Page 239 of Sins & Secrets

Detective Bradshaw’s less than pleased with my statement. “Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Thanks, Detective, am I good to go now?”

“Have a good day,” he mutters as he walks past me, brushing my shoulder as he goes.

I finally bring my hands out of my pocket and open my clenched fist only to see the scrap of paper balled up. My breathing comes in shorter and my blood heats.

This shit has to stop. Right fucking now.

Diary Entry Two

Dear Pops,

I’m ashamed. I feel like I’ve lost complete control and I know it’s hurt Kat.

Help me to be a better husband and take the nightmares away. Please. Just get them out of my head.

It’s just getting worse every night, and it’s scaring my wife.

What kind of a man am I? Dreams are tearing my life apart.

I can’t sleep without seeing you. Don’t get me wrong, I love and miss you so damn much, but you always die in my dreams. You’re gone. All of the memories of our life together are changing. I don’t want them to, but I don’t know how to stop it.

I have them with Kat too, and it’s killing me.

I yelled in my sleep last night, and it woke me up. Kat was crying next to me, Pops. She said she’d been trying to wake me up and that’s when I started screaming.

She’s worried, and I feel like less of a man and husband because I can’t stop it.

Please, Pops, if you’re there and you’re able to, please help me.

I miss you.I can’t stand this.

Please just take it all back.

CHAPTER 25

Kat

At what point did this become my life?

I’ve been asking myself that question all morning. I’ve showered, I’ve eaten and cleaned most of the townhouse. But my mind is fuzzy with disbelief.

A sigh leaves me at the thought as I hail a taxi just outside our townhouse. The winter weather has lightened up some, and I almost feel like I could wear a light jacket and not this heavy wool coat. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to the cold.

It doesn’t take long for a yellow and black cab to pull to a stop in front of me. Ushering myself in, my mind still fails to grasp all the details of everything that’s happened in only months.

If an author submitted my story to me as a manuscript, I’d tell them it’s too unbelievable. What’s that quote from Mark Twain? Something about how truth is stranger than fiction because fiction needs to make sense.

“Where to, miss?” the cabby asks me as I get in the back seat and close the door.

“Saks on Fifth, please,” I answer confidently, although my nerves creep up. Evan would kill me if he knew what I was doing, but it’s not going to stop me. I need this.

There are only two things I’m certain of.

I can’t afford to let Evan leave me again or else I’ll truly lose my mind.

---