AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I sit on the couch, my body almost feeling numb because I can’t believe this is really over, and Victoria is dead. For the first time in five years, I feel free.
Chapter Eighteen
GEMMA
My life as I know it is changing, and all my freedoms are gone. Every day, a black cloud seems to hang over me, and I can’t get away from it. At work, Tyler and I have kept our distance, but sometimes, I find myself staring at him, longing to be close again.
The last time I spoke with him, he quickly explained that Victoria died, and Everleigh witnessed it. She had told me what happened, something about a lovers’ spat and a shooting outside her house, but I hadn’t pieced the two together. Victoria did terrible things to Tyler and Eric that changed the entire outcomes of their lives. I was just shocked that her boyfriend came here to take care of the problem. I’m so relieved for Tyler, knowing he now has the freedom he’s been seeking since he met that woman. It might not have been the kind of justice he was after, but justice was definitely served for what that woman has done to people.
After having lunch alone, I get a group text from Katie and Everleigh, and that’s when the dread really settles in.
Everleigh: I know the circumstances aren’t really ideal, but since you’re getting married in two days, I think we should have some fun. Let us throw you a bachelorette party tomorrow night. We can drive over to Nashville and do it up real big! Cowboy strippers and lots of alcohol!
Katie: I would totally save a horse and ride a cowboy. Count me in!
Everleigh: Gemma?
I swallow down the lump in my throat, not in the mood to celebrate my defeat. It’s not a happy moment, and I feel as though I’m planning my funeral. I find some courage and text them back.
Gemma: I’d rather not go all out, if possible. Can we have drinks here instead?
Katie: I’m fine with whatever you wanna do! It’s your choice.
The knife drives in deeper, and I don’t know what to say. They’re just trying to be nice when I’d rather just hide away from it all. We’re all trying to make the best of a shitty situation.
Everleigh: Gemma…you really don’t have to go through with this. We’re here to support you.
I’ve had to reiterate my decision to them both so much over the past week like a broken record. They’re aware of how I feel about Robert and the ultimatum he gave me. And though I’ve tried to convince them this is the right thing to do to save my dad’s home, they’re not convinced no matter how many times I say it.
Gemma: I know. Appreciate and love you both so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
I think about Tyler. I think about everything we’ve shared. I think about that night that I went over to his house and explained everything. What I’m being forced to do makes me feel sick. If I could blink and take away every moment that Robert and I spent together, I would. They say people learn something from every relationship, but the only thing I learned is I trusted him too much.
After work, I leave and go to his house where I’ve been forced to stay since he moved my shit there. Robert shows up late as I’m warming up a frozen entree. While I’d rather pretend he’s not home, he forces my attention to him.
“You look like utter shit,” he hisses as soon as he sees me. He doesn’t sit but rather crosses his arms. “When you quit your job, I expect you to look put together and at least try. I won’t have you staying home, lounging in filth like this.”
I have no energy to argue with him. “What do you want?”
The quicker he says what he needs to say, the sooner he’ll leave me alone, and right now, I want my distance from him more than anything.
“There’s one more thing we need to add to our agreement,” he says with a pushy edge to his tone as if I’m one of his clients and still need to sign on the dotted line. Though he may have gotten the upper end of the deal—considering he wants me to have his children, quit my job, and play the role of the perfect housewife and mother for the rest of my life—I plan to get the last laugh. Happy wife, happy life, right? I can guarantee I’ll be miserable, and so will he.
“What is it?” When the microwave dings, I grab my shitty enchiladas and a fork, then plop on the couch. He looks so damn offended that I’m not eating at the kitchen table and will probably explode at any second now. Crossing his arms, he moves where he’s in my view and blocks the TV.
