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A pounding on the door made me jump.
“Dani, are you . . . all right?”
Was that a real question?
“Dani,” his voice became more urgent.
I immersed my head into the shower’s spray and ignored him.
The pounding on the door got louder and his voice more frantic. “Dani, please answer me.” He banged some more. “Dani! Dani! Dani!” he screamed, panic and terror in his voice. “I’m coming in.”
No he wasn’t. I pulled my head out of the water. “Leave me alone,” I yelled as loud as I could.
The pounding and screaming stopped, replaced with only the sound of the water trickling over me.
“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked, piercing through the soothing sound of the water and my heart. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
Me either, but I was going to fix it.
I lay in bed that night, curled up in a ball, so emotionally and physically achy. The pain in my back was almost as acute as the one in my heart. It made it hard to think of an exit strategy. And the nausea was back. I wanted Grandma. But I couldn’t tell her I was pregnant, and if she saw me this sick, I knew she would insist I see a doctor. Maybe I had the flu—yet this felt different. Perhaps it was just my emotional state manifesting in physiological ways. All I knew was that I had to make it all better for the baby.
I thought about calling Brant to see if he could give me a better idea of what Edward was capable of and what he held over John’s head. Maybe he could help me. Although I knew that was probably dangerous. What if his phone was bugged or someone overheard? That sounded paranoid, yet I wouldn’t put it past Edward. And what did Edward know? It was bad enough that John was scared, that much I knew. And if he was scared, I should be terrified. Scared people were irrational. I knew John would do anything to protect his legacy and his family’s reputation. Where did that leave me?
Alone.
All night I shifted, trying to get comfortable while I thought of ways to escape, but the pain and nausea muddled my brain. All I could come up with was making the public and Brock think I’d had an affair so that Brock would be humiliated enough to divorce me. I wouldn’t really cheat, just make everyone believe I had. However, I couldn’t stomach the thought of humiliating Brock so publicly or damaging Children to Love in the process. Though if I followed through on that plan, I would leave Colorado forever.
If only I could disappear.
The night seemed to drag into an abysmal darkness of thought, punctuated by bouts of pain. I think I drifted off to sleep a few times only to be woken up by my thoughts and the urge to vomit. But I couldn’t bring myself to get up. I wanted to stay in bed forever and hide from the world. Around five in the morning, I realized that wasn’t an option. I also realized I’d never heard a peep out of Brock during the night. I wondered if he hadn’t slept either. Maybe he was coming up with a plan for us to divorce too. I hoped it was better than mine.
I forced myself to get up, hoping that moving around would help me feel better. It didn’t. I got dressed anyway. I needed to be out of Brock’s house. I needed work. A reminder that I was capable of doing good things. A reason to keep trying despite the pain. Not that I didn’t carry reason enough. I held my stomach. I’m going to make it okay, baby. Somehow.
I didn’t even bother with makeup; I only threw my hair up in a messy bun. Sadly, I probably could have done with some makeup. My olive skin was pale, and my eyes were puffy from crying all night. I took some Tylenol, hoping it would help my back feel better. The ache was persistent. I almost gagged getting down the pills and water. Maybe I really did have a stomach bug. Regardless, I had to go. I would lock myself in my office away from everyone.
As I walked down the hall in the semidarkness, I noticed Brock’s light was on in his room. It wasn’t surprising, since he slept with it on every night. I paused for a moment, wondering if I were to just ask him for a divorce, if he would figure out a way. Surely that’s what he wanted too. But I was too tired to feel any more hurt.
I tiptoed down the stairs to gather my laptop and papers before heading out into the cold, dark morning. When I opened the garage door, I looked out into the sky, barely being tickled by the sun. A line of orange punctuated the horizon, trying its best to overtake the black night sky. Staring at it, I could feel the fight. As powerful as the sun was, she still had to struggle. Yet in the end, she would come out the victor. She would rise high in the sky, dispersing the darkness.
