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Steam filled it, a heated mist that he sloshed through until he was standing two feet from the shower, getting there at the exact same time that Brianna turned off the faucet and pulled back the curtain.
She gasped when she saw him, though a giggle toppled from her when she slurred, “Ezra, you scared the hell out of me.”
“I scared the hell out of you? After you’ve been gone for two days without a word? Are you fucking kidding me, Brianna?”
He choked over the disbelief. Over the worry that had nearly suffocated him. The fear and the dread that had dragged his feet through each step of the day, and the pain that had cut him up and left him bleeding out as he’d been unable to sleep through the last two nights.
And here she was, blitzed out of her mind.
“Where were you?” The demand sliced through the thick mist that clung to the small room.
She stepped out of the shower to grab a towel from the hook. “My therapist told me I should take a couple days to work through some things.”
“Without letting me—”
He nearly got knocked flat on his ass when he saw them.
Words clipping off.
Unable to speak.
Handprints.
All over her hips. Her ass. The fronts and backs of her thighs.
Black and purpled where fingertips had burrowed in deep.
Lightheadedness stumbled him back a step, and he gripped his head as shock blasted through his being.
He hadn’t wanted to believe it, even though that’s where his suspicions had gone, the way she’d act when she’d come stumbling back home at all hours of the night, the way he was sure he could smell someone all over her.
He’d wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Support her through whatever she was going through.
Now, there was no fucking question what those prints meant.
The shock wore off to reveal the disgust waiting underneath.
That last speck of love he’d held for her plucked out like a thorn that had infected his heart.
“You’re fucking someone?” His voice was a fusion of sharp betrayal and sickened acceptance. He’d known, after all, hadn’t he?
Frantic, Brianna wound herself in the towel and took a surging step toward him. She grabbed him by the wrist. “No.”
He wrenched his arm from her hold. “Don’t lie to me, Brianna. I’m so sick of the lies.” A resentful chuckle left him. “You know what, how about you don’t say anything to me at all?”
He stormed from the bathroom because he couldn’t be in that room with her for one second longer.
She was right behind him. “No, Ezra. No. I…I fell at work…and one of the nurses helped me up. You need to listen to me—”
“Save it, Brianna, because I don’t believe a word you say.” He headed for the bedroom door.
Needing out.
Away.
Hands fisted in the back of his shirt. “No, Ezra. Please. I need you. I need you. I can’t live without you. Please. I’m just…I feel too many things and it’s too much. I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
He tried to wind himself free. To break away.
“Please.”
His mind flashed to their wedding day.
To the vows that had been given.
To the ring on his finger.
I’ll stand by you, through thick and thin. When things are going good, but more importantly, when things are going rough.
He fisted his hand, the band a glaring reminder of the promise he had made.
“Please,” Brianna begged again. “I’ll get help. I promise. It will be the last time.”
Resigned, he turned to her. “It has to be, Brianna. Because if it happens again, I’m leaving and I’m taking the kids with me.”
“I promise.”
He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her against him.
Except holding her?
It felt hollow.
Empty.
Like it was no longer what he was supposed to do.
TWENTY-NINE
EZRA
It was close to eleven on Saturday night when I twisted the cap off a beer and headed out onto the back porch where I plunked down in a white rocking chair. I figured I’d grab myself a moment to clear my head. Take a fresh breath.
Relax.
The October air was cool and crisp, verging on cold, and filled with the quiet call of the night. The whoosh of the branches as a breeze rustled through the trees. The drone of crickets. The hoot of the owl who’d made himself a home in the eaves of the shed that sat a darkened silhouette on the farthest side of the yard.
I took a long pull of my beer, trying not to itch, laughing under my breath at myself for thinking I’d come out here to actually relax.
That I’d find a moment of it.
Not when I knew the real reason I was out here was because I couldn’t get Savannah off my mind, and the only thing I could do was take a few steps in her direction.
The kids were spending the night out at the ranch with Paisley and Caleb, having a sleepover with their cousin Evelyn.
