Page 51 of Love Me Gently

No. I needed to stay smart. Think ahead. Plan and figure out how to make it through this so when Jonathan arrived—and I had no doubt he would—I would not be the one at fault in any of this.

It didn’t matter if it made me cold for being so willing to throw Cole, and perhaps Valerie and Kip, and their part under the proverbial bus, but they hadn’t lived my life.

They hadn’t had to do what was necessary to survive.

I wasn’t getting out of this without more scars.

The only thing I had a chance at determining was how deep those cuts went before they scarred over.

Was I thankful to be away from Jonathan? I couldn’t even say. I knew him. Knew how to read his moods and respond appropriately. I knew my limits and my boundaries. At least, I did until he changed them without notice. Here, back in Deer Creek, there was no safety. No boundary.

I had been whisked away and snuck into Cole’s house, and in the few conversations I’d had with Valerie, I hadn’t let her explain what happened. The less I knew, the better.

One thing for certain, Jonathan wasn’t just going to come for me.

He was going to come for Cole once he figured it all out.

That he had a part in my disappearance wouldn’t be far-fetched considering the business card. The card our cleaning lady somehow found in my underwear drawer and stupidly left on the dresser.

The card that had fueled Jonathan’s rage.

The card that started it all.

My fault for keeping it. For wanting one tiny, insignificant reminder of when life was good and I wasn’t trash.

“Enough.” I climbed out of the bed. I’d lingered long enough and the quicker I went along with Cole’s plan for fresh air and sunshine and absurdity, the sooner I’d be back in this bubble in the strange empty room with the smiling little girls who brought tears to my eyes every night.

Happy tears for Cole who had what he’d always wanted. He’d wanted children. Now he had them.

Sad, tortured tears for me. For every choice I had made in this life that had led me to being broken beyond hope, ruined far deeper than any bruises would ever show.

If Cole was planning some massive rescue operation, he had to realize it was a failure before it ever began. He might have temporarily saved my body, but he’d never find and rescue all the parts of my shattered and tattered soul.

I was already dressed and while it probably wasn’t necessary for a car ride, I clipped on the knee brace. You never knew who was watching. Who could see me. It’d be better if he saw me as the still-healing wife, forced here against her will…waiting for when she could be returned.

And perhaps that’s what I should do.

Go back. Explain.

Maybe…

I limped out of the bedroom and into the downstairs bathroom. Cole’s house wasn’t large, but it was homey and a normal-sized home for Deer Creek. Clearly a split-level, I’d been stashed in the downstairs bedroom, right outside what looked like a movie watching area and a toy room. Everything was neatly put away. If I hadn’t already seen the pictures of him and his girls, I’d know he had daughters. Pink and purple toys and books and buckets and baskets lined one large wall.

I yanked my gaze back to the carpet.

The pain was too much to see. The regret too large to face.

Had I been smarter that could have been mine.

Cole must have heard me coming. As I started up the stairs, thumps came from my right. His body cast a large shadow over where I hobbled up the stairs, and then he met me in the entryway space. It was small, and he was too close. His presence too large and his scent too memorable.

I kept my gaze on the floor.

I’d thought of him every minute since that day on the street. When I cried myself to sleep, once I was assured Jonathan’s snores meant he was sleeping, I thought of Cole. The easy smiles he gave, the boyish charm, the stubborn set on his features. All of it came mixed between memories of the boy I used to love and the man he’d become on that sidewalk.

In reality, all of him was harder now, more jagged, but no amount of maturity or growth could eviscerate the joyful glimmer in his eyes he’d always had. Like life was one big party and he was along for the ride. There was a time I’d followed along on that ride, hands up and enjoying every moment of it.

I now knew different.

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