The Darkest Hour(51)

"Okay, you have to back up, sweet pea. Because I'm not getting any of this. Ethan thinks you and I had an affair?"

"He wanted a divorce. He demanded one," she said painfully.

"Holy fuck," Garrett hissed. "Has he lost his goddamn mind? He said all  this tonight? After you almost went over a fucking bridge?"

Garrett's face was getting redder by the minute. He looked like he was  about to explode, and she rushed to diffuse the situation.

"I'm explaining this badly. No, not tonight. Oh God, Garrett. I think I'm losing my mind."

Sam leaned forward, his voice soft and even. "Take your time, honey. Back up and tell us everything."

She dragged a hand through her hair. She was so tired. Just hours before  she'd felt like she could conquer the world. She'd been happy. She'd  been secure in Ethan's love. Finally she'd thought her life was back on  track, and now everything was so messed up.

"Were we happy?" she asked. "Did you think Ethan and I were happy? I mean before I died."

Neither answered, and maybe they thought it was a rhetorical question. She sighed and continued on.                       
       
           



       

"I've been having these dreams. Nightmares really. In all of them Ethan  is angry. So angry. He's shouting. I'm bewildered and feel helpless. I  wondered if my insecurities were just manifesting themselves in my  dreams because Ethan has been so perfect since he rescued me. Everything  has been so . . . perfect. I've wanted to tell him I love him, but the  thought always terrified me. Something always held me back. Tonight,  though, I finally told him, and he was so overcome. And then I went to  sleep and had the most horrible nightmare again."

"What is your nightmare?" Sam asked gently.

"More shouting. More anger. The knowledge that he hates me. He was shoving these papers at me."

Remembering that she'd stuck them into the waistband of her sweatpants,  she pulled them out now and held them in trembling hands.

"I got up to look for them because in the dream it felt like my world was coming to an end when I saw them. Now I know why."

"What are they?" Garrett asked quietly.

Tentatively she held them out and he took them from her. Sam got up to  switch on the lamp, and she blinked at the sudden wash of light.

Garrett stared at the papers in disbelief while Sam read over his shoulder with a similar look of incredulity.

Garrett looked back up at her. "These are dated before . . . before you left. What the hell?"

"Am I living a lie, Garrett? He said some terrible things before I left.  I don't remember everything. God, I wish I did. I only have bits and  pieces, but he was so angry. He wanted out. He accused me of having an  affair with you."

"Holy fuck," Sam muttered.

Garrett was still gaping at her like he couldn't wrap his brain around the accusation.

"Jesus, no. We never had an affair, Rachel. I swear it. It wasn't even a  thought. Shit, you're like my little sister. And it was always Ethan  for you. Since the day you two met there was never anyone else for you.  It was the same for him, or at least I thought so."

"I don't know what to do." She hated the miserable, helpless feeling  those words evoked. "He threw those papers at me the day I left for  South America. I left with the knowledge that my marriage was over. And  now a year later he loves me? None of that ever happened? How am I  supposed to reconcile the two versions of our marriage?"

Sam sat down on the other side of her and put his palms against his temples.

"Obviously there is a lot I didn't know-that we all didn't know-about  what was going on with you and Ethan before you left, but honey, it  nearly destroyed him when he thought you died. That was not a man who  didn't love you anymore and who wanted out of his marriage. He grieved  the entire year you were gone. The only sign of life we saw from him was  the day he got that package telling him you were alive. You were his  sole focus after that. Getting you back."

She held her hands up in confusion. "I don't know what to do. I know now  that I never went to any of his family with our problems. I wouldn't  have done that. I shouldn't be here now, but I had to know if I'd  somehow betrayed him."

Garrett's hand closed around hers. "You can always, always come to me,  sweet pea. Ethan is my brother. I love him. But you're family too. He  doesn't get a free pass just because he's a Kelly. I don't want you to  ever feel like you're alone."

She smiled tremulously and then silently cursed when more tears slid down her cheeks.

The phone rang, startling her. Sam reached over to answer it, and she  could hear Ethan's worried demand even from a few feet away.

Sam looked over at her.

"She's here, Ethan. She's fine. Just upset. No, I don't think it's a  good idea if you come over just yet. We'll bring her home if that's what  she wants later."

Sam held the phone away from his ear and shook his head.

"He hung up already. Guess he'll figure out a way over here."

Rachel gripped Garrett's hand tighter.

"You don't have to talk to him right now," Garrett said. "Sam and I can  toss him out and make him go back home. You get to call the shots here,  sweet pea. Okay? You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable  with."

"No, I need to know. I can't go on like this. I need to reconcile the  here and now with the past. Everything I've thought about my marriage  since coming home is a lie."

She closed her eyes to the pain those words sent through her heart. The  idea that she truly was alone frightened her. The idea that the husband  she'd come to love all over again was nothing more than a façade had the  power to kill her when a year in captivity hadn't. Had she survived the  impossible only to come home and die a slow death as she watched her  hopes and dreams wither?                       
       
           



       

Garrett pulled her into his arms and held her tight. He kissed the top  of her head and murmured words she couldn't decipher close to her ear.

"Hell of a day," Sam muttered.

"All I can wonder now is whether it was a relief for him when he thought I died," she whispered against Garrett's chest.

"Shhh, sweet pea. That's crazy talk. I was there when they told him. I  was there for your funeral. I've watched him become a shell of himself  for the last year. And I watched him when he held you again for the  first time. I don't know what happened before, but he loves you. He  loves you."

"I often wondered what went through his head when he came home after  your miscarriage and found Garrett staying at the house with you. At the  time I thought he was dealing with guilt over not being here with you,  but now I wonder if it wasn't jealousy. Or maybe it was a combination of  both."

Rachel stiffened and drew away from Garrett to stare at Sam. "I lost a baby?"

Sam closed his eyes and cursed. "Christ, I'm sorry. I forget that you  haven't remembered everything. I'm so sorry, honey. I wouldn't hurt you  for anything."

Her mind was frighteningly numb and blank. To her it certainly appeared  her life before her "death" was a complete and utter mess. Was it any  wonder she'd blocked the entire thing from her mind? Oh, she knew she  had the drugs to blame and that hers wasn't a case of hysterical amnesia  in the clinical sense, but now in the face of the truth, any sane  person would have wanted to forget.

She almost laughed. But she wasn't sane, was she? She felt precariously  on the edge, much like being on that bridge just hours ago. Teetering,  about to fall over, and with the sickening knowledge there was nothing  she could do about it.

"Tell me," she said faintly.

"You miscarried while Ethan was away on a mission," Garrett said  gruffly. "You were pretty sick afterward so I stayed with you at the  house when you got out of the hospital. Ethan got home a week later.  Soon after that he resigned his commission."

She managed a dry laugh. It was either that or sob hysterically. How  much more pitiful could her life get? She'd imagined she had the perfect  life and perfect marriage. Perfect family. Perfect everything. She  couldn't have been further from the truth.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered.

A loud knock at the front door precluded any further discussion of her  life or lack thereof, which was just as well. She was having the  discussion with the wrong people.

Fear gripped her as she stared nervously at Sam and Garrett. Ethan was  here. How could she face him knowing the truth? She wasn't sure she  could bear to look at the love that always softened his features and  know that none of it was real.

"You don't have to talk to him now," Sam said gently. "He won't get in  here unless I let him. You can stay as long as you like. You can go back  home. Just tell us what you want. We'll make it happen."