Page 59 of Don't Regret Me
Like the stars. Not all of them were visible, some were farther away. But it didn’t mean they weren’t there. The universe held so many secrets, so many doubts and mysteries. So, why had he thought he knew enough of them to see what was possible and what was only a part of the imagination?
Sometimes, he wondered if the angels descended from heaven, would the human race be able to comprehend what they were? Would people believe them? Probably not.
Birds circled overhead, lending their song to the clear day. Nick watched them, remembering every sign he’d had that there was something different about Liz, some connection she had to him. From the moment he saw her, he’d felt it. It was a cord holding them together. But cords could be broken, and he worried he’d sliced right through this one.
Then, from inside where Stephanie napped, there came a disgruntled wail.
“Tomorrow,” he promised Stephen, whispering the word to the wind and hoping it reached his brother. “Tomorrow, I’ll make everything right.” He walked inside and looked down at the baby.
He’d do whatever he had to do, hand Liz every piece of his shattered heart. He might be broken, irreparably damaged, but he needed her to love him anyway.
28
ELIZABETH
The tabloids were vicious. Liz didn’t know how these reporters could live with themselves after trying to rip lives to shreds.
“Did you really used to write this kind of thing?” Liz looked sideways to where Jasmine rested on the bed beside her. They were going through the articles online about Nick abandoning his wife and child for a random nobody.
That random nobody being her.
“I tried to stay away from the harsher attacks.” Jasmine sighed. “But yeah, I worked for one of these publications. When we met, I was supposed to be gathering dirt on Nick while he lay in the hospital bed. I’m not proud of it, but that’s why I dedicate my blog to telling the truth now. No more lies or propaganda.”
Nick Jacobs is the worst kind of man. His wife had a baby, and he’s off having an affair.
Jasmine reached over and shut Liz’s computer. “This is just Sherrie fans lashing out because of the divorce.”
“You really think so?”
Jasmine nodded. “I did some digging last week when this stuff first appeared. Looks like the papers have been in the works since before he went to rehab. They were separated while their lawyers duked it out, and tips have been called in continuously since then.”
Liz relaxed back into the pillows. “I’m now persona non grata to Nick and Sherrie fans, which is like everyone in this country.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No.” She sighed. “Yes. I guess it does. I’m not a home-wrecker. I’d never do that to another woman. I didn’t get between them in their marriage. Even back at the coma house, Nick said he’d told Sherrie he wanted a divorce.”
“Well, she knows now we have the evidence to use against her. So we need to be prepared. She tried to hurt Nick. I’m not sure if she intended to kill him, but she certainly had him drugged and put behind the wheel.”
“I still can’t believe it.” Liz closed her eyes, trying to calm the anger racing through her.
“And yet, we’re not using what we have.” Jasmine didn’t like that decision. She’d made it clear.
“Nick doesn’t want us to.”
“I know. It just feels… wrong. And now that Sherrie knows we know…”
“Yeah.” Liz pushed out a breath. “This stuff in the tabloids is nothing compared to what she’ll probably tell them now.”
“She’s not right in the head.” Jasmine threw her phone on the end of the bed. “Whether murder was the end goal or not, she nearly killed Nick and Bentley both. She’s deranged, and I can’t believe Nick doesn’t see it.”
That was the problem, wasn’t it? Nick didn’t want to believe her, just like he didn’t want to believe her about everything they’d been through together. There was no way to move forward from that, no way to get over it.
Whatever she and Jasmine uncovered, it wouldn’t mean a thing if he thought it was all lies. Liz set the computer on the table beside the bed and scooted down under the covers, burrowing in, as if that could make her safe. As if safety was a tangible thing she could hold on to.
But it wasn’t. Like love, safety was only an idea. A concept. All of those feelings—love, hate, safety, guilt—only mattered because people like Liz, like Nick, allowed them to.
It had been a long time since Liz shared a room with anyone taller than four feet, but having her friend beside her helped in a strange sort of way. A tear slipped down her cheek, and before she could wipe it away, Jasmine turned to face her.
