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“Damn it, there’s my husband.”
“You didn’t drive today?”
“No, I wanted to pick up some things I ordered, that’s why I told him to come and get me, but of course he can’t even get that right and shows up in my car! Gah, the man’s incompetence knows no bounds. So, I’ll call you?” She asked as she stepped toward the curb toward a flashy sedan.
“Of course,” I said as she thought better of leaving me with a promise of a phone
call then hugged me. I hugged her back in surprise as she spoke.
“Thanks for, well . . . everything. I’ll text you. I swear I will.”
“Sounds great. Good luck,” I said. “With everything. And try not to kill him.”
She laughed and took a step back before opening the door and lashing out. “Jefferson, I told you to bring the SUV.”
Curious, I peeked in the car, a nervous smile on my face for the poor man who was probably humiliated by being talked to like an infant.
Somewhere in my imagination, I expected to see a prematurely balding man or something less desirable and was pleasantly surprised when I took in his wool trench coat, well-fitted suit, but froze when I met his ocean green eyes.
No.
My eyes traced the five o’clock shadow that hours prior had left fresh marks on my breasts, between my thighs, and on my neck.
The man stared back at me, stunned, as his wife got into the car and berated him while my heart shattered on the sidewalk.
No.
My throat burned as my soul tore away and threatened departure.
“What are you waiting for?” she snapped, following his gaze to meet mine. “Oh, yeah, Abbie, this is my husband, Jefferson. Jefferson, Abbie.”
Eyes locked, I coughed out a sob as my chest screamed with ache.
Neither of us said a word as she shut the door after muttering an, “I’ll call you, okay? Thanks again, Abbie.”
I could hear her incessant but muffled bitching as Cameron sat behind the wheel, his eyes still fixed on mine.
No.
No.
That’s not him. That’s not the man I love.
This can’t be wrong. This can’t be wrong. I wasn’t wrong.
Another sob I couldn’t hold back escaped as I let myself break on the cement. There was no saving me, nothing to catch me as I toppled over, helpless, and splintered into millions of tiny pieces.
And every single one of those pieces loved him.
I dropped my bag and looked down at my hands, expecting them to be filthy. What had I done? What had he done to me? Why!? A scream lay idle on my tongue.
I shook my head feverishly, refusing to believe that the man in the car was mine. Because he wasn’t. He had never been.
The blood left my face as the driver door opened and he stood to face me over the hood of the car.
“Abbie, look at me.”
Helpless, I looked to my love and best friend for help. But it was all wrong because he was the one responsible for the bleeding.
