Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Nate and Derek sat on the deck that evening while Krissa worked on dinner in the kitchen. Nate itched to be inside with her, helping her, laughing with her, debating over whether to steam or roast the vegetables, reliving the excitement of the show the evening before.

“So,” Derek said. “This is great that your eyes are better. You’re probably dying to get back to your photography.”

“Yeah.” Except…he wasn’t.

On the drive home that afternoon, he’d been amazed to realize that he didn’t need the sunglasses. He wore them anyway, because it was California and it was sunny, but he could take them off and only feel a minor prickle. He should have been ecstatic. He was happy. All along, that’s all he’d wanted. He’d been demolished to think he may never be able to take photographs again.

Yeah, it was a huge fucking relief to know that his eyes were going to be okay. They still weren’t a hundred percent but they were a helluva lot better. And yet—the idea of leaving again was about as appealing as having open-heart surgery.

“We need to check into the sperm donor thing,” Derek said. “See if you can still do that. Just in case.”

Nate gave a crooked smile. “Yeah. Just in case. Just in case I’m shooting blanks, too. Who knows?”

“You know you aren’t,” Derek said. “You got Lauren pregnant.”

Nate opened his mouth to reply. He paused with his coffee mug half way to his mouth.

Everything slowed…faded away…stopped.

He stared at Derek. What the fuck?

“What did you say?”

Derek turned his face back from gazing out at the ocean and met Nate’s eyes. Nate could actually see the horrified realization sliding over him—his eyes widen, then narrow, his mouth open, then close.

“Uh…”

Nate rose slowly to his feet. “How the hell would you know Lauren was pregnant?”

“You…uh…told me.”

Nate shook his head. “No. We hadn’t told anyone. She didn’t tell anybody. Except the man she was screwing around with.”

Derek’s face reddened. His eyes shifted sideways.

“Jesus Christ.” Nate just stared at Derek. His mind reeled. His lungs froze and his vision grew dark.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. He rubbed his face, shook his head. “You fucking son of a bitch. You were having an affair with my wife.”

Derek’s eyes darted to the sliding doors into the house, no doubt worried about Krissa overhearing this. “Shh,” he said.

Fury swelled up in Nate. He was shushing him?

“You…you screwed around with her. While I was in Thailand. How could you do that?”

“You’re screwing around with my wife right now.”

Nate’s chin almost hit the wooden deck. Derek was throwing that in his face? Now?

It was true. Dear God, it was true. But, Christ, it was nowhere near the same thing.

Or was it? Sharp heat flashed over him like a blowtorch.

He shook his head slowly. “You fucking asshole. You asked me to screw your wife.”

“How did you know Lauren was having an affair?” Derek asked, brows drawn together. “Did she tell you?”

Nate glared at him with disgust. “No. She never told me. After she died, I read her journal. She had written pages and pages about the man she was in love with. Pages about what they’d done, what they’d said. How they’d talked about her being pregnant and whether it was his or my baby.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I guess we know the answer to that question now.”

“Uh…yeah.” Derek’s face crumpled. He covered it with his hands. “Jesus.”

“Yeah. All these years of wondering.”

“You weren’t the only one wondering,” Derek said heavily. “Do you know how guilty I felt because I may have knocked up someone else and couldn’t even get my own wife pregnant?”

Nate stared at him. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? Are you out of your mind?”

Derek grimaced.

“That was my wife you could have ‘knocked up’,” Nate ground out, his throat tight and aching. “But now we know it wasn’t you. Now I know I had a child who died in that car crash along with my wife. Fuck!”

He thrust his hands into his hair, held his skull and turned away from Derek. This could not be happening. This was a bad dream. Not real.

Then he thought about Krissa. “You haven’t told Krissa, have you?”

“No. Of course not.” There was a pause. “You’re not…”

Nate swung around and studied his friend contemptuously. “That woman is so incredible—she’s sweet and loving and beautiful. She lives to please you, Derek. She’d do anything for you.” His lip curled as he recalled the things she’d done. “Anything. And you did that to her. Christ.” He shook his head.

“I love her,” Derek said hoarsely. “Don’t tell her. Please, Nate.”

Nate gazed at him for a long moment. A million thoughts ran through his mind.

And he knew then—he loved her too.

He should tell Krissa. She should know the truth about her husband. About her marriage.

But how could he do that to her? She loved Derek, was committed to her marriage and to the child she could be carrying even now.

