Текст книги "Torn"
Автор книги: Kim Karr
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Chapter 20
Everlong
Faint morning light streams through the window as I slip off our bed and try to call him again. Standing over the nightstand I clutch the portable phone. My call goes directly to his voice mail but I don’t leave a message; I haven’t left any messages because I’m not sure what to say, what will make any of it better. I just think if we could sit down and talk reasonably, we could work it out. Or at least I hope we can.
As I hang up the phone I have an urgent need to find something that will bring me some comfort. I peer out the window, looking for the sign that’s blocked from my view by the heavy rain. I open the sliding doors and make my way down to the pool deck to get a little closer so I can catch a glimpse. Once I’m standing on the half wall that acts as our railing, I shade my eyes and I see a faint hint of the letter H. I spread my arms out and throw my head back. The rain pelts down on my face and I look into the heavens and ask—why are we falling apart?
I stay out in the rain until I’m shivering and my teeth are chattering. Making my way back into the house, I take off my wet clothes and slip on my bathrobe. Ben’s clothes are still lying in the same place I threw them last night when I stripped them off. Picking them up, I walk into the kitchen and throw them away. I can see why River hasn’t answered his phone; it’s sitting on the counter, its screen illuminated and beeping to indicate that he has messages. I feel some relief that at least he isn’t ignoring my calls.
On my way back to our bedroom, I stop in the music room and sit at the piano that River bought me for Christmas last year. I had told him that my dad had been teaching me to play before he died. Since then, River has taken that role on and I have perfected many songs, but I am most proud that I’ve mastered the one my dad was teaching me before tragedy stuck—“Lullabye” by Billy Joel. I sit at the piano for a long while, drawing my fingers across the keys and thinking about our happy times in this room before finally deciding to take a shower.
Standing under the hot water, I try to rid myself of the chills that don’t want to go away. When I finally get out, I start to get dressed and the phone rings. I dash for it, assuming it is River.
“Hello?”
“Dahl, it’s me. I need some help.”
“Ben? How did you get this number?”
“From Caleb. Why, are you not allowed to get calls?”
“What do you need, Ben?”
“I want to go check out one of the centers that have availability for Trent and make sure it’s not a shithole, but I can’t leave Trent alone.”
“Sure, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I say and hang up.
I throw on a pair of jeans, select one of my dad’s concert T-shirts, and put my boots on because I know River likes them.
I can’t find my phone, I have no idea where I left it yesterday morning in my haste to get to Trent. So I leave the house without a phone again, but this time I leave a note for River. I know he thinks I’m still upset with him and he’s obviously upset with me, but I want him to know how I feel.
River,
If I could have one wish, just one, then my wish would be you . . . to wake up with the feel of your breath near my neck, the warmth of your lips on mine, and the sound of your heart beating in sync with my heart.
You’re the one who turned my world around . . . made it right. You brought me back to life. I can’t imagine my life without you. I know this past week has been tough for both of us, but I love you more than words can say. I’d never do anything to hurt you and I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. Reach down deep into your soul, remember who I am, who we are, and I know you will have no doubts.
Just remember you’re my everything. I know we need to talk.
I love you more. I love you always!
I’m yours, Dahlia.
PS I hope you know which one is missing.
Once I finish and tuck it under his phone, I run to the bedroom and pull out the six guitar picks I gave him for Valentine’s Day. Placing them on top of the note, I leave all but one and place the one I selected inside my pocket.
I also need to tell him I’m going to Ben’s to keep an eye on Trent, so I take a Post-it from the drawer and write a quick note that I stick to the refrigerator before leaving.
* * *
I arrive in Laguna much faster than usual, so I pick up a few items at the grocery store that I know Trent likes and then go through the Starbucks drive-thru and get coffees.
When I get to the house, I step on the front porch and can’t help but think it seems so strange to knock, not just walk into the house that I lived in for so long. I lightly tap on the door, not wanting to wake Trent in case he’s sleeping. When there’s no answer, I open the door and peek my head inside. “Ben?”
There’s no response so I decide to step inside. I’ve just set the bags and coffees down in the kitchen and turned to open the refrigerator when he walks in. He’s shirtless, his hair is wet, and he’s trying to run a belt through the loops of his shorts. His other arm isn’t in the sling, it’s hanging limply by his side. He looks surprised. “Shit, you really did get here fast. I guess you were already awake.” Then with an impish grin he says, “What, doesn’t he have blackout shades?”
