by Heather Lyn
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you put this on me, Nacole. Don’t. I mean, what are you gonna tell me next? That you’re married or something?”
“I… I wanted to tell you, Garret. I’m so sorry.”
My license falls from his fingertips and the hurt on his face deepens. “You’re fucking married? Please tell me you’re joking.”
I shake my head and he turns away.
“Fuck!” he bellows, slamming his hand against the doorway, the wood rattling beneath his anger.
I close my eyes against his movements, his unexpected reaction scaring me. I know he would never touch me in anger, but right now he’s madder than I ever imagined he would be.
“I’m so sorry,” I sob, dropping to my knees in the middle of all my stuff.
“You’re sorry? I just slept with a married woman, the same woman I’ve been fucking falling in love with, and you’re sorry? I can’t even look at you.”
He storms from the room and I drop my head to my chest, crying harder than before. He comes back into the room a second later, fully dressed.
“Garret, you promised. Please.”
“Yeah, that went out the window the second you fucking lied to me. You lied, Nacole. And you broke us in the process. I hope it was worth it.”
He storms out the front door, his Jeep starting up a minute later before he goes roaring down his driveway. Left alone, I stand on shaky legs and gather all my stuff. Rushing upstairs, I grab everything I brought and run down the stairs, snatching my purse on the way. I drive home with blurry vision, the tears nonstop.
When I get home, I run inside and slam the door shut behind me. Dropping onto my couch, I curl up and cry, nothing hurting more than my heart. The way he looked at me, the hurt on his face. He’ll never forgive me.
An hour or so later, I’ve finally calmed down, standing in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of tea. Garret hates me, and I don’t blame him. But I can’t let him think I’m just some cheating whore who ripped out his heart. No, he needs to know the truth.
Placing the streaming cup of tea down, I head into my bedroom closet and grab the cardboard box sitting inside, the contents the most painful moments of my past. Carrying it into the living room, I place it on my coffee table and go in search of a notebook. Finding one in the kitchen drawer, I write Garret a letter. The most honest letter I’ve ever written.
Taping the note to the top, I slip my feet into a pair of sandals and drive back to Garret’s house, praying he isn’t there, and praying I don’t crash my car. My hands are shaking, and my eyes burn with unshed tears. Even if I’ve lost him forever, at least he’ll know the truth.
He deserves that much. Even if I no longer deserve him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Garret
Pulling into my driveway, I let out a deep sigh, parking my Jeep in front of my garage. Climbing out, I head inside, mind still racing from earlier. It only took us a few hours to get the paperwork straightened, but I barely paid any attention. I can’t decide if I want to just go to bed or drink Nacole out of my thoughts. I mean Sadie. Or maybe it is Nacole. Who fucking knows?
I can’t believe I was so blind to her deceit. But as angry as I am, I think the real problem is I hate admitting how badly it hurts, knowing she lied to me.
Knowing we’re done.
I wasn’t exactly expecting to fall in love with her, but my stupid ass went and did just that. Locking the Jeep, I step onto my porch, a brown box sitting on one of the chairs catching my eye. Grabbing it, I find a white piece of paper taped to the top. Shoving it under my arm, I unlock my front door and carry it inside with me.
Kicking the front door shut behind me, I take the box into my dining room, dropping it on top of the table and heading back into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Popping the top, I take a pull and drag the box toward me, ripping the piece of paper off it. My name is scrawled across it. Unfolding it, I start reading, knees going weak as I drop into a chair.
Garret,
I have no idea how to say any of this to you, but I need to try, because I owe you that much at least. Please know how badly I wanted to tell you. Every day, I tried to find the strength, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t want you to look at me in shame or pity. That would've killed me. When I left California, it was to find myself. To find safety. And while I did, I also found you. You have no idea how thankful I will always be for you. Before I met you, Garret, I didn’t have any reason to smile or laugh, but because of you, I can. You brought me back to life, and you saved me in ways you’ll never understand.
I’m so sorry for lying to you, but even more than that, I’m sorry I hurt you.
I never meant for any of this to happen. But the one thing I’m not sorry about is you. I didn’t plan it, but I’m not sorry it happened. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I want nothing more than for you to be happy. And when you do, I hope you find someone who deserves you. Because I certainly don’t. Not after the things I’ve done.
Be happy, Garret. That’s all I want.
Love always,
Sadie
Hands shaking, I toss the paper onto my table, beer forgotten. Carefully, I pull the top of the box off and find papers and photographs. Lifting the first piece of paper, I see the same handwriting scattered across the lines.
January 13th
Mom has been gone a week. My heart feels like it’s broken into pieces. Graham doesn’t care. His dinner wasn’t done when he walked in the door.
He slapped me twice.
Left a bruise on my cheek. Split lip.
Eyes wide in shock, I notice the photograph under where the paper was. A close-up photo of her face, the purple mark on her cheek, the bleeding cut on her lip.
Holy. Fuck.
Setting them on the table, I reach for the next piece of paper. This time the photo is stapled to the paper at the bottom.
