his blue eyes, only they don’t look sky-blue like they usually do, right now they’re cloudy.
“Away from here.”
“But… we need to talk about this,” he deadpans, watching me walk out of the bedroom and down the stairs with the first suitcase.
I place it by the front door and walk back up the stairs to get the second. “I can’t talk to you right now, Gerry. I can hardly even look at you.”
“That’s it, is it? Our whole relationship is being thrown out the window over a stupid mistake?”
I stop and spin around to face him as I walk past with the second suitcase. “Buying decaf coffee instead of regular is a mistake. Miscounting the change in your pocket is a mistake. This? This is betrayal, complete and utter betrayal, there's no ifs or buts about it.” My eyes flit between his, trying to see a single bit of remorse, but finding none as I deliver my last blow. “I tried to make it work, I wanted to move past all of our problems, but I won't do it anymore. This was the icing on the cake; you fucked up for the last time.”
Walking down the stairs with the second suitcase, I hear him call my name but I don’t turn back, not wanting to see him. He calls my name again not once, but three times, each time sounding angrier than the last. So I flip him off over my shoulder, feeling a sense of urgency to get out of here and to my friend’s house.
It’s nearly been a week since Gerry admitted he’d been cheating on me. I’ve spent this time thinking a lot about what I want to do. I love my job, but I’ve made the hard decision to return home to my mom so I handed my notice into my boss. She was sad that I’m leaving, but I need to get away from here and start fresh.
As the days have gone by, my head’s clearing and I’m finally seeing things for what they really were all along. He’d been treating me like this for years but I was too blind, not able to see it.
With no job and not wanting to outstay my welcome at my friend, Heather’s, I say my goodbye’s and drive over to my old house. It’s time I got the rest of my things and cut all ties with Gerry, but as I stand here staring at the house that I once called home, I can’t bring myself to walk in there.
I wish he wasn’t here while I packed up, but I know he’s inside because I saw him walk past the kitchen window not too long ago.
I blow out an audible breath, painting a smile on my face as I walk up the driveway. This needs to be done so I can move on with my life.
My hand hesitates on the door handle; do I knock? I decide that I should since it’s no longer my home. Lifting a shaky hand, I rap on the white wooden surface three times and wait. It’s not long before I hear footsteps padding toward me before the door opens and I’m faced with a laughing Gerry.
As soon as he sees it’s me, the smile he’s wearing drops from his face and a frown replaces it. “Harmony, you should have called.”
My brow pulls down into a frown and I fold my arms over my chest. “Last time I checked, you were the one in the wrong here, so don’t dictate when I can show up to my own home. I’m going to get the rest of my things and I’ll be out of here before you know it.” My gaze roams down his body; he’s not wearing a shirt so I quickly tear my eyes away from him, not wanting him to see me gawking. “So… can I come in?” God this is awkward.
He clears his throat as his hand scrubs at the back of his neck before he opens the door wider, inviting me in. “I boxed up all of your art supplies that were in the hallway closet, your cushions and canvases too. The only thing I didn’t touch were the drawers full of your lotions and potions, and the rest of your clothes and shoes.” He points to three full boxes. “I... I can load your car with these boxes while you pack, if you want?”
I don’t know what to say, I never thought this would be us; talking about packing up and moving my stuff out of our marital home and into my car like we’re talking about the weather. But he’s a stranger to me now, long gone is the sweet man that I married.
“Erm, sure, thanks.” I place my car keys in his outstretched hand and point to an empty box that is leaned up against the wall. “Can I use that?”
He nods, so I pick it up and walk up the stairs and into the bathroom, emptying my side of the built-in drawers and moving onto the measly amount of clothes and shoes that I left behind.
I’m placing one of my favorite scarves into the box when he appears in the doorway to what was our bedroom, leaning against the doorframe.
“Here, I’ll carry that down for you,” he offers, stepping forward and picking up the box.
“Thanks,” I mutter and frown as he walks out with the box; he’s almost being too nice. Looking around the room, it seems I’ve got everything of importance, so I guess this is it—apart from the grueling process of divorce and the long drive back to Mom’s.
I’m about to follow him out the front door and to my car when I hear a girly giggle coming from inside the house so I spin around, trying to find the source.
“Harmony, wait!” Gerry shouts after me, but I’m already on the move, storming into the kitchen and finding a scantily clad brunette who can’t be much older than twenty perched at the table.
She’s wearing one of Gerry’s white shirts, her lacey bra peeking out of the top, but that’s all she seems to be wearing. Her eyes widen at the sight of me and dart around, looking for a getaway without coming into contact with me.
My blood boils and I walk over to her, ripping the stupid, pink cellphone out of her hand and throwing it across the room. I hear it crack against one of the walls but I’m past the point of being angry to care.
I corner her in and point in her flushed face. “You homewrecker!”
“I—”
“I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses! How could you do that to someone? Did you not see the wedding ring on his finger?”
“Gerry!” she shouts, stumbling as she tries to stand up.
I match her movements until I’m pulled back into a familiar body, feeling his hot, bare skin against my back as he restrains me so I don’t do anything stupid.
