Forsaking All Others (From This Day Forward Book 2)

by Shannon Myers

  No, I’ve just got to keep doing what I’m doing. If I can just keep her wanting more, she might be more receptive to the idea of us working things out. I just found release in the shower, the thought of her beautiful face at the forefront of my mind, and here I am getting hard just thinking about being back in the same house as her.

  The clock says it’s just after eleven, but I know Mike will still be up.

  “Hey man, did you just get my message?”

  I laugh, “Not exactly. Your girlfriend was trying not to interrupt. What’s going on?”

  He sighs heavily, “I tried to call you earlier. I’m not sure if you’ve seen the news or not, but there’s a missing person case involving someone who was intimate with Landon Scott. He voluntarily came in for questioning and to be honest with you, the guy’s a wreck. He’s been nothing, but forthcoming with any information he has—”

  I interrupt him, “So, you’re calling to tell me what exactly, Mike? That you still don’t have anything on him?”

  “Well, partly. The main reason I’m calling is because his alibi for August seventh involves Elizabeth. David, I’ve got to bring her in for an interview. I wanted to give you a head’s up before that happened though.”

  I rub at my temple in frustration. Shit.

  “You might as well bring me in too, man. I saw them together that day.”

  The line is silent for a minute, “Yeah, why don’t you both come in tomorrow morning. I’ll be up here for a while, but I may run home and try to get a couple of hours of sleep. Could we meet at nine?”

  I agree and hang up. I can’t see how corroborating that Beth was with Landon for all of twenty minutes will make much of a difference, but what do I know? I can’t say that I’m not a little pleased that he’s on their radar. He’s going to go down for her disappearance—how could he not?

  Beth was addicted to those true crime shows on television and Friday nights were spent watching Dateline or 20/20. It seemed like every case involved the spouse or significant other, no matter what the crime scene seemed to suggest.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see Jess’s name flash across the screen. I’m tempted to hit decline, but I’ve avoided her calls for the last couple of days. I’ve got to be a man and face the fact that I’m going to be a parent—even if it is with the wrong woman. Although I’ve still got hope that the paternity test will let me off the hook.

  “Hello?”

  “David—you do know how to answer your phone. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past few days.”

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t have much to say. Figured we’d talk once the test results come back. Did you make the appointment with the lab?”

  Her voice breaks, “I need to see you. Can I come over?”

  I shake my head, “Are you serious? It’s almost midnight, Jess. No, you can’t come over. There’s nothing we need to talk about now that can’t wait until morning.”

  “I want to show you the pictures from the visit. You ran out of there and missed the ultrasound.”

  I massage my temple again, this time with more force, “No. I can’t tonight—”

  She talks over me, “We need to talk about living arrangements once the baby comes. Do you think Lizzie will move out of the house? I think we’d have more room there than at my place—”

  “Do not say her name. I don’t want you approaching her about this shit either. We are not going to live together, Jess. You wanna know why? Because we’re not a family—there is no scenario where we end up together and raise this baby. I’m married to Beth and that’s not going to change.”

  She laughs bitterly, “Married? For how much longer, David? I know that she filed for divorce. Hell, half the town probably knows it by now. You might want to consider that there’s only one person still willing to have a life with you, and that’s me.”

  Should I be the asshole now or wait and let her get a few more digs in first?

  Now is as good a time as any.

  “Jess, not like it’s any of your business, but Beth and I have been spending more time together. I actually just got back from the house,” I can hear her crying, “If the tests show that this kid is mine, I’ll share custody with you. Until—”

  She raises her voice, “David, stop! I’ve loved you since that night at Nick’s when you met Lizzie. I knew we had something special…I just married the wrong guy!”

  I stop pacing and sit down on the edge of the bed. I pinch the bridge of my nose, the headache growing worse by the second. “Jess, please stop talking. You’re embarrassing yourself. Even if Beth and I can’t make things work, you and I will never be together. What happened between us is fucked up at best, definitely not a good foundation to build a relationship on. I’ll parent with you, but that’s all it will ever be. You never answered me before. Did your doctor’s office get you an appointment for the test?”

  Jess sniffs into the phone, “Yeah. They couldn’t get us in until September eighth at ten,” she laughs humorlessly, “I guess there’s a lot of people around this town who are unsure of who knocked them up.”

  Jesus—three weeks? I was hoping it’d be done within a few days. In three weeks, I expected to have an answer. I get the location for the lab and get the hell off of the phone.

  I shut off the lights and beg sleep to come easily.

  The next morning, I stop and grab a couple of coffees on the way to my house. I called Beth first thing this morning and let her know that we were needed at the police station. She didn’t seem surprised by the revelation, but then again she watches enough television to expect this sort of thing to happen.

  Lauren’s car is gone when I pull up and park. I walk across the damp grass and balance the coffees in one hand while ringing the doorbell with the other. Our next door neighbor, Charles, is out in his front yard messing around the flower bed. He waves and then gives me a questioning look. He’s in his late sixties and prides himself on being the neighborhood watch program. Seriously, I doubt anyone else needs to participate as he seems to know everything that’s going on at all times.

