Текст книги "Every Wrong Reason"

Автор книги: Rachel Higginson

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

30. I can’t let him go.

Three days later, on the morning of our next mediation, I prayed for the flu.

When I did not immediately start puking, I prayed for an earthquake. When that didn’t work, I prayed for a tornado. Then an alien invasion.

And finally, a zombie plague.

Then I decided I should probably stop wishing thousands of people had to die just so I could skip seeing Nick again.

It wasn’t that I wanted thousands of people to die or a zombie pandemic to sweep the globe. Not really. I just thought, maybe it was more favorable than coming face-to-face with a man that was so pissed off at me, I felt like my entire house needed cleansing.

I pulled up Google on my phone. Was it possible to hire a witch doctor to hoodoo the shit out of my house and at the same time give me a non-life-threatening trip to the emergency room?

Chicago area witch doctors.

My phone rang, changing the screen to Kara’s name. I answered with a sigh. “Hey.”

“You sound glum.”

I decided it was better to go with the truth. “The only witch doctors Google pulled up are on LinkedIn. I swore to myself I would never get a LinkedIn profile. I don’t care how many emails they send me a day.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” she laughed. “You’re officially crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” I argued. “I just want the flu or maybe malaria. Typhoid would be fine.”

There were thirty seconds of complete silence before Kara recovered. “Please don’t bring typhoid to school with you. I’m not sure if our health plan covers typhoid.”

“If I find the right witch doctor, you’re not going to have to worry about a thing. It will be an isolated incident. I just decided that I don’t really want to kill thousands of people.”

“Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“As your therapist, I’m going to need you to separate yourself from your delusions and tell me five real things that happened in your life this morning.”

Surprised laughter bubbled up inside me and I started to feel just the tiniest bit better. “Unfortunately you’re not my therapist. Also, does that work with your students?”

“How should I know? I just made that shit up.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Thanks! But if we’re honest, most of what I use is made up.”

“Wow, K. Summa cum laude from Northwestern is really coming in handy, huh?”

She let out a dramatic sigh, “I do what I can.” With a delicate throat clear she added, “And it was magna cum laude. I was off by three-tenths of a point.”

“My apologies.”

“You are forgiven.” Another pause. “Are you coming to school today?”

“No.”

“Mediation?”

“Yes.”

“This is your second sick day this week.”

“This one was planned.”

She made a tsking sound with her tongue and then said, “Give him hell.”

It was my turn to fidget nervously. I hadn’t told Kara any of the drama with Nick other than he had come to the vet when Annie got hit and taken me home. But I could tell she knew something went down. She had been giving me funny looks all week. I also knew she was holding her tongue for my sake, but part of me had wanted her to demand to know what went on.

I was dying to tell someone. I wanted to hear an outside opinion. I wanted her advice, her perspective, her curse words.

But I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Instead of blurting out what had happened, I kept it locked tightly inside of me. I felt like I had to protect it… protect Nick. Even if Kara would have ended up on his side of the argument, I was reluctant to put our marriage, or what was left of it, on trial.

I was tired of other people’s opinions. I was tired of looking elsewhere for answers and ignoring the strong, still voice inside me.

I was sick and tired of dissecting every single thing that Nick did wrong and giving it to a jury of my peers to decide how to feel for me.

I needed to figure this out for myself. And fast.

When I didn’t respond to Kara, she backed off and said, “Or give him really polite, pleasant discussion.”

I laughed, despite the seriousness of my thoughts. “I’m honestly not sure what he’s going to get out of me today. I guess I’ll decide when I get there.”

She gasped, “You don’t mean the house? Not Annie. You really have lost your mind. Oh, my god, did you already call the witch doctor?”

“Stop,” I laughed. “You’re the crazy one. Not me.”

“I trust you, Kate. You know that I do. But this year has been emotionally draining for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt because you’re tired. Promise me, you’ll be careful today… that you’ll think everything through? Even if it’s hard and you don’t feel up to it?”

Now those were some words I could live by. “I promise.” And I meant it. I would do exactly as she asked. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”

“Mwah! Love you. Good luck today.”

“Thanks. Love you too.”

We disconnected and I felt marginally better.

Marginally.

As in just barely.

Most of me was still a pile of nerves and sweating pits.

I had taken the day off because I was tired of rushing into mediation after school and I was tired of mediation affecting my teaching and thoughts and general motor functions all day long.