Quickly averting my eyes, I ignore his comment and push the coffee tray toward him. “I brought coffee.”
He steps right into me. “Am I making you nervous? You’ve seen me naked a million times, Dahl.”
I turn my back to him and start unloading the groceries.
“Hey, you okay?”
With irritation setting in, I sigh. “Ben, I’m fine.”
I feel his hands on my hips and his mouth near my ear as he says, “No, you’re not fine. I know you better than that.”
I freeze, not expecting his touch. “Ben, don’t.”
Ignoring me, he rests his chin on my shoulder as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. “I’m sorry, Dahl, I can’t help it. I miss you.”
For a split second I’m transported back to when we would go days without talking and this was always his way of apologizing. But when I feel his lips on my neck, I step away, and move to put the boxes of cereal in the cabinet.
“Come on, Dahlia—don’t you miss us?”
“Ben, how many times do I have to say this?—you can’t put your hands on me anytime you want anymore.”
“What we had was good. That doesn’t just go away.”
I turn to look at him. “It was good. But things are different now. I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m in love with River.”
His discomfort at the sound of River’s name is apparent, and his face contorts as he seems to ignore what I just said. He puts his palms out like he’s surrendering. “Look, I’m sorry. Old habits die hard,” he says as he takes one of the coffees from the trays.
I take a sip of my coffee and exhale the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding as relief washes through me. I’ve been afraid to really let him touch me for fear of what his touch would do to me, but now I’m more certain than ever—I just don’t have any romantic feelings left for him.
“I’m going to check on Trent. Could you put a shirt on?”
He nods his head as I walk past him and leave the kitchen. Needing a minute to myself, I stop in the hall bathroom. I close the door and look at myself in the mirror. I really look awful—my eyes are puffy with dark circles beneath them, my hair is a mess, and my face looks tearstained. I splash cold water on my cheeks and look back in the mirror—glad I finally told him.
When I come out, he’s waiting for me. Leaning against the wall with one hand shoved in his pocket and the other now back in the sling he says, “Okay, I’m outta here. I shouldn’t be too long, but if you need anything you can call Caleb.” Then he turns and leaves.
I check on Trent often, but he’s sleeping soundly.
Sitting on the couch, I look over to Ben’s desk and decide to call Aerie. I miss her and wonder how long she’ll be gone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Aerie.”
“Dahlia? Why are you in Laguna again?”
“Long story. How are you?”
“Feeling like my head is going to spin off. I think I’m just about ready to start looking for a new job.”
“What do you mean? You love your job.”
“Hmmm . . . not so much anymore. There is always so much to do and management never listens. I really wish you were here with me. While I’m conducting this interview, I also have to write a story about my uncle’s band’s rise and fall before his death.”
“Yeah, well, helping you probably would have been a better option.”
“A better option than what, Dahlia girl?”
I tell her about the party and what happened—about finding out that Bell was the girl Ben e-mailed years ago and that River knew about it, then I tell her about the fight River and I had. I also tell her about Ellie. And finally I tell her about Trent and where I am now.
Aerie sounds shocked. First she tells me how sorry she is about Trent. Then she says she can’t believe what I told her about Bell. We talk about how I feel knowing River’s sister is the girl he almost cheated on me with. Finally she tells me that River and I need to do a better job of communicating and once again I agree with her.
When I hang up, I walk over to the kitchen window looking out onto the flower garden. I fill a glass of water and stand there, just drinking it. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even hear Ben come in the door. I turn around and he’s just standing there, leaning against the doorframe, staring at me. I jump and water splashes everywhere.
“Hi, I didn’t know you were back.” I’m trying to keep my edginess at bay by keeping my voice even.
He cocks his head to the side. Grinning at the water stains down the front of my shirt he stares at my chest. “Did you miss me?” he asks.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, leaning back against the counter.
“You ready to spill it?”
I have had enough of his comments but for some reason I still ask, “Spill what?”
“Come on, Dahl, I know you. I know something’s going on. I can tell. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
Pointing to his arm in the sling I say, “You know very well what’s going on.”
He furrows his brow then grins. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Fuck you, Ben Covington!”