January 18th
I woke up to Graham stumbling home drunk at two in the morning. When I asked him where he’d been, he backhanded me, then told me to make him something to eat. While I was walking downstairs, he told me I wasn’t moving fast enough and kicked my feet out from under me.
At three o'clock, I went to the ER for pain meds. Told them I tripped.
Stitches on my jaw. Black eye. Sprained wrist. Sore back.
Came home, and when I told him where I’d been, he laughed at me.
Laughed.
The photo attached has me fighting the urge to vomit. My hand shakes as I hold it up in front of me. My beautiful girl, tearstained and black and blue. I start to reach for the next item in the box, but I can’t bring myself to read or look at any more.
Standing from the table, I pace, running a hand over my hair, gripping it tightly to the point of pain. Gritting my teeth, I walk in circles, trying to wrap my mind around this whole thing. But I can’t.
Who the fuck would treat someone that way?
“Fuck.”
Moving back over to the box, I pull the next piece of paper out. She wanted me to know everything, so as hard as this is, I respect her wishes.
January 31st.
Black eye. Bruises around my throat.
Why? For existing.
I hate my husband with everything in me.
Maybe one day he’ll actually kill me. Then the hell I live in will be over and he can’t hurt me anymore. Maybe one day.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until the tear falls onto the paper. Letting out a broken sob, I drop the paper and reach for the beer bottle, still full. Hurling it with all my strength, it hits the wall with a loud crash, glass and beer flying everywhere. Dropping down into the chair, I hang my head.
Images of her fly through my mind, crying and running, terrified of this man. My heart breaks imagining how scared she must've been all the time. To have written that she wanted to just die. I can’t take it.
Then I realize how I acted earlier. I remember the fear in her eyes after I smashed the doorframe, when I shouted a
t her for lying to me.
I don’t even care about that anymore.
Without a second thought, I run out of my house, heading for my Jeep. Jumping inside, I drive blindly to Sadie, tears still blurring my vision.
“Son of a bitch!” I yell, smashing my fist against the steering wheel.
How dare that piece of shit abuse her! He was her husband, for fuck’s sake. His job was to protect her.
I'm going between being completely fucking livid with that animal and devastated for her. I don’t give a shit if I have to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. I just need to get her in my arms, where she’s safe.
The normally fifteen-minute drive takes less than ten, and I let out a sigh of relief when I see her car parked in the driveway.
Leaving the engine running, I stumble from my vehicle and race for her front door. I’m only halfway there when she comes walking outside, a black bag in her hands, eyes red and swollen. She stops when she sees me, eyes wide and scared. I walk to her, going slow so as not to scare her. I never want her to fear me, not like that fucking bastard.
“Sadie...”
Her face falls when I speak her real name, her shoulders shaking with her cries. Stopping when I’m right in front of her, I fall to my knees, hands softly latching onto her hips. Resting my forehead against her stomach, I close my eyes and breathe her in.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I say, tears soaking her shirt when I feel her small arms come around my shoulders as she kneels in front of me. Looking into her eyes, I cup her face, the tears on my face mirroring hers. “Please don’t leave, baby.”
§
“I just didn’t know how to tell you. I was ashamed to admit who I really was.”
Lying in her bed together, my fingers trail up and down her back, her forehead pressed to mine. We haven’t spoken much, and I’m not sure I’m ready to hear all she’s going to tell me.
“I wouldn’t have judged you, Sadie.”
“I know that now,” she whispers, and I shift around so I can look into her eyes.
“How long did this go on?” I ask.
She blows out a deep breath and looks down. “Seven years.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, pulling her even closer to me.
“Can we not talk right now? Wait...I’m sorry. I have no right to ask you that, and if you’d rather just go home, that’s fine too.”
“Of course.”
Rolling over in the bed, I get comfortable on my back and close my eyes. We got hardly any sleep last night, and after the exhausting start to the morning, I could use a nap. I know I should force myself to stay awake, beg her to tell me everything, but I can’t. Sleep takes over my body and I’m vaguely away of Sadie sidling up next to me, her face buried in my neck, and then I’m out.
I’m jolted awake by the sound of a loud ringing. Squinting my eyes open, I realize it’s my cell phone on the end table. Checking the display, I answer the call.
“Hey, Brody,” I greet, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“Hey. Are you with Nacole?” I fight the urge to correct him, knowing it’s not my job to do so.
“Yeah, why?”
“Linds wanted me to call and see if y’all wanted to come out to dinner with us tonight. Nate has the closing shift, and we’re heading to that new steak house downtown.”
“I appreciate the offer, man, but we’re gonna have to pass.”
“Can’t get outta bed, huh? I feel that.”
I scoff and shake my head. “No, we’re out of bed. But tonight’s not a good night.”
“Everything all right?”
Looking over at the empty space next to me, I sigh and lie back on the bed, the phone pressed tight to my ear.
“I’m not sure, bro.”
“You know where to find me if you need anything, Garret.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime. I’ll text you later.”
“See ya.”
Ending the call, I drop my phone onto the bed and run my hands down my face. The smell of something delicious takes over my senses, and I climb from the bed in search of its source.