At that moment, Nate’s gut churned and he had to swallow hard several times, saliva accumulating in his mouth.

“This isn’t the only time you’ve cheated on her, is it?” It was a bad feeling he’d had since he’d arrived in Montecito. “Never mind.” He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

He shook his head again, trying to clear it, walked to the railing of the deck and gazed out at the ocean. Big puffs of white scudded across the evening sky. The wind roughened the ocean, deepened the waves crashing onto shore below them. He gripped the railing so tightly he felt the wood digging into his palms.

Then he turned, had to get away from Derek, ran down the stairs to the beach. His feet clattered on the wooden steps until he hit the sand, and he almost staggered as his feet sank into the softness. He took long, uneven steps over the beach till he reached the smooth firmness of wet sand. He gulped in the sea air, tipped his head back, pushed a hand through his hair.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

He walked until he reached his rock, sank down onto it, cool and hard beneath his ass. He faced the ocean, but didn’t see it. The breeze blew his hair back off his face but he barely noticed it. He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, held his head in his hands. If he’d thought he’d felt pain and betrayal when Lauren had died, it was nothing compared to this. And it wasn’t even for himself that he felt the worst. He ached for Krissa.

He tried to weigh things in his mushy mind, tried to make sense of it. He couldn’t help the thought that if Krissa knew about Derek and Lauren, she’d leave Derek. She could be his. His alone.

Hope and excitement leaped in him at the thought.

He loved her. He wanted to be with her, always. If she knew Derek was screwing around on her, she’d leave him. They could be together, just the two of them. Fuck Derek.

He turned that possibility over and over in his mind for long, pleasurable moments.

Then he faced reality. She was married. She loved her husband. She and Derek had survived the last two years without her knowing. They could probably spend the rest of their lives together without him ever having to confess what he’d done. And if she never knew…it wouldn’t hurt her.

How could he be the one to tell her Derek was a lying, cheating asshole?

He stared at a boat, way out near the horizon. It bobbed on the water, seemingly unmoving. He watched it. Measured its progress against one of the oil rigs. Yes. It was moving. Slowly, but it was moving. He stared at it until it had moved a considerable distance.

Clouds raced past the sun, shifting him from light to dark and back to light again. He idly noted that even when the sun came out it didn’t hurt his eyes. Great.

He should be ecstatic. He was finally getting what he wanted ever since he’d gotten sick in Costa Rica. Ever since he’d arrive in Montecito, he’d wanted his eyes to get better so he could leave and get on with his life. His miserable, lonely life.

He blew out a long breath, still amazed at the pain deep inside him, the empty crater that was his gut.

He had to leave.

He sat there a while longer, wishing he could think of some other way. He couldn’t tell Krissa, and there was no way he could stay there with the two of them in this cozy threesome with the loathing and disgust he now felt toward Derek. He could never pull that off.

What about the baby?

Did he still want to do that? Of course, it might be too late. She could already be pregnant. He closed his eyes, mouth as dry as if he’d picked up a handful of sand and swallowed it. After last month, he didn’t have as much hope that they’d been successful this time. Likely not. His only chance at being a father had probably died in that freeway crash two years ago.

He put a hand to his chest. Fuck, it hurt. Why did it hurt so much, now, thinking about that? Thinking about Lauren and their baby. About her betrayal. And now…finding out his best friend had done something so heinous—cheated on his own wife, with Nate’s wife, betraying both of them. Jesus.

He heaved himself off the rock, feeling heavy and stiff, and headed back to the house with jerky, uneven steps. He stopped to look down at some seaweed washed ashore, a tangled black mess, complicated and impossible to unravel without breaking it up.

He climbed the stairs to the house on shaky legs. Derek still sat on the deck. Nate paused, shot him a glance, his heart constricting. Then he continued into the house, through the sliding doors. Krissa stood in the kitchen, doing something with some food at the counter. He ignored her, didn’t want to see her, didn’t want her to see him, and headed straight up to his room and shut the door.

He hadn’t even unpacked the bag he’d taken to L.A., but he had other clothes in the closet, in the dresser. He shoved clothing into another bag, not caring how he packed. He balled up a pair of jeans and stuffed them in, then strode into his bathroom to gather his toiletries. He stared at himself in the mirror, for once not wearing the damn ugly glasses. He looked…naked without them. Vulnerable. Pain and betrayal stared back at him.

