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Have I stepped into the twilight zone? Because I have no idea what’s going on. “What did he say?” She clearly has her wires crossed.
When she hesitates, a shiver passes through me. “He told me that you were going through a tough time, as all couples do, and that you were…”
“I was what?” I ask, standing because I suddenly have the urge to be sick.
“That you were a little rash in your decision making. He recently had an accident, and you were still…recovering.”
“Recovering from what?” My voice is high pitched and flighty because I have no clue what is going on.
“Recovering from an…episode where you had…a lapse in judgment.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I’m done with her dancing around the topic at hand. “Hayley, please don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you talking about?”
She pauses, as my vulgarity is uncalled for, but what in the ever-living hell is happening.
“He said that you’d suffered a mental breakdown after his accident and not to pay any attention to your emails. Your house wasn’t for sale. No matter what you said.”
“That’s impossible.” I shake my head, frozen to the spot.
“Maybe I have the wrong person. Hang on.” Please let there be some error. But when she says, “Your house is Whispering Willows? Is that correct?” I know the only error was mine—an error of judgment for ever trusting Sam.
“Yes, that’s my home.” My pulse begins to spike as rage overtakes confusion.
“I am so sorry. I just thought…Samuel was very convincing.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. And yes, Samuel can be very convincing when he wants to be.” I’m living proof of his deceit.
Hayley apologizes profusely, but I hang up before I explode. I don’t want to do that because she is not the person my anger is directed at. I need a minute. Actually, I need two.
I can’t believe I fell for his lies…again. Fury bubbles to the surface.
Not thinking, I throw my cell against the wall, and it shatters on impact. But the anger just keeps rising. According to Hayley, Sam never contacted her. And when I did, he told her I was crazy. No wonder she never returned my emails!
A thought so farfetched enters my mind—what else has he been lying about? This entire time I trusted him, but what if it’s all been in vain?
There is only one way to find out, and I plan on doing that right now. Almost ripping the door from its hinges, I march down the hallway, adrenaline soaring through me. A whispered voice coming from inside Sam’s bedroom alerts me to where he is.
Just as I’m about to storm in and demand answers, a small voice inside me tells me to stop and listen. More answers are within reach. So I do. “I can’t lie to her anymore. This is the woman I love.”
Covering my mouth with both hands, I don’t dare breathe.
“No, I’m done. I’m telling her everything. It was your idea to fake the accident, the blackouts, and to wear this fucking cast!” I rest against the wall, peering around the doorjamb.
Sam’s back is turned, but his slumped shoulders confess a thousand words. Who is he talking to?
“You’re one fucked-up individual. I think you’re the one who needs therapy.” Whomever he’s speaking to is giving him an earful. “Go ahead. Tell him. I already know I’m a dead man when he finds out. But she is worth it. I have done all this because I love her. But you, you’ve done what you have for revenge.”
Goose bumps coat my skin as his ominous premonition has my blood running cold.
“We’re done. Do not call me again.” He hangs up, clenching his cell in his palm.
I don’t know what’s going on. It’s like I’m reliving my worst nightmare over and over again. Unable to stand this displacement a second longer, I push open the door and make my presence known. Sam spins, the guilt painted all over his face. He knows his ruse is up.
“Who were you speaking with?”
Running a hand through his hair, he exhales in surrender. “No one.”
But I’m done playing. “Oh, really? Well, I just had a very interesting conversation with Hayley Regan. Remember her? The woman you were supposed to call but never actually did.”