Stepping into the small kitchen, I find Sadie pulling something from the oven before setting it on the stove top. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her work in silence until she turns around, jumping with a shriek. Laughing, I stride forward and check out what she made.
“Apple pie? Shit, that smells good.”
“It was my mom’s recipe. I just felt like being close to her today.”
“Where are the plates?”
She laughs and swats at my chest. “You know where everything is. There might even be some vanilla ice cream in the freezer.”
“Woman, don’t play with me,” I joke, stepping around her to the freezer. Grabbing the half-gallon out, I carry it over to her small kitchen table, setting it in the center.
“You know this is burning hot, right?”
“Yep. Don’t care. You bake things that smell that good and I’ll risk the third-degree burns.”
Shaking her head, Sadie cuts a slice and carries it over to me. Sitting down, I reach for the plate when she leans over and places a gentle kiss to my cheek. I’m not entirely sure why, but it warms my heart and I grab her by the waist, pulling her onto my lap.
“You don’t need to be trying to butter me up, sweetheart. I’m still angry, but you have to know I’m not here out of pity. I’m here because you’re my girl. I just wish you’d told me sooner.” She nods and I kiss her forehead. Those beautiful brown eyes fill with tears, and I wrap my arms tight around her waist. “Please don’t cry,” I whisper.
“I can’t help it. I told myself every single day to tell you. I knew how wrong it was to lie, but I didn’t exactly move here looking for you. I didn’t want a new life. I just wanted to be free.”
Her words strike a chord with me, and I kiss the corner of her mouth.
“If it makes you feel better, you look more like a Sadie than a Nacole,” I joke, and she bursts out laughing, tears running down her cheeks.
Wiping her face, she climbs off my lap and goes over to the sink to clean up, then starts a pot of coffee. I eat in silence, groaning out loud at how good it is. Soon the smell of the rich coffee mingles with the pie, and the aromas are heaven.
Finishing my food, I carry the plate to the sink and wash it, setting it in the strainer. “There any leftover coffee?”
“Yeah, help yourself. And then can you come in here?” I didn’t even realize Sadie had left the room until her voice sounds from her bedroom.
“Be there in a second, babe.”
Pouring a mug of black coffee, I pad back into her bedroom. She's cross-legged in the middle of the bed, a mug in her hands.
“Sit,” she says, pointing to the end of the bed. Raising an eyebrow, I do as she says, folding my legs up under me. We sit in silence for a few minutes, and then she begins speaking.
“I met Graham when I was a junior in college. We had the same business class and we clicked. We became official a couple days later, and we married three months after we graduated. I had plans to open my own business, and he went into real estate. We were married a month the first time he hit me. I had planned dinner out, and he didn’t want to go anywhere.”
She pauses to take a sip of coffee, and I notice she’s avoiding my eyes. I hate it, but I understand. She’s having to relive horrific moments, and as much as I hate hearing it, I know she needs to tell me.
“He backhanded me across the face, and I vowed to leave him that night. But when I went upstairs to pack a bag, he was frantic and got down on his knees, begging and pleading with me not to leave him. He was sorry and it would never happen again. Said he was just stressed out from work and the housing market being shit. He was scared that he couldn’t provide for me. I offered to start looking into space for a business, told him maybe it was the time for me to start it up.”
“What kind of business did you want?” I ask, and a huge grin covers her face.
“Asshole.”
“Yeah. Well anyway, I became the doting wife, making sure dinner was always ready, cleaning his laundry, being at his beck and call at all times. My only saving grace was Mom. I saw her at least once a week, and even though he hated going, he knew if he didn’t, my mom would start to suspect there were problems. He forced himself through dinners and birthdays, but he always made sure he told me over and over again how much he hated it. Asked why my mom couldn't just find her own friends.”
Setting her half-full cup on the end table, she pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. I can’t help reaching out to cover her hands with one of my own.
“I was with him for nine years, Garret. I gave him my virginity, all of my trust, and all of me. He shattered it. After Mom died, he became so much worse, like he knew there was nobody else to find out. He could be as cruel as he really wanted and nobody would care.”
Sadie uses her arm to brush her tears away, and I lean over to place my coffee cup next to hers. When I sit back down, I pull her legs flush with me so I can hold onto her.
“Take your time, sweetheart. You don’t need to tell me everything right now.”
“Yes I do. I lied to you for almost three months. I can’t forgive myself for that, so I need you to know why. I need you to forgive me.”
“Sadie, stop.” Pulling her onto my lap, I cup her cheeks, our faces only inches apart. “I do forgive you. You don’t need to force it out just so I understand. I read the papers, saw the photos. I understand. And it was not your fault.”
“Garret.”
“No, you need to really hear me, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. Yes, I’m pissed you lied to me. That fucking hurt. But what hurts more is why. Why you had to lie about anything. There is absolutely no excuse for what he did. None at all. Assholes like him don’t even deserve to be called a man. He’s a fucking walking piece of shit, and I would love nothing more than to throw him in jail myself.”