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“He what? He’s in Portland? Oh, you just wait until I get—”
“Calm down so you don’t scare the kids.”
“Cadence, this isn’t a calm down sort of moment.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, let’s think about this for a moment, hmm?” She kept her voice down this time, but the intensity was still ramped up. “What was he doing here? After he fucking dropped you, after he made you have a fucking miscarriage, what the fuck does he think he’s doing here?”
I shook my head, trying to defuse her. Instead of coming home, I should have gone straight to Wendy’s office and begged for a quick session. Something. Anything but let Sara see how much Guy’s drop-in had upset me. But I hadn’t, and now she was flying off the deep end. If I didn’t calm her down and convince her I was fine, there was no telling what she might do. Like tell Cam.
“I don’t honestly know what he wants,” I said. “I mean, he was talking like he couldn’t live without me. Stuff like that.”
“He’s going to have to live without you. I’m not letting that son of a bitch anywhere close to you.” She stopped short, causing Connor to jerk against the end of his leash and stumble back a few steps until he landed on his butt. He laughed maniacally, but he didn’t seem hurt at all. Sara stared into my eyes, hers a little wild. “What did Anthony do? And your coach?”
“Ellen was already working with her next class. Anthony stayed close.”
“How close?”
“Close enough.”
“Hmph.” She started walking again, though. “Do you think Guy’s leaving now? Is he done fucking with you, or will he come back?”
I shrugged. “No idea.” Only that was a lie, just like everything I’d said to Anthony about what Guy wanted was a lie. There was one thing I understood without a doubt about Guy, and it was that he never gave up easily. If dissuading him were possible, he never would have shown up in Portland. He would have been out of my life as soon as I’d informed him I was done with him.
But that hadn’t happened. There’d been weeks of phone calls, text messages, emails, notes left on the front door of my house or under the wiper blade of my car. He’d come by and pounded on the door, demanding that I let him in so we could talk. After a while, he’d let it drop, only to pick up with the obsessiveness again after a month of silence. That had repeated time and again until I’d left. Until I’d come to Portland.
And now he was here.
I had a very good idea about what Guy wanted and whether he would leave now. Once again, I felt myself being pulled under by a powerful tide, and I didn’t understand how to free myself from it.
Sara scowled. “Other than trying to get you back, did he say anything?”
I shrugged. Again. It was my go-to defense mechanism. I had always done that around Guy, because he never wanted me to answer him. He only wanted to act like he’d asked for my opinion, like he was taking my feelings into consideration.
“Nothing?” she demanded.
“He knows about Levi,” I said quietly. I wasn’t certain why I’d said anything at all.
“Bet he can’t stand knowing you’ve got a good man in your life.”
“It’s not like that with Levi,” I argued. Too quickly. Even I heard the defensiveness in my response.
“You don’t think he’ll do anything there, do you?”
I shook my head. It was only me Guy would hurt. Wasn’t it? But I’d never thought he would actually hurt me until the day he’d dropped me so I would miscarry. And it was all because, when he’d suggested I should have an abortion, I’d told him I needed time to think about it first. I hadn’t wanted to run off the same day and have the procedure done. I’d needed to figure out how I felt about it, but Guy hadn’t allowed me that. If he’d been able to so casually hurt me physically, what else was he capable of, given the right circumstances? I honestly wasn’t sure anymore.
“We should tell the police,” Sara said.
“Tell them what? That my ex-partner came to my practice and asked me to come back to him?”
“More like that your ex-partner who has fucking abused you before came to your practice because he’s fucking stalking you,” she said.
“You’re seriously exaggerating what is going on here.” Wasn’t she? She had to be. Or was I actually trying to convince myself of that, but really, she was right?
Days like this, I couldn’t decide if I would rather be an adult or a kid. Adults had to actually deal with things like this, but kids had to be told what to do.
Which was better now?