  I smile and return the wave, “Hey Chuck—left my garage door opener so I’m locked out.” He hates when I call him Chuck, so I make it a point to do it often.

  He nods, but still keeps his eyes on me.

  Nosy bastard.

  Beth opens the door and I see that she’s dressed up for the occasion. She’s wearing dark wash jeans with a grey t-shirt and black blazer. Her hair is down and somewhat tame today. I swear, those blonde curls are my kryptonite.

  “Hey. I’m just going to grab my shoes and we can go.”

  She runs back into the bedroom and I set her coffee down on the kitchen counter while I wait.

  I grab my cup and sip the hot liquid, trying to force my exhausted brain to function. I tossed and turned all night with thoughts of Jess, Beth, and even Landon. Needless to say, I’ll be looking forward to a Saturday afternoon nap.

  Beth comes into the kitchen and immediately wrinkles her nose. “What is that smell? It smells like something is burning.”

  She sniffs the air and I hold up her coffee. “I got you coffee. Is that what you’re smelling?”

  She looks at the cup like it contains poison and begins gagging. I’m still trying to process what the hell is wrong with her when she calmly walks over to the sink and vomits.

  Her voice sounds strangled, “Please get rid of it. Throw it in the dumpster—whatever, just get it out of this house.”

  I walk out to the alley and throw the coffee in the dumpster, but not before noting that the lawn needs to be mowed. I’ll take care of that after we get back from the station.

  Beth is standing by the garage door, drinking water as though nothing is wrong.

  “Are you still sick from yesterday?”

  She swallows and nods, “Yeah, it must be like a twenty-four hour bug or something. I hope you don’t get it.”

  We ride to the police station in silence. I sip my coffee while
she flips through the radio stations like most men (myself included) do with the T.V. remote. She finally settles on some god-awful pop radio station and hums quietly to herself.

  I take another sip of coffee and she rolls down the window, looking a little pale. “Beth, you okay? Feeling sick again?”

  She is turned so that the wind is blowing right into her face and I see her nod. I pull the car as far over onto the shoulder of the highway as I can and she stumbles out, vomiting into the grass and wildflowers growing on the side of the road. I slide across the seats and hold her hair back so she doesn’t get sick on herself.

  Beth wipes the back of her hand across her mouth when she finishes and I help her back into the truck. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the seat.

  “Hopefully, this will be quick and I can get you home into bed. Maybe you just need to sleep it off.”

  She nods again and I notice her teeth are clenched together. I pop open the console and fish around until I find a peppermint. “Try this, they’re good for nausea.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers before unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth.

  We manage to make it to the police station downtown without having to pull over again. Beth seems to be feeling much better once she gets out the truck, but I hand her a few more peppermints just in case.

  “How many of these do you have?”

  I laugh at her question, “Well, I eat at Sonic a lot so I’ve probably got a whole console full of them.”

  She places her hand on my arm, “You eat out every day? That’s really bad, David. You need to take better care of yourself.”

  Her words touch me. Regardless of what’s going on between us, she still feels something for me. I grab her hand as we walk across the street, “That’s what I’ve got you for, Beth. Make sure I’m eating right, getting eight hours of sleep—you know, important things like that.”

  She laughs, “And here I thought you were just using me for sex.” I smile and grip her hand tighter. She doesn’t pull away from me so we walk hand in hand into the station.

  There’s just enough moisture in the air for it to feel slightly humid, a rarity in west Texas, and I can already tell it’s going to be unbearably hot later. I just hope we can get in and out so that I can mow without feeling like I’m standing on the surface of the sun.

  They take us to different rooms to interview us separately, something I did not plan on happening. Mike assures me that this is normal procedure as he walks me to an interview room.

  “So, you never told me how you came to be an alibi witness. Care to elaborate?”

  I shrug my shoulders, “I was sitting in a parking lot and saw her come out of her doctor’s appointment. I was across the street so I had a pretty clear view of her. Landon came up out of nowhere and they talked for about twenty minutes. Nothing to elaborate really—it’s not like I heard what they were saying.”

  Mike stops walking and turns around to face me, “Did Elizabeth know you were there?”

  I roll my eyes, “No, she didn’t know I was there. I mean, I told her about it later.”

  He runs his hand through his hair, “Jesus Christ, David. You’re camped out in a parking lot just waiting for her to leave an appointment?”

  I stiffen, “Mike—Landon came up out of nowhere. Obviously, he was watching her. Thank God I was there to make sure she was safe!”

  “How is what you were doing any different than what he was doing? You were stalking your wife, man! That doesn’t make you look any better than him at this point.”

  “Now you sound like Beth. I was at Jess’s appointment with her. We had words and I left. I was taking care of a few things with work when she walked out. She looked a bit unnerved so I was making sure she got to her car when he walked up. And, really? Can one really stalk their own wife? I think that’s called being a good husband. You happy now, detective? Is this part of my interview?”

  He reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, this isn’t part of the interview. It’s just your best friend worrying about you. I want it to work out between you two, more than anything, but I also want you to remain rooted in reality. Don’t kill yourself chasing after a woman who doesn’t want to be caught.”

