The Life You Stole

by Ann, Jewel E.

  It reaffirmed what I knew in the deepest, darkest depths of my soul—I wanted to die. The pain would stop for me and Ronin. My time was near.

  Something I mistook for reason whispered to my conscience, telling me to tell Ronin the truth about Evelyn and Graham. But I just couldn’t. Their fate wasn’t mine to decide. I let Ronin cheat on his wife of his own accord. I had to let fate take care of the truth in its own time.

  I waited, emotionally preparing for him to climb off me and run out of the house without so much as a glance back. But he didn’t. Once his sobs subsided, he moved us so we were on our sides, hugging, legs intertwined … and then we slept.

  Two hours later, I woke from a deep sleep all alone with a blanket covering my half naked body and no sign of Ronin.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Evelyn

  Oh the nevers …

  I never imagined falling in love at a bubble tea cafe in Vancouver.

  I never imagined marrying a man after knowing him for only a few months.

  I never imagined that man would cheat on me.

  But more than all of those nevers put together and multiplied times infinity … I never imagined my best friend screwing my perfect husband.

  The truth?

  I didn’t know anything for sure. I just knew something in my gut caused me to leave my kids with Sue and have Sophie cover the shop while I followed my husband. Honestly, I imagined him driving to Adrianne’s apartment. I never imagined the trail would lead me all the way to Denver, to the Porter estate. Yet that was where it led me.

  I waited outside of the gate, just down the street. I waited for three hours. And while my mind tried to play tricks on me, forcing me to think the unthinkable, I never truly imagined I’d peek through the gate three hours later and see him practically stumbling out the front door, pulling on his shirt and jacket and carrying his shoes.

  That day marked the beginning of the end, just not how I imagined it. Life never went in the imagined direction. It traipsed through the mud, climbed impossible mountains, and leapt the widest oceans. But usually not without getting muddy, slipping off a few cliffs, and drowning in the current.

  Where to go?

  What to do?

  I didn’t know that answer. Our actions affected two children. Packing a single bag and skipping town or tossing Ronin out of my house held consequences for Franz and Anya.

  Instead of busting into Lila’s house, demanding answers, I made the long drive home, being mindful to stay far behind Ronin’s car. I needed the time to think, to let my knee-jerk reaction calm into something less hostile.

  I made it to Franz’s school twenty minutes early. Twenty more minutes to let my emotions make sense. When we arrived home, Franz hopped out excited to see Ronin’s car.

  “Daddy’s home!”

  “Daddy’s home,” I mumbled to myself.

  Mrs. Humphrey greeted us as Ronin held a finger to his lips. “Shh … she’s sleeping.”

  My baby girl wasn’t well yet—another reason I needed to be meticulous with my words and actions. Everything we did had aftershocks that could be felt for many miles.

  “Go wash your hands, Franz.” I shooed him toward the bathroom, and Mrs. Humphrey followed him.

  Keeping my eyes on Anya, in spite of feeling Ronin’s gaze heavy on me, I kissed her warm forehead. Before I could stand straight again, Ronin pressed his free hand to my cheek.

  It hurt. That look in his eyes hurt more than his touch, more than the memory of him leaving Lila’s house, more than anything. I had never seen so much torment and regret with one look.

  “How was your day?” he whispered.

  It felt like my mom died all over again.

  I shrugged. “How was your day?”

  He released my face and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes slightly narrowed. “I’ve had better days.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Maybe later.”

  Later …

  It felt like the longest evening of my life waiting for later.

  Making dinner.

  Walking Mrs. Humphrey.

  Washing dishes.

  Baths for the kids.

  Bedtime stories.

  Rocking Anya to sleep.

  When later came, I didn’t get a confession or a long description of Ronin’s day.

  I got a kiss. A hard kiss.

  I got needy hands tugging at my clothes.

  I got pushed against the bedroom wall as if the bed was just too far.

  Ronin stole my breath, my words, my fight.