Standing up straighter he moves closer to me and cups my chin. “There’s the girl I know.”
I roll my eyes again; I’m not going to let him get to me. Walking past him, I start to head for the hallway, but he grabs me and pulls me back to him.
I jerk away, glaring at him. “Ben, touch me again and I’ll make sure you have no arms left to use.”
With that, I go to say goodbye to Trent—he’s asleep, or trying to sleep. He’s curled up in a ball, shivering. I only stay a minute because I can’t look anymore—the little boy I watched grow up is gone. God, how did I miss this?
When I walk back into the kitchen to get my keys, Ben is making some toast. “Want some?” he asks, and I remember those words from a different time and a different context.
I shake my head no.
“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” he says. Then he points to the hallway. “Sorry about that before. I really will try to keep my hands to myself, but I can’t make any promises.”
I nod and try not to laugh at his cockiness. Accepting that Ben will always be Ben, I get to the reason I came here to begin with. “What did you decide about Trent?”
“We’ll check him into a center for a twenty-eight-day program. He’ll learn the twelve steps, hate life, hate me and his mother, but hopefully come out with the ability to fight his addiction.”
His bleak assessment takes me aback. “He’s lucky he has you.”
“I don’t think he’ll see it that way.”
“He’ll come around. Speaking of coming around, did you call Serena yet?”
His demeanor, his attitude, they all shift gears and he seems somber, maybe even uncertain. “I’m not going to call her until tomorrow morning. She thinks he’s at his dad’s so she’s not worried. By then I hope the fevers and chills have subsided.”
“Okay, Ben.” He’s right, Trent looks terrible and I’d hate for Serena to see him like that. Knowing there’s nothing else I can do, I reach for my keys and head out the doorway. “Alright, I’ll check in with you later.”
“See ya, Dahl, and thanks,” he calls after me.
I turn to face him before I say, “Ben, I am really glad you’re alive.”
“Thanks, Dahl. That means a lot. And I really am glad you’re happy,” he calls.
I smile at him and our eyes meet, but he quickly averts his gaze. Then I leave the house, probably for the last time.
As I pull out of the driveway, I can’t help but be sad for Trent, but for some reason I’m sad for Ben, too. There’s so much sadness surrounding me right now; focusing on any one facet of it is difficult. Something Grace told me comes to mind as I drive down the street. “There is something beautiful about each and every scar we bear no matter where it comes from . . . I will always be here for you,” and it hits me she has been there for me, and I should be there for her. I’ve never stopped to think about how Ben actually being alive has impacted her—she had scars, too.
* * *
Regardless of the reasons why I acted the way I did; I should never have walked away from her. I realize this as I drive by the beach and look at the families so effortlessly playing, swimming, and smiling, happy to be together. I have to talk to her and apologize for my behavior.
When I reach her house, I open the front door and call out her name.
She’s sitting at a small desk in the corner of the living room, going through some papers with only the desk reading light on.
She looks up from under her reading glasses. “Dahlia, honey, is everything okay?”
In a haze of emotion, I run to her and hug her as tight as I can, blurting out, “I’m so sorry.”
Glancing down, I notice documents with Ben’s name on them—his death certificate, a life insurance policy, and the coroner’s report.
Breaking our embrace, she clears her throat and in a small, almost raspy voice says, “Dahlia, you’re not the one who needs to apologize, I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry.” She sets her glasses on the desk. “Come on, let’s sit down over here and talk.”
Walking over to the couch I can’t help but think how much this room feels like home to me. How all I want to do is sit here and just be near this woman who has been like a mother to me for my whole adult life. My intention was to come here and apologize to her, but now all I want is the comfort she has always brought me.
I try to disagree, but as she tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, she keeps talking. “Sweetheart, listen to me. All I wanted was for you to try to understand why he did what he did, see if you could forgive him.”
I take a deep breath and start from the beginning. “Grace, I understand that now. And I have talked to him . . .”
I tell her everything that happened since his return—how I feel like walls keep going up between all of us and we are all being torn apart. We talk for over an hour. She interjects and gives me advice every now and then, but she mostly listens. She tells me that when people love each other, telling them things they know will hurt them isn’t always easy. I can tell she’s also talking about herself.