  I give him a curt nod, seething on the inside. It’s getting really old, hearing advice from people who have no idea what’s going on between me and my wife.

  “Alright, Dear Abby, let’s get this shit over with.”

  I sit on a hard plastic chair, resting my arms on the table in front of me in an otherwise empty room. There’s a one-way mirror along the wall in front of me and I can’t help but feel nervous. I have to remind myself that I’m not a suspect in Katya’s disappearance—something that’s easy to forget when sitting here.

  At least I don’t feel like barfing anymore. I used to love coffee, but for the last few weeks the smell of it sends me running for a toilet. I really hope David still thinks I have a bug and isn’t starting to suspect anything else.

  Mike walks into the room with a man and woman I don’t recognize.

  “Elizabeth, this is Carole Shaffer—she’s representing Landon Scott and this is Adam Perry—he’s a special investigator that will be interviewing you today.”

  I nod at both of them, “Nice to meet you.”

  Adam sits down across from me, “Do you have any questions before we begin?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” I try to calm my shaking hands in my lap.

  He continues, “Mrs. Greene, just so you’re aware, this interview is being recorded. Have you ever been interviewed in this capacity before?”

  I let him know that I haven’t.

  “Are you aware of why you’re being interviewed this morning?”

  “Yes, it’s regarding the disappearance of Katya Egorichev and my interaction with Landon Scott.”

  “How familiar are you with this case?”

  I shrug, “Not very, I saw it on the news yesterday. I know she’s been missing for over a week. I also know that she was dating Landon Scott, but I believe that relationship ended back in May.”

  Landon’s lawyer scribbles something on a piece of paper, but otherwise remains silent.

  The rest of the questions consist of where I was last Thursday. I recount my day from the time I woke up until running into Landon. The investigator asks a lot of questions about that interaction and I answer everything as best I can.

  Afterward, I’m ready for lunch and a nap. I’ve found that if I wait too long to eat it makes the nausea even worse. I pop another peppermint into my mouth as I sit on a bench outside, waiting for David to finish his interview.

  Just as I’m about to text him, he comes storming out of the building, the glass doors rattling behind him.

  “Let’s go.” His voice is cold and I have to jog to keep up with him.

  “What happened in there?” I’m panting slightly, but I’m going to blame that on the pregnancy and not the fact that I haven’t stepped foot inside a gym in the last two months.

  He unlocks the truck and walks around to the passenger side to help me in, “Nothing. Just got a lot of shit to get done today—don’t wanna waste another second here.”

  We drive back to the house in complete silence, even the radio is turned off. Even without my full memory I can tell he’s furious, the anger radiates from him. I just wish I knew why he was so upset. I think back to when we got to the station and he seemed fine. I mean, we were holding hands so surely it’s not anything I’ve done.

  He parks in the driveway when we get back and helps me out before going into the garage. The broody silent treatment isn’t working for me so I follow him.

  “You wanna tell me what happened back there? You were fine when we got there, but now you’re obviously upset. I just want to know why.”

  He pulls the lawnmower out from the back corner of the garage and begins checking the gas and oil levels. “I’m fine. I told you—I have a lot to accomplish today. Go on inside and get
some lunch.”

  I sigh, but my rumbling stomach begs me to take his advice. I make a turkey sandwich and eat it as I make him one as well. This is getting complicated. I’m not sure how I thought that I could file for divorce and keep emotion out of it, but I did. Now, I’ve got a brooding alpha outside mowing and I’m worrying about why he’s upset, while fixing him lunch.

  To make matters worse, I find myself dreaming about the next time he’ll kiss me. We’re acting like we did when we were dating. I laugh at the thought. We were constantly making out, but not having sex. I didn’t realize I’d be back in the same boat five years later. I’ve crossed a line and there’s no way I’m walking away unscathed at this point. I don’t want to keep pushing him away, but I’m not okay with playing stepmom to Jess’s baby. I’d constantly be worried that she was trying to stick her claws into him again. Maybe I just enjoy these next few weeks and then tell him goodbye.

  I hear the lawnmower stop and decide it’s a good time to interrupt. I carry the plate of food and a glass of iced tea out into the garage, but I don’t see David anywhere. The front yard is finished so I walk through the gate into the backyard. He’s crouched down over the lawnmower with a wrench in his hand, doing God knows what, but looking good while doing it. The muscles in his forearms stand out as he tightens something.

  “I brought you some lunch.” It’s comes out sounding raspy as my mouth has suddenly gone dry.

  “Thanks.” He doesn’t even turn around.

  I place everything on the patio table and wait for him to come over. He stands up and there’s a mixture of grease and oil on his hands and shirt. He goes over and turns on the faucet on the outdoor sink, scrubbing up with soap and a brush, and I’m so mesmerized by his rugged hands that I don’t initially notice that he won’t make eye contact with me.

  What would have happened that he can’t even bear to look at me?

  The truth hits me like a sucker punch.

  Landon.

  It’s the only thing that makes sense. Being at the police station was a stark reminder that my hands are just as dirty as his in this whole situation.