Life After Taylah(82)
It’s a big risk, but it’s one I’m willing to take.
CHAPTER 35
NATE
She’s gone. She’s been gone for a month.
Things haven’t gotten better for me. Since the day she ran from the grocery store, I’ve thought about her. I confronted Lena, but she denied ever seeing Avery. Who do I believe? The thought that Avery might fall in love while she’s gone, that she might truly leave my life forever rips me apart inside. I don’t know how I’ll survive if she comes back in love and happy. How can I see her like that when I want to be the one it should happen with?
“Daddy,” Macy calls, running into the living area where I’m sitting, staring at nothing.
“Hey, baby,” I say, wrapping my arms around my daughter.
“Mommy locked the door. I can’t get in.”
I sigh and stand, taking Macy’s hand and leading her down the hall. I get to the bedroom door and reach out for the handle when I hear Lena’s voice flowing through.
“I can’t tell him, J,” she says quietly. “He’ll never forgive me if he knows I’m not really sick.”
I can’t be hearing her right. I put my finger up to Macy and tell her to be quiet. She nods and presses her ear to the door when I do.
“It’s the only way I could keep him here. I know about that tramp, and I know he would have chosen her.”
Rage swells in my chest. She knows? She fucking knows?
“I paid her a visit, told her to leave town. I had to threaten her, but I heard she went. Things will get better now, especially when I suddenly recover. We can move away, maybe have another baby. I’m not giving up my lifestyle for some trashy bimbo.”
Blinding rage: it’s all I feel. My vision blurs and my entire body prickles.
“Macy,” I say to my daughter, and I’m thankful she doesn’t notice my voice shaking. “Go and play, honey.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
She rushes off and I lift my fist, pounding on the door.
“Shit,” I hear Lena say. “Ah, coming.”
She opens the door, and I struggle to keep my face as calm as I can.
“What were you doing?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
“I was just on the phone with the doctor.”
Liar. Liar. Fucking Liar.
“Right, well, don’t you have a treatment today? I’m coming with you to this one, like it or not.”
Her face pales. God, how did I not notice this before? All along she’s been dancing around this, going to “appointments” by herself. How could I be so fucking naïve?
“I prefer to go alone, Nate. You know it makes me feel ill. I don’t want you to see me like that.”
“I’m your husband, I’ve seen you give birth. It’s fine.”
“Nate, please, why do we have to argue about this?”
“What is it you’ve got exactly?” I say, glaring at her.
She stares at me, narrowing her eyes. “You know what I’ve got.”
“Refresh me.”
Finally, she clues on. “What’s going on, Nate?”
“I want to see a doctor’s report.”
“Why?” she cries.
“Because you’re a fuckin’ liar, that’s why,” I roar, finally losing my shit.
Her face falls and her face falls. “Nate, please . . .”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” I hiss, stepping forward. She takes a step back until we’re both in the room.
“You were going to leave me,” she sobs. “You were going to go off with her.”
“How do you even know about her?” I bellow.
“I’m not fucking stupid. I saw the way you looked at her. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Then I saw a message on your phone a few months ago and I knew.”
“So you lied, you made a mockery of sick people so I wouldn’t leave? What kind of person are you?”
“The same as you,” she screams. “Low and pathetic.”
“Maybe so,” I growl. “But that’s why it should have ended. You know as well as I do there is no hope here. Why would you fuckin’ keep me here when you never wanted it either?”
“Just say it,” she yells, throwing the phone. “Don’t put it back on me. Admit what you’ve wanted to admit for years. Admit that you don’t love me anymore.”
I take a step forward, getting in her face. “I don’t love you anymore.”
She reaches out and she slaps me hard. My head jerks to the side and I grind my jaw.
“I don’t love you either, you piece of shit,” she screams. “In fact, I hate you.”
“Hate me?” I laugh cruelly. “If you hate me then why lie? Why not let me go?”