When his gear was packed, he dragged it out into the kitchen. Krissa was setting the table for dinner, wearing a pair of long shorts that made her calves below their hems look adorably small and smooth, and a long-sleeved hooded sweater. She looked up at him and smiled, and the sweetness and love in that smile sucked all the air out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He stopped.

He watched her face cloud as she took in his bags, her smile faltering.

Derek came to the sliding door and opened it, stepped in. He, too, looked pale and strained as he observed Nate’s stuff.

“I have to go.” Nate’s voice sounded weird to him, rough and sandy. He struggled for control of his raging emotions. He took a step toward Krissa, stopped. He forced a smile. “My eyes are almost better, so I have to get back to work.”

He watched expressions flicker across her face—her lips parted, she blinked at him.

“Now? You’re leaving right now?”

His whole body tightened. He wasn’t even sure if he could get the word out past the obstruction in his throat. “Yeah.”

Her mouth opened wider along with her eyes. “I don’t understand. Why do you have to go tonight?”

“I…” He resisted glancing at Derek. His lips twisted into what he hoped was a smile. “Sorry for the short notice, Krissa. I’ve been thinking about it all the way back from L.A.”

“No.” She pressed her lips together. She glanced at Derek, then back at Nate. She shook her head, moved toward him, one hand extended. God, if she touched him he was going to come apart. He saw the confusion and pain in her eyes, and it sliced through him like a blade. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered.

“I know this changes the whole baby plan,” Nate said, striving for lightness in his voice. “I’m sorry about that.”

She stared at him, green eyes huge and dusky. Long dark lashes framed her eyes, giving her a starry-eyed look. She still moved her head slowly from side to side. “But…but, Nate. We…” Her gaze went to her husband again.

“I’m sorry,” Nate choked.

He could see her trembling. He could feel her distress. He sensed how she wanted to beg, plead…even argue with him. And damn it, hadn’t he been encouraging her to fight for what she wanted? But not now. If she tried to stop him from leaving, he’d fall apart.

He wanted to kiss her goodbye. Hold her one more time. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to ever let her go, if he did. But he had to feel her one last time, so he closed the distance between them, took her in his arms and wrapped her up in them. He held her small frame like that, pressed his face to her cool, silky hair, inhaled the scent of the peachy shampoo she used that would be forever imprinted in his olfactory memory as Krissa.

He opened his eyes, met Derek’s, saw pain there too. Good.

He drew back, tipped Krissa’s face up. Oh, Christ.

The anguish in her tear-sparkled green eyes cut into him, all the way to his soul, the deepest, most searing agony he’d ever experienced. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he bent his head to kiss her mouth, one lingering, gentle kiss. Then he released her, and stepped back to get his bags. His eyes burned and he lowered his head so Krissa wouldn’t see.

“Thanks for everything,” he choked out. “I…” He didn’t know what else to say. He’d said he was sorry, although she had no idea how sorry he was. He couldn’t tell her what the last few months had meant to him, what she meant to him…couldn’t say any of the things that spun around in his head. So, knowing he looked like an ungrateful jerk, he grabbed his gear and walked out the door.

It was the baby. That’s why she was so upset about him leaving. Because, one more time, he was taking away her chance at being a mother. Another knife stabbed into his chest.

He had to get out of there before he completely fell apart. He was unraveling, little by little, faster and faster. He’d felt this way since the first night he and Krista had had sex. The coming apart had started then, inexorably rolling along like a ball of string down a hill. All he could think of was getting away from there, maybe finding a motel room somewhere and checking in, and then disintegrating into a puddle of grief where nobody could witness his humiliation.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Krissa stood in the middle of the bright kitchen, frozen and empty. The smell of the garlic chicken she’d been grilling suddenly nauseated her.

Nate was gone?

She shook her head. How could this be? Her shaky legs weakened beneath her, and she stumbled over to a chair at the table and sank onto it. She couldn’t breathe, her lungs constricted, her abdomen tight.

How could he do that? How could he just walk away from what they had?

What did they have? That was a question she wasn’t sure she could answer. There were so many things she didn’t know. But one thing she did know was that she didn’t want to live without Nate. She didn’t know how to live with him, in this weird situation, but she knew she wanted him in her life. And he’d just walked out.

“Krissa.”

She blinked and looked up at Derek, standing there wan and troubled. She’d forgotten about him.

“Did something happen?” she asked him slowly. He looked almost as upset as she was.

