p the steps to my apartment. I threw my door open, not bothering to close it as I dashed for my bathroom. Then I fell to my knees and started spewing up everything from the cafe.
I gripped the toilet as my stomach contracted. Was this what dying felt like? Because it felt like I was slowly wasting away. My throat burned and my eyes were dripping with tears. I was trying to cry and heave at the same time and I kept choking myself. I coughed and spit. My body was rebelling against every decision I had just made. My hands fell to my sides as I rested my cheek against the cold seat of the toilet, my chest panting for air.
I felt disgusting.
Useless.
Alone.
I felt my eyes fluttering closed. My body was sinking to the linoleum floor of my bathroom as the darkness started to drape over me. It had been almost a month since I’d gotten a decent amount of sleep. If it wasn’t the raging headache or the stress from work, it was the nausea. And it was finally catching up to my body. I slowly slid from the toilet seat and dropped to the floor, propping my cheek against my arm and allowing my eyes to close.
But before my body was able to drift off to sleep, I heard the toilet flush.
Then I felt a pair of arms wrapping around my body.
Then I heard that voice again. That husky, ethereal voice that never ceased to make my skin crawl.
“On the count of three, I’m going to lift you, okay? One… two… three.”
Then… I was floating.
Just like I always did when I was in his arms.
Fifteen
Graham
“Kids, you guys stay here.”
“Daddy? Who’s that?”
“Just stay here, guys.”
Seeing the horror on Libby’s face was what I was trying to avoid. I rushed out onto the porch, hoping she would stop when I called after her. It wasn’t what it looked like. I knew what she was thinking. I tried very hard to keep my sex life separated from my home life. My kids were my world, especially once their mother started taking a turn for the worst. I ran down the porch, trying to keep my kids back in the house as I yelled for her.
“Libby! Wait!”
She skidded out of the driveway and I yanked my phone from my pocket. I called my nanny that had left only moments before and told her to turn back around. I needed her to come stay with the kids so I could take care of something important.
Because Libby was important.
I ran back into the house and got the kids playing in their rooms. They wouldn’t stop asking me who the crying lady was, and it made my heart ache. I’d never meant to hurt Libby, but I made myself a promise long ago to keep my kids away from my personal life. I was a very busy man with needs that needed tending to, and I wasn’t afraid to reach out and fulfill them. What I didn’t want was a revolving door of women who wanted to act like they enjoyed my children to save face for me.
“Mr. Alexander? I’m back.”
“Thank fuck. I’m sorry, Melinda, but I have to go,” I said.
“What should I tell the kids?” she asked.
“Tell them I’ll be home for dinner!”
I grabbed my suit coat and barreled out the door. I fished my keys out of my pocket as the garage door opened. I was going to need my fastest car. I wasn’t letting Libby get away. I knew I had a lot of explaining to do, but now that she knew I had children it would be easier than lying to her. I had been absent ever since my business trip and very unavailable for her once I got back, but that wasn’t because I was ignoring her.
It was because my children had needed me.
I raced down the road, weaving in and out of traffic. I had to get to her. I had to explain to Libby what was going on once and for all so I didn’t lose her. With any other woman in any other situation, I would’ve let it go. But something in my gut didn’t want to with her. Watching the way her face fell and the sadness behind her eyes was too much to bear. It was too much at the wedding, and it was too much now. Something inside of me wanted to protect her. Something inside of me wanted to keep her happy.
And she was hurting because of me.