Chapter 21
A lie
Ifeel restless.
The house is full of people. I thought Rick and I would spend the day together, talking about what needed to be done. I wanted to tell him my thoughts in private about reaching out to the kidnapper again. Maybe I could talk to them, find out something, anything, but once again, he had other plans he didn’t share with me.
It’s hard to trust someone who doesn’t offer you the tools to do so. I’m struggling to rationalize the man who demands I give him my complete blind faith in his ability to save our daughter. He wants me to trust him to get the job done, but at the same time, he gives me nothing in return.
This morning, I jumped in the shower after he walked out with a towel slung low around his narrow hips. I thought we would talk today and be honest with each other, but I was wrong.
While I was in the shower, Rick was busy making phone calls and putting his own plans in place. And when I came downstairs in leggings and a T-shirt, the house was full of people.
“We brought takeout,” Captain Black says as he and Jules walk in the front door. The house is already filled with Jake and Grace, Joe and Gus, and Wes. I’ve clearly missed a lot while my head was in the clouds.
“And coffee,” she adds. “Lots and lots of coffee.”
“What’s all this?” I ask, and Grace cringes.
I can tell by the look on her face that she knew this was coming last night and kept the truth from me. All it takes is one look around the room to realize they all knew, and no one said a goddamned thing. My face heats with embarrassment. I always knew I didn’t belong in this tight-knit crowd. This group of wealthy, powerful people, and me, the girl who grew up poor in foster care, the one puzzle piece that never quite fit.
The hot tears from this unbearable realization sting the backs of my eyes. They all see it. I never hid a damn thing from them while I was playing pretend. Pretending I didn’t love Rick. Pretending I could have it all. I’ve spent the last few days living in his house and forgetting that in the end I wouldn’t have a goddamned thing.
I rub the back of my hand against my temple where a pulse is begging to throb.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee, honey?” Jules asks gently.
“No,” I answer just a little too sharply to be believable as anything I tried to pass off, and we all know it, so I give them the partial truth. “I have a headache. I think I had just a little too much champagne last night.”
“Okay, but—” she starts, and I can’t let her finish. I’ll lose it. I’ll lose my tight hold on the control I have on my emotions. I can’t cry in front of these people who aren’t bad people; they’re just not my people, and they never were. It’s not their fault they’ve had each other for a lifetime, and I’ve had no one. I have to let them go without making them feel guilty for it.
“I’m just going to lie down,” I say quickly. “Let me know if you need me.”
I turn and look at Rick, my words holding more meaning for him. He stands the farthest away from where I am, casually leaning against the counter. He watches me. Rick watches every damn move I make. He watches me struggle to breathe, to get out of the room fast enough.
And he doesn’t say one word to stop me.
I take three steps casually, and then as soon as I’m out of their sight, I scurry up the stairs like a little rat. I hate it. I hate this is me, butit is me. This is what I do; I run.
I make it into the master bedroom, and I quickly lock the door behind me. I couldn’t bear it if someone saw me so pathetically broken and alone. I need to emerge from this with at least some tiny shreds of my dignity and pride left so I can find my daughter and leave. Maybe we’ll settle in New Mexico this time. Or even Sedona. I hear the desert is beautiful in winter.
But is it fair to take Rachel from her father?Again. It’s not, and in my head, I know that. My broken heart has absolutely nothing to do with his ability as a dad.
I look around and see Rick’s domain. The dark furniture and gray bedding. The lack of bright color and decoration. There’s a handful of my stuff around the room, but that’s it. My lotion on the bedside table with my cell phone plugged into the charger. My bright floral-print robe is draped over the chair in the corner, and the earrings he gave me sit in a little floral ceramic dish on the dresser.
Seeing them reminds me of all he said and did to show me that we were an us.
And it was all a lie.
My hands shake as I raise them up in front of me. My breath is thready as it saws in and out of my chest, and the tear I held back in the kitchen spills and rolls down my cheek. Another follows quickly on its heels.
And then with my thumb and index finger, I slide the gold and diamond band off my forever finger. It was never meant to wear any adornment there. I’m not meant to belong to anyone or have anyone belong to me.
I drop it in the bowl with the beautiful earrings and all the promises they held and let the rest of my heart shatter.
I look over my shoulder to the bed that this morning felt like it held so much love and promises between two people who were devoted to each other. Now, it feels like it was just another stack of lies and unkept promises.
I look back to the door. It stands there like a heavy symbol of the wall between the two camps, the dichotomy between everyone and me. I could straighten myself out and go back out there. I could continue to pretend they aren’t all lying to me. That they care about me and my daughter, when their loyalties lie with Rick and Rick alone.