“No.”

“I don’t get it.” Her voice trembled, her lips quivered. She wanted to break down into tears but was suddenly aware that this was her husband standing there. “Why would he leave like that?”

“I don’t know.” Derek’s voice sounded stretched thin. He put out his arms. “Come here.”

She looked at him. She couldn’t bear to accept comfort from him at that moment. And even though she knew it was wrong, she stood up and turned her back on him and went to their bedroom.

She closed the door and lay down on the bed. Every muscle in her body felt sapped of energy, weak and lifeless. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could only feel the agony cramping her tummy, throbbing in her heart.

Derek came to the door a while later. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been laying there.

“I know you’re disappointed,” he said. “I am too. And I’m kind of pissed off at Nate that he’d just take off like that.”

“He has a life of his own,” she said dully, not looking at Derek.

“We’d agreed that he would try…I tried to tell him that we could still go the donation route, if he didn’t want to stick around. He wouldn’t even talk about it.”

She just stared at the ceiling, eyes burning. For the first time in ages, having a baby wasn’t the most important thing in her life. At that moment, with Nate gone, she didn’t even care anymore. Nothing seemed important.

“It doesn’t matter.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from him.

“Krissa…”

“Please. Just leave me alone.”

She felt his presence, still and silent, then heard quiet footsteps cross the room and the snick of the door closing.

Many hours later, she finally roused herself enough to get out of bed. To her astonishment, it was dark. The house was hushed. Wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water, she realized Derek had gone out.

A twinge of guilt nudged her conscience. She’d been rude and hurtful earlier. He didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t his fault this had happened.

The cold water eased the ache in her throat. She found some painkillers and swallowed them, rubbed the thumping between her eyes. She looked at the chicken still sitting on the counter, cold and repellent. She opened the fridge with the vague idea that she should eat something. Nothing appealed to her. She looked in the freezer. Ice cream. Perfect.

But when she removed the lid, the container was empty.

Men. Which of those two macho idiots had put the empty container away? She was always bugging them—the empty milk carton appeared in the fridge, the empty peanut butter jar sat in the cupboard, and when she went to run the dishwasher she found an empty box of dishwasher detergent.

She sighed, tears prickling her eyes. She could go get ice cream. It didn’t seem worth the bother, but ice cream was all she wanted. She could drive up to the Dairy Delight on Coast Village Road and get her favorite mocha chocolate chip.

She didn’t care what she looked like, so she just grabbed her car keys and let herself out of the house.

Long line-ups waited patiently at the Dairy Delight, as was usual on a warm summer evening. The couple in front of her stood with their arms around each other, and the guy nuzzled the girl’s hair and whispered in her ear. Krissa watched them.

They looked like they had a normal life. Two people in love, out for ice cream. The ache inside her intensified and she almost walked out of the ice cream shop. But she forced herself to stand there and wait for ice cream she didn’t even want any more.

With her double scoop of mocha chocolate chip ice cream in a waffle cone in hand, she emerged onto the sidewalk. She stood there beneath the glow of a street lamp, ran her tongue over the creamy cold ice cream. Sweet.

She meandered down the street to where she’d parked her car at the curb. Across was a pub she and Derek used to go to with the best strawberry margaritas in the world. They hadn’t been there in a long time.

A man and a woman came out the door of the pub. Krissa stopped.

It was Derek.

Who was he with?

Krissa stepped behind a planter overflowing with red and purple petunias. She watched her husband put his arm around the woman’s waist and lead her down the steps to the sidewalk. Her blonde hair hung straight to her waist. A tight, low-cut top revealed generous cleavage and her high-heeled slides brought her almost to Derek’s height. Pretty, in a slutty way, Krissa observed numbly.

On the sidewalk, the woman laughed at something, turned to Derek and kissed him on the mouth. And he kissed her back, his hand sliding around to her ass in a snug pair of bright pink Capri pants.

The ice cream plopped from Krissa’s hand to the brick sidewalk. She ignored it, stared open-mouthed at her husband passionately kissing another woman.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It would probably take her a year to sort out the confused thoughts and feelings eddying in her head. Maybe it would take forever. She only knew that the few hours between when she’d seen Derek outside The Jolly Frog pub and when he arrived home were not enough to sort out exactly how she felt and what she should do about it.

Maybe she should have confronted him then and there, with that woman, but her first instinct had been to retreat, to run away from the ugliness. Once before she had been in denial about Derek’s fidelity, had let it go, pretended it hadn’t happened, but…not this time.

