Page 120 of Between Regrets and Promises

I bite the inside of my cheek, then release a concerned breath. Moments later, the meeting starts, so I tuck my phone away and try to stay focused.

My mind is in another place as people go around the circle and share their stories. I think about what losing Weston means to me. For almost two months, I’ve buried my feelings, though the thoughts of him and what he did to me still haunt me.

One woman lost her husband three years ago and talks like it happened yesterday. I’m tempted to ask her if he ever hit her, or threw her around, or made her feel like a piece of shit the way Weston continuously did to me. Being here tonight when all I want to do is forget him sends me spiraling into a panic. I’m realizing now that I shouldn’t have come.

As heat rushes to my cheeks, I quietly tell Caleb I’ll be right back, trying not to draw any attention in my direction. I need to escape as quickly as possible. The walls of the long hall feelas if they’re closing in, and I take deep breaths to steady my breathing. Once I’m in the ladies’ bathroom, I lean my hands against the counter, absorbing the silence. I needed to get away from the grief that blankets every person in that room.

I glance at myself in the mirror. Contoured face, perfect hair, tight party dress, and as Mason called them, fuck-me heels. It’s supposed to be one of the happiest nights of my life—something I’ve waited to experience for years—so I won’t allow the memory of Weston to take this from me. I deserve to be happy, don’t I?

Instead of hiding in here for the rest of the time, I head back into my seat while the pastor’s still talking and take notice of how intently Caleb’s listening.

“Death affects everyone at some point in their life, and most aren’t sure how to react to the loss. I think offering condolences is the polite thing to do, and you shouldn’t be offended when someone wants to help you.” He doesn’t take his eyes off Annette as tears stream down her face and fall to her lap. Watching her rips me up inside, and I offer my condolences, patting her softly on the back.

“Would anyone else like to share how they’re feeling this week?” He searches around the room.

Caleb speaks up and chats about his wife and how much he misses her, and it almost kills me to hear about his pain, but then suddenly, it’s like the blinders are removed. He swallows, but he almost seems emotionless as he speaks. As if he’s playing a part and has taken off the mask. I study him, wondering if Mason was right, and I never noticed his insincerity before. Though I’m seeing it now in his mannerisms and the fierce way he glances at me.

“Our anniversary was this week,” he continues robotically, and I suck in a ragged breath, then check the time. Only ten more minutes, then I’ll leave and go on my date with Mason. Iallow that thought to whisk me away, and I grow more excited with each passing second.

Pastor Jude smiles. “What about you, Sophie?”

He’s never called me out before without volunteering since most people talk freely. I look up at him, feeling like a student who doesn’t know the answer to the teacher’s question. The blood drains from my face.

“I don’t have anything to say,” I murmur. All eyes are on me, and I’m pissed he brought any attention my way. I look down at my hands, wishing I could be invisible.

An older gentleman takes his turn and talks about his daughter who he recently lost in a drunk driving accident. Losing a sibling or a significant other has to hurt, but to lose a kid? I can’t imagine. The meeting continues, and I find myself watching the clock more intently.

The pastor wraps up the session a few minutes early, and I can finally breathe again. I pull my phone from my clutch and open my text messages but don’t see a response from Dacia.

Caleb watches me as I frown. Concern doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel.

“Ready?” I ask when everyone starts saying their goodbyes, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible.

His jaw tenses and locks, but I’m not sure what I did to annoy him. When I follow him outside, he’s standoffish, but I ignore it.

Caleb unlocks the car, and when I climb inside, I buckle up because I’m ready to get home. When he gets in, a maniacal smile spreads across his lips. He continues staring, his cold gaze piercing straight through me.

“Everything okay?” I furrow my brows, searching his face.

His eyes narrow as he grabs my cheeks in his hands, pulling me toward him. “What do you think, Sophie?”

My breathing quickens as I try to pull out of his grip. Forcefully, he presses his lips against mine, and I struggle to get away from him.

Struggle to unbuckle.

Struggle to get out of the car.

But he grabs my arm, and in a split second, I see his fist coming toward me. Before I can react, I feel a sharp pain in my face, and then everything goes black.

My eyes flutter open, having no idea where I am. It’s hard to focus as I look around because the room spins, and my head feels like someone drove a hammer into my face.

With my arms secured tightly behind my back, I try wiggling around but then realize my ankles are duct-taped to a wooden chair. I inhale a sharp breath when I notice Caleb leaning against a counter. We’re in a house, and I’m in a kitchen, but I’m not sure where. The walls are gray, the floor is white, and the lights are so damn bright I have to squint. I quickly look over my shoulder and see a living room behind me. There’s a velvet couch, a large TV, and strange art on the walls. In the corner is a sculpture and all the curtains are drawn. Did he take me to his house?

“So Sleeping fucking Beauty is finally awake.” His voice is rough and nothing like I’ve heard before.

I glance around, unable to speak due to the tape over my mouth.

He crosses the kitchen and harshly rips it off. I let out a gut-wrenching scream, which only causes him to laugh. Going back to where he was standing, he tosses the tape on the counter. He drinks straight from a tequila bottle.

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