“Get off me!” I shout, wriggling out of his arms and looking at them both, standing there with their mouths hanging open. “I hope you’re very happy together. Although, I don’t know how you’ll ever be able trust him. Once a cheater, always a cheater, right?”
“Harm—”
I silence him with my hand and shake my head. “I’ll be calling an attorney when I get to my mom’s, I’ll contact you through them. I was trying to be the bigger person by coming here today and being civil.” My fists clench as I look between him and his whore. “But you obviously couldn’t wait for me to be gone.”
I take one last look at them, conveying all of my hatred in the stares I leave them with before turning and walking out of the front door.
I hear footsteps race behind me so I speed up my walk until I’m at my car.
“Harmony!” Gerry shouts as I’m about to open the door. I fight myself to get in and drive away, but old habits die hard. I look back at him, seeing the remorse on his face for the first time since I found out he’d cheated on me. “I’m sorry, I...” He wipes a hand down his face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
Normally I would have walked back up to him and told him that it was fine, that what happened doesn’t matter, but it’s not fine, and it does matter. His woe is me act won’t work on me anymore.
“Well at least we agree on something; I never wanted you to hurt me either. Go fuck yourself, Gerry, or your whore. Either way, you’re not my problem anymore.”
I drop into the driver's seat of my car, angry tears running down my face, but I know the enormity of the situation hasn’t hit me yet. It will, but for now I’m going to try and keep my head above water and concentrate on rebuilding my life.
My muscles tense at the thought of going it alone. Being alone frightens me more than anything, but I’ll do this, I have to.
Imagine Dragons—Radioactive
R
elient K—Don’t blink
Life is full of pivotal moments, moments that can change your life forever. Veering it off the track that you were on and destroying the plan that you had mapped out for yourself, the one you thought you were destined to follow.
I always thought I had control over everything that I did and over what my life would turn out to be.
I was wrong.
When I went to college at eighteen-years-old, I thought I’d regained my freedom. Freedom from the life I had been brought up in: the dinners, the balls, the pretentious, fake lives of everyone around me. I was never interested in that though. I wanted to be me: I wanted to play baseball and hang out with the “normal” kids who lived on the other side of town.
Only the “normal” kids weren’t the kind of kids that my parents allowed me to hang out with. I was supposed to be friends with the people from my side of town; the side that was full of mansions, sports cars, and fake people who did nothing but gossip about each other.
I may have had friends for appearances on my side, but my true friends were on the other side of the tunnel that separated the two halves of the town. I preferred to be around the people who lived in the normal-sized houses, who cared more about their families and friendships than their reputation.
I managed to sneak out and hang out with them for a while, keeping it a secret from my parents thanks to my driver, Edward. He’d driven me everywhere since I was four years old and he still does, even twenty-eight years later.
He was, and always has been more of a dad than my biological one. He would ask me how my day was when I finished school, he knew all my friends’ names—both the real ones and the ones I kept for appearances. He never told my parents anything, he knew how to keep a secret, something which made me trust in him fully.
Looking back now, I can remember the one pivotal moment that could have changed it all. My life would have been so different, and although I sometimes wish that I would have walked away from it all—from the money, from my parents—I know deep down that I wouldn’t change a thing.
I hated the lifestyle and the people in it for so long after I was given the ultimatum; I hated anyone who reminded me of the decision I had made. But most of all, I hated him.
I used to think that money gave you freedom, that it allowed you to do anything you wanted, but I was wrong. So, so wrong.
It trapped me. Trapped me in a job that I never wanted: the family company I’ve been running for the last nine years. I never had any interest in software, let alone becoming the CEO of a software company. But again, I had no choice in the matter.
What goes around, comes around. I never used to believe in karma, but I do now because my father got his just deserts when he was kicked out of the company he had built himself from the age of eighteen and sent to prison for nine years.
What I really wanted to do was work with numbers. They were my thing. I loved the definite answer that a number gives you. There’s no in between with them, the answer is either right or wrong; there’s no gray area, it’s either black or white.
But I soon learned that being the CEO of a company meant that I could be a part of something bigger and do whatever I wanted. If I wanted to play with numbers in the software department, then that’s what I did. If I wanted to sit behind my desk all day and be in meetings, then that is what I did.
The first few years of running the company wasn’t smooth sailing, I had a lot of trust to build thanks to my father. Being CEO of Carter Enterprises grew on me, I started to enjoy coming to work. Then it all changed. Work no longer became work, but a place to hide away from the tragedy that happened nearly six years ago.
It’s all my fault.
I’ve changed many things in the company over the last few years. It’s no longer somewhere where I can put my stamp on things, it’s a place that I can be the me that I’ve become. The cold, distant person; the one I prefer.
My mind whirls with all these thoughts and memories as I watch the buildings go by through the car window, my elbow braced on the door rest and my pointer finger rubbing aimlessly along my bottom lip.