So today I took it easy.  Annie still needed twenty-four-hour care, so she had spent the last couple days with my parents while I taught. I was going to pick her up after mediation today and keep her for the weekend.

For all of their faults, my parents were really good with her. I knew she was in good hands and they were surprisingly good-willed about keeping her for me.

I hadn’t told Nick about it because I wasn’t quite sure what he would have said.

Just kidding, I was terrified he would demand to keep her.

And also, I was just terrified of talking to him.

So I didn’t.

And he hadn’t tried to reach out to me.

It stung a little that he hadn’t called or stopped by. Okay, more than a little. It hurt deeply. I was embarrassed and heartbroken and a million other things I didn’t even want to name. But I also knew that it wasn’t his responsibility to forever chase after me.

As much as I wanted to be chased.

He was right; I had to figure this out.

I had to decide what I wanted. And in the meantime I had to go to mediation and fight with him over who gets the dog.

What had I done to my life?

Mediation was scheduled for early afternoon, so I took the morning to laze around the house. I ate breakfast, an actual breakfast. Not just coffee. I actually made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I took my time getting ready, dressed carefully, paid attention to my makeup and hair. It wasn’t that I was trying to impress Nick more than usual; I just never had this much time in the morning.

Usually I was a whirlwind of the fastest blow dry in the history of hair, a quick brush of foundation and some swipes of mascara before I jabbed earrings in, slipped on work-appropriate clothes and grabbed coffee on my sprint through the door.

This morning I sipped coffee on my couch while watching the Today Show and got ready without stress. I made sure all of my hair dried and I added bronzer and blush to my makeup routine.

So basically I was almost late for mediation because it took so long to get ready.

My official prognosis? Being a woman was officially the worst.

There were way too many steps to just looking halfway decent. Men had it so easy.

Mediation was back at Ryan Templeton’s office. Mr. Cavanaugh had hosted the last failed session in his smaller office tucked away on the outskirts of the city proper. It had been a stark deviation from the expensive, swanky suites in the heart of downtown, but I had felt more at ease there. I hadn’t minded the faded furniture or scuffed conference table.

Mr. Cavanaugh had offered coffee and pastries. I’d had two. Ryan Templeton offered expensive bottled water and no snacks. These offices were meant to impress… meant to intimidate.

And they did that in spades.

I checked in with the security guard and walked slowly to the elevator. I felt nervous energy gaining momentum and I wasn’t quite sure what would come of it. I had no idea what I was thinking or what I would say upstairs. My mind was a tornado of confusion. Spinning and spinning and spinning.

To add paranoia to my already agitated nerves, this session felt final for some reason. I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever we decided or said here would be permanent and lasting.

I felt equal parts sick to my stomach and anxious. I leaned against the back wall of the empty elevator and closed my eyes. My arms were crossed over my chest, holding my body in a tightened cocoon of protection. I couldn’t relax or I would fall apart. I had to physically hold myself together or I would splinter into a thousand unfixable pieces.

Someone else entered the elevator before the doors could shut and my eyes popped open, surprised and not surprised at the same time.

Nick.

I could sense his presence before I saw him. It was something in his energy that was inexplicably tied to mine. I felt him in the atmosphere, in the very atoms dancing in the air around us. I could smell him. Feel the heat of his body even from several feet apart.

Okay, maybe not in the real sense of the word, but I knew the feel so intimately that I could easily imagine the sensation of his body heat warming me, pressing into my skin, turning everything inside me into molten lava.

“Nick,” I whispered, unable to stop myself.

He didn’t turn around. He didn’t acknowledge me. He stood near the doors, his finger retracting from the buttons. “You forgot to push for the floor.”

I nibbled my bottom lip and shook myself. I was a mess.

“Thanks,” I mumbled weakly.

The elevator started with a jerk and began the ascent to the eleventh floor. I held my breath for as long as I could, then let it out with a forced puff of air.

I watched Nick’s back with fascinated awe, wondering how to engage him. His spine was absolutely straight. His shoulders were taut with tension and from the view of his profile that he gave me I could see his jaw flex and release.

He was dressed nicely again, gray slacks and a light blue oxford with a stylish gray vest that made the outfit look expensive and tailored. Maybe it was expensive and tailored. His hair had been styled back from his face. He wore the watch I bought him two Christmases ago. His shoes were shiny.

Oh, my god, who was this man? 

My heart thumped painfully.

“Annie’s better,” I blurted.

He turned his head slightly, still not looking at me. “Your dad called me.”

“Oh.” My parents were traitors. So was my dog.