  Tears begged to be set free. Words fought for their voice. All thoughts evaporated as he suffocated me with his need. That need broke my heart as tiny pieces of the puzzle started to align. This explosive need came from Lila.

  The day he said he was going to Denver for CPR—he went to see Lila.

  They shared something I couldn’t completely understand. He felt her … but on what level?

  I couldn’t believe he’d cheat on me. I refused to believe Lila would do this to me. There had to be some other explanation. But why the secrecy? If they weren’t having an affair, why lie to me?

  So many questions. Ronin didn’t give me a chance to ask a single one before he had half of our clothes ripped off and his cock buried inside of me on a painful grunt. A bed … we had a bed. But he chose the wall as if to prove the depth of his need, the urgency to be inside of me.

  I kissed him because I loved him and needed him—needed us—so much that the idea of losing what we had made jagged cuts into my heart, tearing away pieces of my soul.

  Over the next few hours—into the early morning hours—I tried to approach the subject of Lila, but Ronin silenced me with his mouth, his hands, his whole body manipulating mine, giving me pleasure but not without pain.

  After he passed out a little before two in the morning, I set my tears free and muted my sobs with my pillow. Many years earlier, I’d helped Lila concoct a custom scent for all of her bath products—a very distinct scent made just for her. I knew that scent well.

  That scent was all over Ronin.

  The next morning, I woke to an empty bed. When I peeked in the garage, Ronin’s Subaru was there, so he must have gone for a hike. As I shut the door, I heard a familiar thunking sound. I shoved my feet into my boots and put on my coat. The kids would likely sleep for another hour.

  Pulling my fuzzy pink cap onto my head, I rounded the corner of the house. Mrs. Humphrey darted toward me as Ronin reared the ax back and heaved it forward, splintering a large log.

  I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to go outside with him. My mind and my heart still couldn’t agree on the words I needed to say to him.

  “Good morning.” He wiped his brow with the sleeve to his coat.

  “Morning,” I tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

  “Are you all set to leave next week?”

  Thanksgiving.

  “Anything I can do to help you pack?”

  I shook my head, not because I didn’t want help. I just couldn’t think.

  As much as I needed time away, even more after recent revelations, the worry over where Ronin would be, who he would be with, felt like a chain around my heart, holding me in place.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He swung the ax again, slicing through the wood. “Nothing. Why?”

  “Because we have enough wood chopped to last five years. So you must be out here working through something. And I know this because I’ve added plenty of wood to the pile while dealing with … life.”

  The sadness in his eyes intensified with each blink. On a long breath, he dropped the ax and sat on the tree stump, lacing his gloved hands behind his neck. “When we were in the Hamptons over the summer, I stumbled upon something. A discovery of sorts.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That first day when I took Lila’s purse to her, she was having … a moment. In an attempt to comfort her, we hugged.”

  My stomac
h twisted. I didn’t want it to be true, but Ronin was making it true. I hugged my arms to my chest.

  “Something happened. The pain, the depression, the ringing in my ears, everything I’d been feeling from her just … vanished. I felt like myself. I felt good. And I don’t know if she needed someone’s arms, unconditional kindness and understanding, or what it was, but I only felt her feeling good too. At peace.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I could breathe. I felt normal.”

  My mouth opened to speak, but my heart strangled the words. I knew if I tried to say anything, I would fall apart.

  “The normal feeling felt like a high. It lasted for a while, but eventually it faded. Starting with the ringing in my ears and then the pain … the depression.”

  I didn’t realize the depth of Lila’s depression.

  Ronin rested his forearms on his knees. “When things start to get really bad, when I feel it affecting you and the kids, I visit Lila.”

  Swallowing hard to keep my emotions in check, I whispered four words. It was all I could get out while remaining in one piece. “What does that mean?”

  “We talk, but mostly we hold each other. Usually, we fall asleep.”

  Curling my cold lips between my teeth, I nodded slowly.

