Page 106 of All for Love

MERCEDES

Being alone with Brooke and my mother was awful. I’d rather have major surgery without anesthesia than sit through one more minute of this.

They sat together on one sofa while I sat on the other. We all cradled our red wine like babies cuddling with their bottles, but I felt like all they could think about was how much of a homewrecker I was. How out of line my relationship with Kody had been. How selfish and how crude I was. How disgusting.

As Brooke took another sip of her wine and glanced in the direction of the solarium again like she couldn’t wait for Kaden to get back, I decided I’d had enough. Clearly, she wasn’t interested in actually talking to us.

She just wanted him to come back inside while I didn’t have it in me to face Kody again. Mom looked a little lost, like the raging fire that had been burning in her last weekend had left nothing but a husk that had been running only on fumes of desperation for a perfect Christmas Eve earlier.

In all the time we’d been alone, none of us had said much. Brooke had commented on how pretty the lights had been. Mom had said that she was glad we’d gone to look at them, and then there had been nothing but silence.

This whole night had been a string of awkward silences, meaningless forced chatter, and sharp words. It wasn’t exactly the kind of Christmas song one wanted to have playing in your house this time of year, and I couldn’t do it anymore.

I just didn’t have it in me. Getting up, I drained the last of my wine before I sent them an apologetic smile. “Please excuse me. I’m going to go to bed.”

“It’s still so early, darling,” Mom protested, looking at me with big, sad eyes. “Stay just a while longer. Have another drink.”

I couldn’t. As much as I wanted her to be happy, I was all out of juice for today. More tears welled in my eyes, and I shook my head and forced words out of my mouth. “I can’t, Mom. Good night.”

With that, I made for the stairs and rushed up to my room. Mr. Wagner had sent someone to my car earlier to fetch my things, so I hadn’t even had that excuse for a few minutes alone, and I was desperate for that now. To just be alone.

As I rushed upstairs, I heard Mother calling up to me, but I didn’t turn back. I really just couldn’t. I had that clawing, suffocating desire to scream, and cry, and mourn, but I couldn’t do any of that with them. In front of them. Not without more judgment and a few more arguments. Not without being called a few more names and being told that what I was feeling wasn’t valid because I never should’ve let it go that far to begin with.

I couldn’t go through that again. Not right now. I was sure it would come my way again tomorrow and then I would be forced to sit there and take it. To try to remain calm and quiet while I was told all about how horrible I was. And I was horrible. I got that. I’d done wrong and I was paying for it. Dearly.

I ran to the guest bedroom that was mine for the night and quietly closed the door behind me. I barely got it locked before my shoulders slumped and a sob tore out of me. I almost collapsed right there at the door, but I made myself march to the bathroom. I tried to take my makeup off, but it stung when I couldn’t hold back the tears for long enough to remove it all before the waterworks demanded on being turned on.

Red-hot frustration coursed through my veins at the same time as the intense grief over the end of the relationship that never should’ve been. All the while, I stared at my pitiful reflection in the mirror, scolding myself for being such a complete fuck-up.

My cheeks were shiny and wet, my makeup running all over the place as my nose scrunched up and my brow furrowed. I was ugly crying in the worst way possible, and I watched myself doing it so that I could remind myself of why I was doing it up here all alone.

I’ve ruined such an amazing thing for my mother. Now, whenever she thinks back on her honeymoon phase with the man she’d chosen to grow old with, she’s going to remember this mess.I hung my head in shame.

I honestly couldn’t believe it had come to this. I didn’t know how to deal with any of it. Not at all. All I knew was that I was absolutely wrecked in every way and it didn’t feel like it was ever going to get any better.

Screw vacationing in Hawaii or Fiji next year. I should just move there and start over.

A knock at my door jerked me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t moved away from the bathroom mirror and I’d given up on trying to remove the makeup. As I stared at my puffy, wet-faced reflection, another knock rang out.

“Go away,” I called, knowing I was being rude and hoping that my mother wasn’t about to scold me for it through the door.

The knock came again, more persistent, and then I finally heard a voice coming from the other side of the door, but it wasn’t my mother’s. It was Kody’s. “Mercedes? Could you open up please? Just for a minute?”

More pain streaked through me, but he was the only person in this house I’d make the effort for. On the off chance that he was feeling all the same, horrible things I was, the least I could do was open the damn door.

I dragged my feet across the carpet, but I turned the key in the lock, and as soon as he heard it, he pushed the door open. Those blue eyes swept across my face. Then his brows mashed together and his voice was suddenly strained.

“You’ve been crying,” he murmured. “Can I come in?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to be alone with you. Or no. Correction, I do want to be alone with you. I just don’t want the others to know.”

“Fuck ‘em.” He brushed past me and shut the door. Then he sat at the edge of my bed and beckoned to me. “Come here.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he insisted as he held out his hand. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What?”