Page 19 of Against The Tide

I don’t know.

The truth surprises me. I’ve always been an open book with Kayla. Every argument Carl and I have had, every worry and fear that’s ever crossed my mind, I’ve shared everything with her—the good, the bad, and the absolutely crazy. Yet right now, she feels like a stranger to me.

“Carl said you ran off with⁠—”

“I left him,” I tell her bluntly. I wait for the words to sting or to feel something other than the anger that’s clawing at my insides as I recall the way he treated me.

Years of marriage and of trying to be something to him all tinged with regret over countless arguments where he squeezed my arm too tight or held me too roughly to get his point across. Cornered me to get his way or just didn’t take no for an answer.

“You left him? For good left him?”

“If I ever come back, it won’t be for him.”

“You don’t mean that. Besides, he’s going to need you…”

“Do you really believe that? Because I don’t and he doesn’t either. To quote him, I’m worthless…a nobody. So, yeah, I mean it.”

“You’ve been married for…years.”

The way she says that like the length of time should trump everything else makes me laugh. It shows how little she actually knows of my marriage. Maybe I didn’t confide in her the way I thought I did.

“We’ve been married for eight years and he didn’t even know my age.” I keep going around and around the kitchen island, walking in furious circles, waiting for the physical pain to paralyze me.

“Avery…”

“Eight years and he was screwing someone else.” Her audible swallow appeases me somewhat. Maybe she’s beginning to understand why I left Carl and why I’m done. “In all our eight years of marriage, the only things he’s called me with the exception of my name are worthless, stupid, and useless. He did call me a bitch a couple of times and insinuated I’m a whore too, but you know what he never called me?”

Kayla’s silent, something that’s rare given she can talk almost anyone into pretty much anything.

“He never called me babe.” I stop in front of the sink, grabbing a cup from the cabinet so I can warm some water to make myself tea.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, sounding like she’s done trying to get me to see her side of sense. “What can I do to help you? Do you need anything? Clothes? Money?”

“Honestly, Kayla, I have no idea what I need right now.”

“Okay, talk me through what you have with you and what Iris needs? Surely she needs her things?”

“I’ll have to figure out how to get her new things.”

“No, I can bring the important bits to you.”

After missing Dad’s funeral, I think I was begrudging her, but the way she’s offering to go out of her way to help us…I guess I can’t stay angry at her for much longer.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What do you need? I know where you keep the spare key to the house. I’m pretty certain I know your closet better than you do, and I feel so terrible for being—” She stops, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Please, let me do something for you and my goddaughter…”

“You can’t come all the way to Virginia just to bring us our things. Besides, with everything going on with work, aren’t you busy?”

“Why are you in Virginia?”

“I’m staying with Rafe’s sister.”

“Why? Did his mother send you there?”

“No, Callie and I are friends and…I had nowhere else to go.” It pains me to admit that on the phone to Kayla. She should’ve been the first person I thought of to go to for help. Instead, I ran to Rafe and Nora.

As though we’re back on the same wavelength, she says, “You could’ve come to me.”