When Derek came quietly into the house, she was sitting in the living room. She’d finished off a bottle of wine. Never mind ice cream. Wine sounded much better when she’d gotten home. When the thought that she could be pregnant crossed her mind, she pushed it away. After so long, it just wasn’t meant to happen. Wasn’t going to happen. She might as well accept that and move on with things.

Move on with what?

Derek spotted her sitting in the dark, wine glass in her hand, and stopped. “Hi.”

“Hi.” The first thing she wanted to say was, where were you? But she wasn’t going to act like a wronged wife. Because she was still worried that she wasn’t exactly in the right, her feelings for Nate troubling and confusing.

“You’re still up.”

“Yes.”

He walked over to the couch and sat beside her. She could smell alcohol, cigarettes and perfume…a scent she’d smelled before. A fist inside her squeezed tighter.

She lifted the glass to her mouth, tipped it and drained the last mouthful of Chardonnay.

“I saw you.”

He looked at her, blinked. His short blonde hair was imperfect, as if he’d tried to neaten it with his fingers. “You saw me?”

“Outside the Jolly Frog.”

He said nothing.

“Who is she, Derek?”

He looked away, his mouth tight. “Nobody.”

“Clearly, she is. You’ve seen her before. I recognize her perfume.”

“She’s another agent. A new one.”

Krissa nodded. This all felt like a dream. Like it was happening in slow motion. “How long have you been having an affair with her?”

“I’m not!”

She looked at him sadly. “Derek. Don’t lie about this. Enough shit has happened. Let’s not lie anymore. To each other. To ourselves.”

“It’s not an affair,” he repeated. “Okay, yeah, I’ve seen her before. But it’s not like we have a relationship.”

“Why?”

At first she wasn’t sure if he understood her question. He leaned back against the cushions, hands clenched at his side. She carefully set the empty glass down on the table in front of her.

“Why now? Or why, ever?”

“Both.”

He took a breath, blew it out. “I saw the look on your face today. When Nate left.”

“Yes.”

“You were…devastated.”

She couldn’t deny it.

She saw his throat work, saw his struggle for words. He ran a hand through his hair. “I knew then…” He stopped. “I knew we were in trouble.”

She let his words sink into her numbed mind. “We’ve been in trouble for a long time.”

He nodded, pain etched on his face. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“I wanted to be mad at you,” she said. She stared across the room. “I am mad at you. But…I slept with another man.”

“With Nate.”

“Yes.” She turned her head sharply. “Not with anyone else.”

“I know.”

“For a while, I thought maybe…it was the same thing. And I shouldn’t be mad at you because you were just doing the same thing I’d done.”

He was silent.

“But it’s not the same thing.”

Derek still said nothing.

“You didn’t really tell me why.”

He nodded. “Tonight—I needed someone. You weren’t there for me.”

She supposed that was true.

“The other time…shit.” He rubbed his eyes. “You know how hard this has been. Trying to get pregnant. All those failures. Every time, I felt like crap. You made me feel like I couldn’t give you what you wanted. Like I was a big loser.”

“I made you feel that way?” She sat up straighter.

“Hell, yeah. Fuck, I couldn’t get my own wife pregnant. I felt like I wasn’t a man. But I could—”

“Get with any other woman you wanted,” she finished bitterly. He didn’t confirm what she’d said. “The last time was the day we found out about your sperm count. You went to her…”

He nodded, closed his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Her voice shook.

He covered his face with his hands. “I told you. You made feel like a useless piece of shit.”

Her heart squeezed so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. She put a hand to her chest and rubbed, tried to breathe.

“It’s hard on a man,” he continued hoarsely. “To be told you’re not really a man.”

“It was hard on me!” She grabbed his hands and yanked them away from his face, wanting him to look at her. “It was hard on both of us! But I didn’t blame you!”

“I felt like you did.”

“Oh my God.” She stared at him. “What did I…” Had she blamed him for their problems? She’d always felt like he’d blamed her. Like she was the problem. She couldn’t get pregnant, and it was her fault they were even putting themselves through that, because she was the one who wanted a baby so badly. When they’d found out it was Derek, she hadn’t blamed him for that…had she?

She put her fingertips to her eyes and pressed. The pounding in her head increased. Her fingers came away wet.