When I’m all talked out, she explains her feelings to me. “All I want is for Ben and you to be happy, but I know that doesn’t mean together. I know you’re happy with River. It’s just that I’m concerned for Ben. He’s lost and the life he knew is gone. I just thought the reason he hasn’t made any decisions on what to do with his life is because he still thinks you may go back to him. That’s the only reason I wanted you to forgive him. So he could see there was only friendship left.” She pauses to catch my eye. “And Dahlia, he called me a bit ago and he now understands.”
She doesn’t elaborate, but I know what she means. She smiles a small smile and releases my hand. My heart breaks a little for the love Ben and I once shared, but that love is gone. I can’t bring it back, nor do I want to. I can only hope that someday Ben will find what I have found with River.
Standing up, Grace says, “You need to go home and talk to River now.” As she ushers me toward the door she opens it and clutches my hand. “Be honest with him about everything—your feelings, how you feel toward him, your wariness concerning his behavior, all of it. Don’t hold back. If you can open up to him, you will work it out because the love River and you share isn’t a love that happens for everyone. I know this, Dahlia, because every time I see the way the two of you look at each other, I’m reminded of the way my husband and I used to look at each other. That’s how I know what you two have is unbreakable. What I had with my husband was so strong that I will never forget it, even after all these years.”
Hugging her goodbye, I can’t help but think how right she is. I know how much she loved her husband and although I never met him, I saw her love for him every day. As we stand embracing at her door, I feel compelled to tell her something I never have before. “Grace, you know how much I love you. You’re not just like a mother to me, you have been my mother.”
Her chin trembles and with the smallest of nods, she hugs me even tighter. “Dahlia, I love you so much. And thank you for that.”
When we pull away, I look more closely at her. She looks so worn out. I notice dark, bluish circles under her normally sparkling eyes. “Grace, please don’t worry so much. Ben will work everything out. I know he will. He’s tough and resilient. He will be fine.”
“I hope so Dahlia, I hope so. Now go home and talk to River,” she says as she motions me down the steps and into the rain. Then she calls out, “Dahlia honey, where’s your umbrella?”
I have to laugh because she knows I can never find any of my umbrellas.
As I get in my car, I watch her standing in the doorway through my rearview mirror. I open my window and call out one last time, “Thank you, Grace. Love you.”
She blows me a kiss and waves goodbye, then wraps her arms around herself and goes into the house. I’m so happy we talked and everything is back to how it’s always been.
Serena pulls into the driveway as I’m pulling out and she honks her horn repeatedly at me.
Putting my car in park, I open the window.
She hurries over, the rain soaking her clothes. She looks furious. “Who the hell do you think you are, keeping something like that from me?” she says, trembling with anger.
I know she’s talking about Trent, but don’t know what to say. “Serena, I’m sorry . . .”
She leans down into the window, her fists clenched and her eyes flashing with anger. “How could you of all people not tell me? I thought you believed in telling the truth!” With that, she storms off toward the house.
I get out of the car and run after her. “Serena, I do, let me explain.”
“No Dahlia, you don’t get to explain. Just remember I’m his mother,” she says, slamming the front door in my face.
I stand there trying to figure out if I should go into the house or not. She’s so mad, but I can’t blame her. She had a right to know. I decide it’s best to not try to talk to her right now. I’m sure she wants to talk to Grace about Trent and I’m not sure anything I say will make a difference in her state of mind.
Driving off, I once again find myself heading back to LA. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours since I made this same trip home, yet it seems so little has changed. Well . . . Grace and I made up. It feels right that we were able to put our issues behind us. Ben and I seem to have come to an understanding—we may even eventually be able to be friends. He’s back, but our lives will remain separate and I think he has accepted that. Then there’s the bad . . . Serena is not talking to me, and neither is Xander. Then there’s the unchanged . . . River and I haven’t talked all day, he never came home last night, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen when I get home.
As I think through all of this, I can’t help but notice the damp chill in the air and the steel gray color of the sky.
Chapter 21
All In
As I pull into the driveway, I glare at Ellie’s car parked in the same place it was yesterday. I take a deep breath and blow it out. I just can’t deal with her right now, so I decide it’s best not to go in. I want to talk to River and try to get past all this, but I know seeing her again will just enrage me. I just can’t stop thinking about the look of betrayal on Serena’s face—the same look I know I had a few times in the past week.