So was my heart.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Gripped by fear and doubt, I grabbed Nick’s wrist and pulled him to a stop.

“Wait,” I pleaded.

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even turn his head. “I want this over, Kate. I want it finished.”

I let go of his wrist and he shifted his shoulders, adjusting his shirt without physically tugging it into place. He walked out of the elevator with purpose, striding straight for the conference room.

Mr. Cavanaugh waited for me in the greeting area again. His expression read concern and maybe something else… maybe something like pity.

“Ms. Carter,” he nodded when I finally found the courage to step out of the elevator.

“Hi, Mr. Cavanaugh.”

His voice gentled and he asked, “Are you all right?”

I swallowed thickly and looked at the hallway where Nick had disappeared, “Is anyone ever all right during these things?”

He chuckled at my candor. “No, Ms. Carter. They are not.” We had stood there for another moment before he gestured toward the conference room. “Should we go get settled?”

I didn’t verbally respond, but I did follow after him– a feat I didn’t think I was capable of.

Nick stood in the corner of the cool room, in a quiet discussion with his lawyer. They both flicked glances our way when we entered the room, but that was it. Just a glance of bitter acknowledgment that I had entered into his space. That was all I got.

I sat down in one of the rolling leather chairs and tried not to let self-pity swallow me whole. I straightened my spine and masked my expression with false bravado. I would not let him see me ruffled.

This man had been in my bed three nights ago. This man had held me all night long. He had wrapped his arms around me like he never wanted to let go and fought with me the next morning when I suggested that what we did was a mistake.

He wasn’t indifferent to me. He was the opposite of that.

I held on to that small portion of hope. I clung to it. I couldn’t sit here and enter into this discussion if I really thought Nick hated me.

When had that changed?

I reached for the cold bottle of water that had been set out for me and took a shaking sip.

Nick took a seat across from me and his lawyer followed. Marty Furbish walked into the room and took a seat at the head of the table. Ryan made an announcement reminding us where the restrooms were and that we should ask if we needed anything, but I barely heard anything he said.

When we were finally settled, Nick leveled me with a steely gaze and said with finality, “I want this finished today. Whatever it takes… however long it takes… I want this to be done.”

The lawyers looked at me next. I forced words from my lips. Words I wasn’t sure I felt. “Me, too.”

Marty let out a pleased sigh. Mr. Cavanaugh relaxed just barely, but I felt it next to me. He wanted this over as much as I did.

“Good,” Ryan Templeton nodded. “Now, if we can all apply a little give and take, we can finish this part and move on to the next. You’ll be divorced before you know it.” His smile was meant to ease the tension in the room. But it did the opposite.

I felt a panic attack slide over my skin, squeezing my lungs and blurring my vision.

I thought we were here because we couldn’t stand each other? I thought that was the whole point of it?

So why did it feel like my heart had been shredded? Why couldn’t I breathe? This wasn’t like before when the sorrow of our failed marriage had weighed so heavily on me. This new pain pressed me into the earth… threatened to bury me alive.

This was worse somehow. This felt like I would never be able to catch my breath again. This felt like endless drowning and an emptiness so vast I would be forever lost in it.

Somehow I had stopped worrying about how much we’d hurt each other in the past and started worrying about how much we would hurt without each other in the future.

A few months ago, I couldn’t imagine living my life in the same pattern of crazy we had been stuck in. And now I couldn’t imagine my life without this man in it.

What was I doing?

Was I making the biggest mistake of my life?

Yes.

Yes.

I had asked myself that question countless times over the last several months, but I finally had an answer.

Yes.

A loud, resounding yes.

This was the biggest mistake of my life.

My lips were too dry. My mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton balls. My throat was prickly and sore. But I couldn’t drink enough water.

I couldn’t quench this thirst.

My hands trembled badly, but there was nothing to calm my nerves.

I finally realized that I wanted to fight for my marriage and it was too late. I had finally realized that this man was everything to me. Even with his faults and flawed humanity. Even with our rocky history and hurtful past. This man, my husband, was my life. He was everything to me. He was my past and present. He was my future. He was my heart. My very soul.

But we had already announced our divorce to every person we knew.

He had moved out.

He’d gotten a new life.

We’d hired lawyers.

We were smack dab in the middle of mediation.

I had to go through with this. I had already made the decision. I just had to buck up and go through with it.

These were my consequences to pay. I had made this bed, now I needed to lay in it.

Forever.

Forever and ever and ever, amen.