  “Jesus, Evie … I know this hurts. And I should have told you when it first happened. I loved the high. I loved the husband and father I was after seeing her.”

  “You saw her yesterday.”

  His eyes reddened as he returned a barely detectable nod. Why? Why did yesterday make him emotional but the rest of his confession did not?

  I deserved to know the truth. The entire truth. Yet asking for it felt like confessing my lack of trust in him. And I couldn’t forget how much it hurt him when I questioned his fidelity with Adrianne. If he didn’t cross the line with a whore, how could I question him about Lila—my best friend?

  Had I not suggested we go skiing to make up for how I’d treated Graham, Lila wouldn’t have fallen off that mountain. Ronin wouldn’t have saved her life. And they wouldn’t have made a connection I couldn’t understand. How could I be mad about something I created?

  Still … I needed to know. Not knowing for sure would destroy me. It would destroy us.

  “You only—”

  “Mom?” Franz called in a sleepy voice.

  I turned, dragging my heavy heart toward the front door. “Morning, sweetie. You’re up early.” Mrs. Humphrey and I herded Franz back into the house. Ronin followed a few minutes later. The rest of our morning fell back into routine. Anya’s fever broke. Franz fought with Ronin over what he was going to wear to school. And Mrs. Humphrey vomited some bile and one of Anya’s socks.

  There was never the perfect time to let our marriage fall apart, to stop swimming against the current, to forget about responsibilities in life that didn’t care if your husband had an affair.

  While I was changing Anya’s diaper, the door shut. By the time I put on her clothes for the day, Ronin’s car was gone. He and Franz left with no goodbye.

  “Have a good day,” I whispered to the empty spot in the garage.

  When I arrived at my shop, I called Lila. She didn’t answer. I sent her a message.

  Evelyn: Can we talk soon?

  She didn’t reply.

  “How’s Anya?” Sophie asked the second she walked through the door, wearing her signature youthful smile.

  “Better. Her fever broke.” I unlocked the register drawer.

  “You excited for your trip? I think hiring Abby was a good idea.”

  “Yeah. The kids will love spending time with my dad and Katie.”

  “Maybe you and Ronin can have a date night with such willing babysitters.”

  “Ronin’s not going.”

  “But it’s Thanksgiving.”

  I nodded, turning the music on in the shop. “We’ll be gone for almost two weeks. Snow is expected here. He couldn’t take that much time off.”

  “That sucks.”

  Yes. A lot of things sucked at that point in my life. Sucked might have been a monumental understatement if my worst fears turned out to be true.

  Ronin fell back into his hole quickly over the following days. He found every excuse to arrive home late, fall asleep before I got Anya to sleep, and leave in the morning without a goodbye. His behavior made it easy to leave. If he was having an affair with Lila, not going to San Francisco wasn’t going to stop it. But more than my fear of infidelity, I just wanted my husband and my best friend to not be in so much physical and emotional pain all the time. My distrust and accusations would ruin all of us, and I wasn’t prepared to blow up my world.

  At least, not until I had time to myself to figure some things out. And not until Lila returned my messages or called me back.

  The Monday before Thanksgiving, Ronin drove us to the airport in Denver in spite of my insistence that I could leave my car there so he also didn’t have to pick us up.

  “Be good for Mommy, okay?” He hugged and kissed Franz while I unfastened Anya from her seat. After he unloaded our luggage, he kissed Anya on the cheek. “I’m going to miss you like crazy.”

  Tears stung my eyes. Why did our leaving for two weeks feel so final? Why did he have unshed tears pooling in his own eyes as he grabbed my face and kissed me? I tried to hold it, but I couldn’t. I choked on a tiny sob as my emotions broke free.

  “Shh … no, baby. Don’t cry.” Ronin hugged me as Anya tugged my hand and Franz sat on his suitcase.

  I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat. Ronin wiped my cheeks and kissed me one last time. “Call me … every day. Okay?”