“So you went to other women to make yourself feel like a man again.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it like that. But…I guess that’s it. I’m sorry, Krissa. I truly am. I love you.” His voice splintered.

She shook her head. “I don’t think you do.”

“I do, Krissa, believe me, I do.”

“You wouldn’t do that if you loved me,” she said slowly. “And you wouldn’t have let me sleep with another man if you loved me.”

“That was…Christ. I didn’t realize what a mistake that was going to be. I just thought you two would…”

“Fuck?” she provided helpfully, harshly.

“Well, yeah. I thought it was a way to give you what you want, and I…wanted to…”

“I know. You wanted to watch. It turned you on seeing me with another man, didn’t it?”

His mouth a hard line, eyes shadowed, he gave a short nod.

“Did it ease your guilt? About screwing around on me? Watching me with another man?”

“Oh, hell, Krissa. I don’t…” The words tore from his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Her lips pursed and her eyes stung. It hurt to swallow.

“I saw the look on your face when Nate left this afternoon,” he said again. “You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

They sat there, silence building around them, the house dark and silent, the only sound the rasp of Derek’s breathing.

“How many times have you screwed around?” she asked him. “I know of twice. Was there more?”

He shook his head.

“There must have been.” She remembered having this conversation once before in their marriage and him denying it. “Two years ago. I asked you then…you said no. But you were, weren’t you?”

He turned his head away.

“Derek. That was before we’d even gotten into the whole pregnancy mess. Did you even cheat before then?” Her voice rose to a squeak.

“No.”

“You did.” She leaned forward, determined to hear the truth. She put a hand on his chest and gave him a shove. “Tell me. Who was it that time?”

“I can’t.”

“What?” She grabbed his shirt in her fist and yanked. “What? Tell me! Tell me now!”

“No! Jesus, Krissa, let it go, it was a long time ago and she’s dead, for God’s sake!”

Krissa released her grip on his shirt and sat back. “She’s…dead?”

Her mind immediately connected several dots and had a picture. Two years ago. Her suspicions about an affair. Lauren’s funeral. How Derek had remained beside her coffin after everyone else had left. The desolation on his face. At the time, the extent of his grief had surprised her—but everyone had been upset about Lauren’s death.

She covered her mouth with her hands, staring at him. “Oh my God, Derek. Did you have an affair with Lauren?”

He stared back at her. “Why would you think that?” But his gaze shifted away.

“It was Lauren. I can’t believe you.” She moved away from him, shaking her head. Her breath stuck in her throat. “Oh, dear God. It was you.”

He said nothing, stood and walked to the doors overlooking the dark ocean, his back to her.

Not only had he betrayed her, he’d betrayed his best friend.

“Is that why Nate left?”

He nodded, shoulders hunched.

“I can’t believe you told him.”

“I didn’t mean to. I never meant for him to know. Lauren wanted to leave him, wanted me to leave you, but she was killed in that car accident…so I never would have told Nate.”

“Were you going to leave me?” she whispered, pain crawling over her body, cutting her open. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth.

He turned. “I don’t know.” Then, “No. I love you, Krissa. I didn’t want to leave you. She was just lonely and pissed off at Nate for leaving her alone for so long.”

“Dear sweet God.”

Her mind reeled again. Could she take any more of this? The shock and pain of these confessions sapped her strength and crippled her ability to function.

“How could you do that to him?” she whispered through her fingers, not sure if he could even hear her, but then, she didn’t expect an answer. “How could I have loved you?”

“Krissa. God, Krissa.” His voice was thick and across the room she saw the glimmer of tears on his face from the moonlight shining in the glass doors. “If it wasn’t for this whole obsession with having a baby, none of this would have happened.”

She let his words sink into her. And then…something broke inside her. Something snapped, emotion welled up inside her fierce and hot, her control ripped away. She hated conflict, hated fighting. She’d accepted the blame for everything that had gone wrong for years. For her whole life, in fact.

She was done with that. She wasn’t going to take the blame any more.

“Shut up.”

He stared back at her. She, too, rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“This is not my fault,” she spat at him. “You cheated on me with Lauren before any of that even started. You probably cheated before that and more times than I even know. I don’t care. You can tell me it was all my fault—that I made you feel less of a man.” Her tone scathed and she narrowed her eyes at him. “But you only felt the man you really are—a weak man, trying to blame someone else for your problems. For your sins. I never blamed you. I don’t know why you felt like that. I blamed myself.” She took a breath.