I should be taking a business call or doing my last bit of work on the forty-five minute drive home from the city, but I don’t. Instead I gaze out of the window and imagine what my life could have been like had I taken a different path all those years ago. I could have been one of those people fighting through the crowds on the sidewalk as they all rush out of work early on a Friday night, vying for a clear path to walk as they run for the subway. They may look rushed, but at least they’re free.
Instead, I’m stuck in this obnoxious town car with one of the only people in my life that I trust sitting behind the wheel.
The city passes by in a blur of people and tall buildings and we’re soon heading toward home, but to get there we have to pass through what my father calls, “the poor area.” The place where I’ve always felt more at home than my actual home.
I haven’t walked on this side of town for ten years and even after all this time, I still can’t bear to look out of the windows as we pass through. I look down at my dark gray suit pants, dusting a piece of invisible lint off them to distract myself.
“Tristan?”
I startle at Edward’s voice coming from the front of the car and bring my eyes up to the rearview mirror, meeting his chocolate brown ones.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Yes?”
“I was wondering if you wanted me to take Miss Isabel to her dance rehearsal for her recital?”
I frown at him and clench my teeth, my hands balling into fists. Why didn’t I know about this? I feel like I’m always the last to know anything when it comes to my kids and I hate it. I hate how I threw myself into my work so much after Izzie was born, so much so that I now don’t even know when she has a simple rehearsal.
As much as I despise missing out and feeling like a failure, I can’t help immersing myself in work to drown out the pain that rolls around inside of me.
I should be there for them more, I should have kept my promise.
“When did you say it was?” I ask, breathing in deeply to try and tamp down the rage that burns inside of my chest like an inferno.
When did I become this person that lets the days slip by like nothing matters?
“It’s, erm…” I watch as Edward visibly swallows and moves his eyes from mine, focusing on the road in front of him. That’s a recent thing; the nervousness when he’s around me. “It’s at six.”
I stretch my arm out, causing the sleeve of my suit jacket and shirt to ride up, allowing me to see the silver Rolex that sits snuggly on my wrist. The white dial shines at me brightly, the silver hands pointing at the numbers telling me that it’s only forty-five minutes away.
“Okay, how far out are we? It’s fifteen after five now.”
“About ten minutes, Tristan.”
I nod and look back out of the window, my reflection staring back at me as we go through the tunnel.
“I’ll take her,” I finally grit out.
“Got it,” Edward replies, nodding his head for added effect.
Pulling my cell out, I check for any messages or emails, trying to distract myself against the raging thoughts in my head. But it doesn’t work.
All I can think of is that if Natalia were here, she would have known every single rehearsal time and date, she would have made sure I knew too. She would have taken Clay and Izzie to all of their after school clubs, loving every minute of it. She would have been that mom: the one that was there no matter what. The one that is on the PTA and always goes into the school to volunteer. She would have been the one that all of the kids wished were their mom.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to see her face but it’s no use, my mind automatically goes back to that day, the one where she left us. Her soft, sad smile stares back at me; her dark blue eyes filled with both love and fear.
I throw my cell across the back seat, narrowing my eyes at it when it smacks off the door and lands o
n the floor. My breaths come faster, my hands clenching to the point of pain.
This isn’t how it was meant to be, we should have been a family. I shouldn’t be trying and failing as a single parent.
“Daddy!” Izzie squeals as I walk through the front door to our house, jumping down off the bench in the grand entrance and throwing her arms around my legs, squeezing me as tight as her little arms can muster.
It takes me several seconds to get myself together as I try to push all of my thoughts to the back of my mind. Shaking my head, I look down at her, my lips widening into a smile as I bend down, picking her up and holding her against my chest as I pepper kisses all over her face.
“You taking me today?” she asks in her sweet, little voice.
I feel all of the anger start to wane at her being in my arms, peace slowly replacing it.
“I sure am, pumpkin,” I tell her enthusiastically, pulling back and placing her on the floor. She spins around, her blond ponytail swinging like the pendulum of a grandfather clock as she skips back to the bench and shoulders her light-purple bag.
“Clay! We going now! Hurry up!” she shouts up the stairs, making me wince with how it echoes in the vast empty space.
Several seconds later we hear thumping and then his voice. “I’m coming! Jeez,” he grunts, stomping down the stairs, his attention on the book he’s holding instead of where he’s walking.
“Clayton! Look where you’re going,” I admonish. He looks up at me, his gray eyes narrowing as he sticks his tongue out at me. I shake my head and look away, not able to stop the grin lifting the sides of my lips.
As the parent, you’re not meant to find things like that funny—at least, that’s what everyone tells you, but I can’t stop myself from chuckling then coughing to try to cover it up. It doesn’t work though because I know he heard me.
“Do I have to go?” he groans when he gets to the bottom of the stairs, flopping his arms about in the air.
I straighten my back, trying to be the authoritative figure that I need to be, but it somehow doesn’t work with Clay and Izzie. When it’s just us three, I’m the Tristan that I used to be, but as soon as they’re not around, I’m a different person; the one I’ve had to become. “Yes, now hurry up otherwise we’re going to be late.”
Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1) Page 2