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9
The Truth Comes Out
Chloe's eyesgo wide as she shakes her head.
I've made a mistake. I've ruined his proposal with my uncertainty. My past has slowly crept into my relationship and interfered.
Most importantly, I've allowed it.
If I'd only been honest with Adam from the start. Not that there was a good time to bring it up, but he made time to tell me about Sawyer, and when it could have been my turn to share my horrors with him, I chose to keep my mouth shut.
It's more about pushing the memories away. I don't want to relive that part of my past. I'm not that person anymore, and as much as that experience has shaped the woman I've become, it's also a reminder of the person I once was.
Insecure.
Hopeless.
Scared.
All things I feel right now as Adam stands behind me, waiting for me to answer him.
Pulling me in for a hug, Chloe whispers in my ear "It's going to be fine. Everything is going to work out the way it should."
As reassuring as her words are, my heart refuses to calm down. It's running a marathon in my chest, more than likely attempting to break out and run away.
Fear is a fickle beast.
When you allow fear in your heart, in your head, you give it all the power. You submit to its every whim.
I've never been a fan of feeling like this. I doubt anyone enjoys living in fear, whether it be for a few minutes or a longer span of time.
You feel helpless, at the mercy of another person.
Right now, I'm at the mercy of Adam's decision.
Once I come clean, he may not want me anymore. Not as his wife. Not as his girlfriend. Certainly not as the mother of his child. The woman who is supposed to be a role model yet is dishonest about their past.
Wyatt and Chloe retreat into the house, but they don't go far. Taking a seat on the couch in the living room, I can see Chloe cautiously watching me.
"Addison. What's going on?"
The sound of his voice makes my heart skip a beat. There's no malice or anger hidden beneath the surface. He's confused and worried. Two feelings I'm sure will change in the next five minutes.
Turning to face him, he smiles, but I don't mirror his actions.
"We need to talk," I say.
The words of death for any relationship. As soon as they cross my lips, I see the sudden change in his demeanor, and he actually takes a step back.
"Here or at the house?" he asks, squaring his shoulders and standing to his full height.
"Let's go home," I reply. My voice cracks as I speak, my attempt to sound hopeful falling flat.
Nodding, he walks past me into the house and returns a few minutes later with my purse. My mind whirls with possible outcomes of our unavoidable conversation as I follow Adam’s car across town. He’s either going to hate me, pity me, or forgive me. I don’t want his pity, but I’ll take it over his hate.
"Addison Marie,what is going on with you? Running around in your pajamas, turning down Liam. Next, you’re going to tell me he hit you and that's why you have a bruise on your jaw."
Her shock doesn't surprise me. It's the fact she brought up my bruised face. I've covered it every day even though I haven't been leaving the house. It was barely visible last I checked and in the shadows of the parking lot, I'm not sure how she noticed it.
