I don’t want to hear any more apologies. I don’t want to hear how sorry people are, I don’t want their sympathy, their false promises of help. I don’t want to watch as they try to pretend my life wasn’t a mess. They knew. They all knew, I’m sure of that now. They all knew who my husband was.
Was I the only one who didn’t?
Chapter 18
It rained, the day of Michael’s funeral. The church was full, so many people wanted to say their goodbyes. How many of those people had he slept with? How many of those people had been privy to his lies? Promised to help hide his deceit? How many of those people had really been my friends?
People talked, at the funeral. People judged, because Liam was by my side throughout. Liam held my hand, stood by me when everybody else thought it best to stand back. Was their guilt too much? So, they talked and they judged and they thought what they wanted to think. I didn’t care.
Ava was there. And Sara. Ava cried, Sara held her, I kept my distance. They’re nothing to me, they never were, Michael saw to that. But what he’ll never see now is his grandchild.
It was a long day. A tiring day. But it was a day that needed to happen, for me to be able to draw a line under everything. To end it once and for all. And when it was over, only then could I walk away and know that it was the only thing I could do.
I have Liam now. And I still don’t know if I love him. I don’t know if I’m capable of that emotion anymore, I feel so empty so much of the time. Even here, living our new life, in our new home, a large sprawling house on a leafy street in Palo Alto, northern California, I still feel empty.
Liam loves me, he tells me he loves me all the time, but I still feel empty. We’re so far away from everything we knew before yet I still can’t shake the past. I killed a woman. A fragile, damaged woman who’d been pushed to the edge because my husband had seen fit to take advantage of his position. She’d been vulnerable, and he’d played on that. What he did, it sickens me. What happened, because of him, that will stay with me forever. The only thing I take any comfort from is that I know now that I wasn’t crazy; I wasn’t imagining everything. I was being fed lies while Michael tried to cover his tracks. Gloss over his guilt. Keep his secrets.
I took a life, I killed someone, and that’s something I will never forget, something I will have to live with for the rest of my life, but there are still days when I find it hard. Nights when I can’t sleep. Moments when I wonder if dying is the only escape I have left.
I draw the curtains and look outside; it’s another beautiful, bright day. There hasn’t been a dull day since we arrived here. No dark clouds, no rain, just blue sky and sunshine. So that should tell me something, right? I should see that as a sign. A new beginning. I should read something into that, and push the darkness away.
Liam comes up behind me and his mouth brushes the side of my neck. I lean back against him, close my eyes as his kisses cover my skin.
He loves me.
He didn’t lie.
He didn’t cheat.
He was different.
And I trust him.
He promised me a happy-ever-after, do I believe that’ll happen?
No. Promises always get broken.
But I trust him.
I trust him…
Epilogue
I loved her too much to sit back and let fate take charge. I wanted her, too much, I wasn’t taking that risk.
I’d made the decision a long time ago, to take her from him. To claim her back. I should never have let her go, but I was weak, back then. Too scared to admit that she’d got to me, that I’d fallen in love when it was something I’d vowed I’d never do. And then he got in the way. He took her from me before I had a chance to fight for her, and from that day onwards I resented him.
I knew nothing of his affairs. I’d spent all that time playing the best friend yet I never really knew him. Just as Ellie never really knew him and in the end, he hurt her. And she never got the chance for payback.
I did.
And I took it.
The night he fell and broke his wrist, that was the night it started. That was the night I knew exactly how I was going to take Ellie back, take her from him the way he took her from me. They’d already separated, by that time, so maybe it would have all played out the way I’d wanted it to without my intervention, but I couldn’t take that risk. Despite everything Michael was, everything Ellie ultimately found out about him, there was always a risk that he would somehow find a way to convince her to come back to him. That she would begin to believe him, whatever he told her, because she’d loved him … once. I didn’t want her to love him again.
It was me; I caused his accident. I couldn’t guarantee how awkwardly he’d fall, or how severe his injury would be, I just got lucky that it was bad. That his pain was unbearable. It was me, who advised him to take meperidine, advised him to ask his doctor for that specific drug. Then when his doctor stopped prescribing it, told him there was no need for him to take such a strong, potentially addictive painkiller any longer, I told him his doctor was wrong. Told him I could get him more, if he felt he still needed it. I fed him the drug that eventually killed him. And even after he found out about me and Ellie, he still came to me, begging me to get him more meperidine. He needed me. And I helped him. Why wouldn’t I? I knew what the side effects were. I knew the risks, knew that his addiction could, one day, prove fatal. I just had to keep on top of things. Keep watching him.
The morning after he’d been brought into hospital, I did go for a run, just like I told Ellie. I didn’t lie to her. But after that run I didn’t go straight home, I drove to the hospital. I went to see Michael. I told the nurses looking after him that Ellie had wanted me to check in on him early because she couldn’t make it until later. I lied to them, and they believed me, because I can turn on the charm just as well as he could. I can use my smile, I can flirt. I can get anything I want.
I wanted Ellie.
They let me into your room, Michael, believing I was the concerned friend I pretended to be. After all, I was the one who’d saved your life the night before, right? And then I became the one who ended it. I administered that last, lethal dose of the drug you were slowly becoming addicted to. Your veins were already scattered with pin pricks from the tests you’d had, the blood they’d taken, they weren’t going to notice another one. I killed you, Michael. I induced the cardiac arrest that eventually took your life, and I feel no guilt.
You lied to her. You hurt her. You made sure she almost lost everything, but she was never going to lose me.
You got what you deserved.
We all got what we deserved. In the end…
Acknowledgements
I want to thank my publishers, HarperImpulse, for giving me the chance to write this story. And for believing I could do it. That means a lot.
My husband, for pointing me in the right direction when it came to some of the research. His technical head is always appreciated.
But, most importantly, I want to thank my editors Charlotte Ledger and Eloisa Clegg for their ideas, their help and support, and for pushing me into making this book something I’m so, so proud of. Their feedback has made me smile, made me believe in myself and I am incredibly grateful to them for everything. They’ve been amazing. Thank you.
If you loved ML Robert’s series, why not buy the complete collection?
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About the Author
M L Roberts writes chilling dramas and psychological thrillers that explore the darker side of family life, love and friendship.
Born in the North East of England – where many of her books are based – she has a love of horror novels, all things Swedish and is slightly obsessed with ‘Breaking Bad’. She’s also proud to call herself a bit of a geek.
When she’s not writing she can be found reading, listening to music and spending way too much time on Pinterest.
She currently lives in County Durham with her husband and increasing
ly mischievous dog.
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About HarperImpulse
HarperImpulse is an innovative, award-winning digital imprint. In the four years since launch, we have continually hit digital bestseller lists, hosted the UK’s first online romance festival, published into over ten countries and grown an exciting stable of commercial women’s fiction authors.
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Writers, our vision is to publish the very best in digital-first commercial women’s fiction and we are simply looking for good stories! So, what are you waiting for? To submit, e-mail us at [email protected].
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Till Death Do Us Part Page 9