I decide I should probably go see Bell and make sure she knows I’m not upset with her. I haven’t had a chance to call her, and, hopefully, by the time I come back, Ellie will be gone.
River’s mom lives less than five miles from our house. When I arrive at the large two-story house, I ring the doorbell. As I wait, I keep my eyes fixed on the large metal doorknocker. I know Charlotte’s at work, but I can’t stop from wondering if she knows about Bell and Ben. I’m sure she does. Bell tells her everything. I’m suddenly nervous and my heart starts pounding. When Brigitte answers the door, I jump, suddenly feeling more nervous as she greets me.
“Hi Dahlia, come in. What a nice surprise.” The longtime housekeeper is more like a part of their family. The short elegant French woman has her curly brown hair pinned up and is wearing a white shirt and black pants, looking the same she does every time I see her.
“Hi Brigitte. How are you?”
“Fantastique!” she says with a heavy French accent. Her enthusiasm makes me smile.
“Dahlia!” I hear and I look up the staircase to the balcony. There stands Bell—she could be River’s twin, with her light copper-brown-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a USC sweatshirt that must be Xander’s, a pair of jeans, and chewing her bottom lip.
She rushes down the stairs. “I’ve been calling you. I thought you were mad at me.”
“Excuse me ladies, I’ll let you two talk,” Brigitte says as she makes her way toward the kitchen. Then she turns around and looks at Bell. Shooting her a wink she says, “See Missy, I told you she wouldn’t be mad at you.”
Bell smiles and says, “You’re always right, Brigitte.”
“If you need anything, let me know, girls,” Brigitte says and leaves the room.
“Bell, I’m not mad at you. It’s just . . .” I shake my head. “I didn’t even know your name was S’belle.”
“It’s not. I spent my freshman year in France with my aunt and everyone there called me S’belle. When I came back to the States I thought it would be fun to keep my French name, so I told everyone at USC to call me that.”
“Okay, that makes sense, I guess . . .”
She cuts me off as she pulls me through the kitchen and into the large family room. Before we have a chance to sit down, Bell asks, “Why haven’t you called me back, then?”
I can’t help but notice her vibrant green eyes are teary.
“I’m sorry, Bell, I didn’t know you called. I haven’t been able to find my phone.”
She rolls her eyes, and then shakes her head as she settles into the mirror image of the chair I am sitting in. “What a surprise.”
“You could have called the house phone.”
“Shit, I always forget about landlines. It’s just I called you, I called River, I even called Xander, and none of you answered.”
“I’m sorry, Bell,” I say and shrug my shoulders, not wanting to be the one to explain the tour fiasco to her.
“Dahlia, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my Ben was your Ben. I was immature back then and I didn’t respect other people’s relationships. When I met Ben at the initiation party, I just had to have him. Nothing else mattered. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend at first and even though he told me, that didn’t stop me. I tried to get his attention at every party and finally one night when he was really drunk I got it.”
I didn’t miss the way she said his name. Like she knew him. I should have been more prepared for this moment, but what did she mean? Her Ben? Had to have him? Just went for it?
I avert my eyes from her and momentarily stare at the collage of family photos on the wall. Xander, River, and Bell in front of the Eiffel Tower with Charlotte and her sister on each end, the three kids sitting down for a picnic, and a young River onstage with his guitar. A million questions run through my head as she continues to talk.
“Dahlia! Hey, are you okay? You said you weren’t mad.”
I blink my eyes and try to refocus. “Wait a minute. I’m confused. You need to start from the beginning.”
“Sorry, I assumed River told you everything.”
I shake my head without speaking.
“I just thought . . . I don’t know. Maybe not. Knowing River, I guess not.”
“He didn’t say much. Go on.”
She blinks, watching me closely. “God, Dahlia, I’m sorry.”
“Bell, just tell me,” I manage. It feels like my throat is closing up and my voice comes out as a squeak.
She squirms a little in her chair and looks away. “I only knew Ben for the two-month period before I left school. After the accident you know I never went back. And even though my time with him was short-lived, it had a long-term impact.”
“You mean long-term because of the accident?” It’s all I can manage to ask. I say nothing more, not trusting my voice or its ability to fully convey my real question.
