Page 3 of Don't Leave Me
“You stole a car?” I asked him.
His lips tweaked. “I still say I was just borrowing it. The law didn’t see it that way. Growing up, Marie and I didn’t have much. We came from the projects. Our mother did what she could, which wasn’t a lot. We have two different fathers, which is why we were almost ten years apart in age. It’s crazy to think now, but getting caught, spending time in jail…it gave me a chance to clear my head. Figure out what I wanted from life. I got out, enlisted in the Army, and kept my nose clean. When I retired, I started picking up odd jobs until I landed with your father. He liked that I was a vet and didn’t care that I was an ex-con.”
“How did I not know this about you? I asked you, all the time, about your life before you came to work for us, but you always made it seem like you were born driving Arthur Landen.”
“Because I was never going to tell my Peanut about anything I had ever done wrong. I didn’t want you to stop looking at me like I hung the moon.”
“I’ll never stop looking at you like you’re my hero. Because you are.”
He frowned. “Some hero. I couldn’t save you from any of this. I should have kidnapped you myself. Then Marc wouldn’t be in this mess, and I could have just tucked you away somewhere.”
I reached over to pat his hand. “It wouldn’t have worked. Trust me. Arthur was always going to find a way to set Marc up. You wouldn’t have been able to stop that, either.”
“I didn’t see it coming,” George said, his hand tightening around his water glass. “His hatred of Marc, it had been there for so long and I never knew it.”
“I know. Sometimes I think he hates everyone. I try to remember if I ever felt love and affection from him. Or if that only ever came from you. Was Arthur always evil, and I just didn’t realize it?”
“I think he did love you, Peanut,” George said, as if he, too, was scrounging for memories of times when Arthur had been different. “Then your mother died, and, not long after that, you had your first asthma attack. It was like he pulled away from you. You were suddenly this person who could hurt him, and I think he shut you out because of it.”
“What fatherdoesthat?”
George frowned. “Not a good one.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead to me. You and Marc are my only family now. And look at what I’ve done to you both. You’re out of a job and Marc’s in prison.”
“Youhaven’t done anything. Remember that. Remember you’re our family, too. It goes both ways.”
“I love you, George. I don’t know if I ever said it, but you know I do, right?”
He nodded. “I love you, too. Which is why I want this mess of a marriage behind you. What are you going to do?”
I tapped my temple. “I’ve been working on a few things. Don’t worry about me. I just need time and I have plenty of it right now.”
Our lunches came and my stomach settled enough to allow me to enjoy my soup. For now, I had no worries. I had the weekend to myself. I was going to see Marc tomorrow, and, at least for now, nothing bad could happen to either of us.
* * *
Fort Dix
Four weeks after the wedding
Ashleigh
“You feel all right?” Marc asked me from his side of the table. It was my second visit, and, at least this time, he hadn’t started it off by telling me to stop coming. Maybe he’d resigned himself to reality.
Which was that, as long as he was in here, and for as long as I could, I was going to visit. He was going to know that none of what happened had changed my resolve when it came to him.
I never saidlove. I’d learned that lesson a year ago in Florida. It made him uncomfortable, and while a part of me thought he needed to hear it, the other part of me wanted to protect him from what hurt. Always.
“A stomach bug I haven’t been able to shake,” I told him. “It’s getting better. How are you doing?”
“I’m bored as hell. I’ve never rested so much in my life. It feels strange. I think. A lot. About the future. What job I might get once I’m out, now that all my plans have been shot to hell.”
“You don’t know that, Marc. When you explain to your potential employers the circumstances of what happened, so many are going to overlook this.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, and it made me squirm in my seat.
“Stop looking at me like I’m a naïve fool,” I told him.