Oh, damn.

Oh, shit.

Shit shit shit.

“She can have it all.” I heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. Nick kept talking. “The house, the dog. Whatever she wants, she can have it.”

“Nick,” his lawyer spit out. “I would recommend rethinking your position-”

“I don’t want it,” he growled. “I don’t want any of it.”

Tears filled my eyes. “But I do.”

I made a new decision. I decided it didn’t matter what we had done or who knew about the divorce or what anybody else in the entire world thought.

I could not let this man go.

I could not.

“Yeah, we know,” Ryan spit out rather unprofessionally. “That’s why you’re getting it.”

I jerked my chin and a lone tear escaped, rolling down my cheek. “No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t just want the house and the dog or the things. I want everything, Nick. I want… I want you.”

Looking at him across the table, I realized something so vitally important that it knocked every last breath out of me. I didn’t want a divorce because I didn’t love him anymore. I had never stopped loving him. Against all reason, against every valid argument I’d made against him and our marriage… I loved him.

His entire body reacted with my words. He sat back in his chair with a swift pull of motion. His head cocked back and his blue eyes flashed with something strong and piercing. “What?”

“I surrender,” I whispered raggedly. Whatever courage I had left, I gathered quickly to hold his furious glare.

“Kate.” His whisper was agonized, full of conflict and turmoil.

I struggled to swallow and smooth out my trembling voice. It didn’t help. “I surrender, Nick. To this.” I waved my hand between us. “To us. To you.”

Just as abruptly as he had leaned back, he shot forward and placed one palm on the shiny conference table. “You’re doing this now?”

Fear boiled inside me, superheating my insides, making me feel wobbly and off balance. But I had to get this out. I had to say this or I would hate myself for the rest of my life. “I don’t want a divorce.”

Mr. Cavanaugh jumped in, hoping to rescue me. “Ms. Carter, I think you should take a minute to think about this.”

I shook my head, acknowledging him, but not wanting to waste time to address him. “Nick, I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

“You can’t do this now.” He sounded pained, shocked and beyond confused. “Just the other night-”

“I’m not asking anything from you. I… I don’t even really know if I want anything from you. I just… I just can’t do this. I can’t go through with this. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His words were a punch through the air.

Confusion roiled through me and I thought I would be sick. More tears spilled over and a shuddering sob racked my chest. I fumbled for my purse somewhere on the floor.

“For what?” Nick demanded. He stood up. His voice grew louder, commanding, desperate. “Katie, for what?”

I glanced wildly around the room, my eyes bouncing from his lawyer to mine, then out the window at the traffic far below.

“For this,” I whispered. “For all of it. For everything.”

Nick fell back in his chair, defeated and out of breath. I was his opposite– like usual. I jumped to my feet and for the second time since we began mediation, I fled the room.

I nodded once to Ryan Templeton, then turned to Mr. Cavanaugh. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Cavanaugh.”

My feet stumbled over themselves as I raced out of the room. I needed fresh air. I needed to find a dark place so I could curl into the fetal position and rock myself into a stupor.

I needed so much tequila.

Like all the tequila.

A hand caught me just as I reached the elevator. For a fast second, my lungs filled with breath and hope zinged through me. But when I turned around and found that it was Mr. Cavanaugh and not Nick, my entire spirit crumpled.

“Ms. Carter… Kate, are you sure about this? Are you sure this is what you want? Because if you leave today, we are basically giving up our position. It will be much harder to argue in your favor.”

“I’m so sorry,” I sniffled. “But I’m sure. I’m positive. I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

His expression softened and some of his frightened concern receded. “If it helps any, I don’t think he wanted the divorce any more than you did.”

I shrugged helplessly. My chin trembled too violently for me to respond. I didn’t know if it helped or not. I didn’t know if it was true or not. I didn’t know what to say.

Seeing that I couldn’t speak anymore, he patted my shoulder with his hand and gave me a sad smile. “Good luck, Kate. I hope it works out for you.”

“Me too,” I whispered, even while I knew I didn’t deserve for it to work out. Even while I knew it probably wouldn’t.

I stepped into the elevator and he let me go down alone. I was thankful for that. I was thankful for him. As far as divorce lawyers went, he was one of the good ones.

Not that I knew very many.

The elevator doors closed behind me and took me to the ground floor. I left the building, walked to my car and got inside.

I drove home. I walked inside my house. I collapsed on my couch and I started to cry.

I didn’t stop for a very long time.

Nick never came after me.