I can tell she’s nervous as she rubs her feet together then pulls them up to the chair. “No Dahlia, that’s not why I really left. I needed time to recover, but I didn’t go back because of the baby.”
My hand flies to my mouth. Baby? What baby? My heart’s pounding, but I bring my eyes back to hers and nod, urging her to tell me the rest.
“Oh God, Dahlia, that’s not where I should have started.”
She opens her mouth as if she wants to say more, but closes it abruptly. I take small shallow breaths watching her, waiting for her to tell me the rest. When she doesn’t I say very calmly, “Bell, go on, it’s okay. Just start wherever you need to.”
She turns to completely face me and places both of her feet firmly on the ground. Her face crumples. “I met Ben one night at the beginning of school at a frat party. We talked, but he ignored my advances and then disappeared. But that didn’t sway me. I was determined—I had this strange feeling that even though he said no, he meant yes. I was a little self-absorbed back then. One night at an after– rush party for Kappa Sigma, I was assigned as Ben’s little sister. Well, I begged the committee to be his little sister. That night, I took care of keeping the alcohol flowing for him and the new prospective pledges he was overseeing. We were all pretty drunk by the time he sent the pledges on a scavenger hunt to find a pair of pink lace panties.” She pauses as if stopping again to assess my reaction.
I have none. I am weighing the cold bare facts of what she’s saying and know what’s coming. She adjusts her ponytail and I try to calm my stomach. It feels like it’s leapt up into my throat. I’m feeling anxious and just want her to get it out.
“Please remember I was young and immature, and I’m not proud of how I acted,” she says and once again all I can do is nod. “Once the pledges went off on their hunt, I came on to him again. And just like all the other times, he refused. I promise he did. But then I followed him into the bathroom and made sure he couldn’t resist anymore. I locked the door, pulled my shirt off, and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the ground before asking him if black lace would do.”
I put my hand up in a stopping motion. I don’t need to know anymore. I got it.
“Dahlia, it was all me—honestly, it was.”
All me? What does that mean? He was in a relationship. He should have been able to walk away. God, he did actually cheat on me. Was he always a cheater?
My voice flat, emotionless, I ask, “Was it more than just the one time?”
I wait for her to meet my gaze. Not that it should matter, but for some reason it does. Did Ben have an ongoing affair and I never knew?
She nervously tugs on her bottom lip and shakes her head no. She puts her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt. It doesn’t really matter anyway. He still cheated. I start to feel dizzy.
With guilt evident in her voice she says, “Dahlia, I’m so sorry.”
“Bell, what did you mean by ‘baby’?” I manage to get out.
Her eyes fill with tears. “I got pregnant.”
I swallow. “You have a child together?”
“No Dahlia, we don’t. I gave the baby up for adoption after it was born.”
Freezing, I gasp. I can tell my eyes widen in disbelief at the magnitude of her words. Time stands still. Bell doesn’t say another word, as if letting the shock wear off.
Finally, I manage to mutter, “Did Ben know?” I brace myself for the answer.
She pauses and with a sad expression says, “No, he never knew. I never told him. We were supposed to meet the night I got in the accident; I was going to tell him then. But after the accident, it took months for me to recover. Once I did, I tried to contact him, but he never returned my calls.”
“Does your family know?”
She’s crying now as she tells me, “Yes, they all knew, but I made them promise to never say anything to anyone. I told them I was pregnant after the accident. Xander and River demanded to know who the father was. I knew it was Ben because I hadn’t slept with anyone since I had slept with him. I was still hoping he wanted more. They sought him out, wanted to know who he was, I think they even stalked him at some of the frat parties. But Mom demanded they leave him alone. In the end, when I decided to give the baby away, they were nothing but supportive. Honestly, without my family to help me through it, I don’t know what I would have done.”
And with those words it all falls into place—Xander’s anger at me the night we met and River’s reluctance to tell me anything.
I frantically search for something to say, but I have no words.
“Bell, I have to leave.” Then I somehow manage to get on my feet and dash toward the door. I know I’m going to throw up and hope I make it outside first.
Brigitte is in the kitchen as I hurry through and says, “Dahlia, I just made coffee for you and the missy.”
I don’t answer her; I can’t. Shock and anger pulse through me. Ben cheated on me. I always trusted him and believed him. He’s nothing but a fucking liar!