  I nodded, holding my breath and the rest of the emotions threatening to break the dam.

  “Mommy, don’t cry.” Franz wedged himself between us, hugging my waist.

  I pulled my suitcase and guided Anya to the door with Franz pulling the other suitcase beside me. After we made it to the entrance, before the glass doors shut, I gave one glance back at Ronin, but he was already pulling away from the curb.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lila

  “There will be thirty of us for Thanksgiving,” Graham announced, opening the door to the library.

  I was surprised he found me there. Equally disappointed. I liked having a safe haven. I also liked snuggling under a blanket with Desolation Angels on the sofa where Ronin touched me. That would be what I thought about before I took my last breath.

  My attention shifted to him as he perused the shelves of books. “I called Evelyn yesterday. Did you know she’s in San Francisco with the kids? Ronin stayed home. Something about not being able to get off work.”

  “No. I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

  “Oh … are you two having a tiff?” Graham’s ridiculous game of ignorance usually angered me, but I had no more anger left inside of me. The recent infidelity between the four of us used up the rest of my give-a-fucks. Ronin stayed for me. There was no way he’d miss Thanksgiving with his family because of work.

  “That would please you, wouldn’t it?” I said.

  “No. I like my girls to be happy.” He pulled a book from the shelf, glanced at the back of it, and returned it to its spot before continuing his stroll around the room.

  “I’m not your girl.”

  “You’re my wife.”

  “I’m the person who will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  He chuckled, brushing his fingers over the thin strips of tape along his scarred cheek. “Like a ghost?” Graham found our situation amusing. A perfectly healthy woman planning her suicide wasn’t funny. It proved I married a psychopath. Maybe it also proved I wasn’t “perfectly healthy.” Emotionally damaged? Depressed beyond words most days? Yes. My biggest problem? I lacked the will to live most of the time. Except with Ronin. With him, I felt a spark of hope.

  I didn’t kid myself; that spark would die. I would die.

  “More like Karma,” I murmured.

  “How ungodly of you to wish bad luck upon
me.”

  I closed my book and rested it on my lap. None of it felt funny to me. Everything felt tragic. “I don’t wish you bad luck. I pray for you. I pray for us.”

  “Is God not answering your prayers?”

  I shrugged. “Time will tell.”

  “You know …” Graham sat at the opposite end of the sofa.

  I drew my knees toward my chest, letting the book fall aside as I tightened the blanket around me.

  “In a perfect world, we could just swap.”

  “Swap?”

  “Spouses.”

  What?

  I inched my head side to side. That made no sense. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” Graham gave me a look.

  I couldn’t decipher it, but it brought bumps to the surface of my skin. It made my spine tingle with a cold chill.

  “I think I failed to mention inside those two lovely statues anchoring the books on the middle shelf are security cameras.” He clucked his tongue three times. “There’s some expensive art in here that we must protect. The cameras are motion activated. And recently … there was a lot of motion happening on this sofa that we’re sitting on.”

  My heart took a nosedive into the pit of my stomach, forcing a surge of acid up my throat. I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.

  “Gotta say … I’ve never seen or imagined a guy could fuck a woman with so much vigor yet wear the most tortured expression on his face. You were sleeping, but you should have seen the look on his face when he left. In fact, I’d be happy to show it to you if you’d like to see it.”

  “He didn’t fuck me,” I whispered.

  “No? Huh … definitely looked like it from both camera angles. Christmas came early. I honestly thought I’d have to work harder. I thought Adrianne Craig was my best bet. But even she proved to lack what it took to bring Ronin to his knees. Joining his junkie group. Befriending him. Gifting a dog. Hell, she even had his and her tires slashed to force more time together. Ronin is such a fucking Boy Scout, or so I thought.

  “But who knew? Really … all this time the bait was right in fucking front of me. So much money wasted on a professional whore when I could’ve gotten one to do the dirty work for free. Family discount. Thanks, babe.”