Page 86 of Whatever It Takes

He jerked back like he’d been struck by lightning. Something dark, resembling a storm, passed across his features.

“I see.” His voice was so cold it sent a chill across my skin. Humble Grant was gone and the calculating narcissist was back.

“I was arrested six days ago, and this is the first time my wife found the time to see me.” He cocked his arrogant head to the side. “What’s the matter, Charlotte? Have you been too busy playing house with your boyfriend, spreading your legs and fucking him in every room that I busted my ass to pay for?”

My mouth dropped open as he continued his rant.

“I can’t even remember the last time you let me touch you. Do you think pretending to be the perfect husband was easy? The pressure of my job and trying to maintain a good public image was exhausting. I couldn’t catch a fucking break.”

“Don’t you dare blame everybody else for your fuckups. You are a grown-ass man.” I glared at him. “Do you even feel an ounce of guilt for the five lives that you took? Can you even comprehend what you have done to your own family?”

“Of course, I do.” I watched him swallow hard. “What happened was a horrible accident. You know me. I’m not a monster, Charlotte.”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know what you are anymore. I don’t think I ever truly did.”

“I’m not sure you really cared to know the real me. You never loved me.”

“That’s not true. Maybe not the way you needed me to, but I did. Now,” I swiped my eyes, “knowing what you did to me, all I feel is hate.”

“Fine. Hate me all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that we have a child together. A child that I love more than anything on this earth. A child that I won’t allow you to keep from me.”

“A child you love more than anything, huh? Do you have the slightest clue how devastating this has been for her? She’s lost her friends, her confidence, her security. She’s lost the only father she’s ever known.”

Grant exploded. “That’s fucking bullshit! I may have fucked up with many things, but she is the one thing I’ve done right. I was the best goddamned father I could be to her and you know it. And if you think I won’t fight for her, you have drastically underestimated your opponent.”

His arrogance was astounding. Here was a man who was going to spend the rest of his life in prison and he had the gall to threaten me. “Sign the papers or not, Grant. At this point, I don’t give a shit. As your opponent, let me tell you this. As the only person in this marriage who can actually come and go as they please, I am in control of whether or not you will ever see Emery again. Not you. Me. I’m in control.”

His hands rested along the table as he rolled his thumbs back and forth. He glanced at the clock on the wall and then back to me. “I’ll sign the papers, because I owe you that much. But I’m not letting you take my daughter away from me. I want to see her.”

I couldn’t help but notice that it was still all about his wants and his needs.

“Emery is having a very rough time. She has her first appointment with her counselor next week. Give me a chance to talk to her therapist first.”

“I’m her father. She needs me.”

“That’s rich. Where the hell have you been since the night you crashed your car and left everyone for dead? You basically abandoned her.”

“I didn’t abandon her. I panicked. I’ve thought about Emery every single day.”

“You’re going to prison, Grant. I’m still not sure what that means for your relationship with her. I’m doing the best I can here. I’m trying to keep things as normal as possible for her. I’m trying to make sure she doesn’t end up hating you, but other than that, I can’t guarantee anything else. And if I’m honest, I think I’m being very fucking generous. So I wouldn’t push it.”

“Wow.” He leaned back, keeping his cuffed hands firmly planted on the table. “You really do hate me, don’t you?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the envelope. I slid the pen and the paperwork across the table where he could reach it.

“Finding out that the person that I trusted took advantage of me and violated me when I couldn’t defend myself, doesn’t really bring out warm and fuzzy feelings.”

A part of me didn’t want to feel anything for him. He lied to me and made promises to me, knowing that he hurt me. As much as I didn’t want to feel an ounce of pain over what he did, I still felt betrayed.

My husband raped me. That word alone made me cringe, but isn’t that exactly what it was?

I always assumed that rape was when someone beat you and forced themselves on you. That they were monsters lurking in bushes and breaking in through bedroom windows. Yet, if you look up the definition on Wikipedia like I did, it boiled down to one sentence. It’s a sexual act carried out without a person’s consent. Grant was my friend. A person I trusted. He touched me, knowing that I was unaware of what was happening. He was inside of me without me even remembering. Because he gave me a fucking pill to put me to sleep and took advantage of me when I was most vulnerable.

All these years I always thought I was too drunk to remember. Yes, I let him kiss me. Yes, I let him into my apartment and into my bedroom. Would I have gone through with it? I don’t know and I guess I never will because he took that choice away from me.

I lifted my head to the piece of shit in front of me. Tears rolled down his cheeks, remorse filled his eyes. “I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing you can say or do that can take away the damage you’ve done.” God, this was so difficult. “All you’ve done since the moment I met you is lie and deceive me. You stole seven years of my life. But hear me when I say this. We are done.”

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