Page 91 of Hidden Scars

Chapter Seventeen

Then

Hours later, I’m parked on the couch, staring blankly at the wall as I wait for Ryan to come back home. I think I’ve cried my body weight in tears and the pain is still as raw as it was when I first saw the photo.

That photo…

I’ve looked at it a hundred times, memorizing every inch of it. It’s burned into my memory, his hands on her hips, her hands clutching at his chest, and her nasty cooch rubbing against his cock. And then there are the details that my imagination had no trouble filling in for me. Like her tongue in his mouth and how he was turned on by her.

I wonder if he fucked her.

I feel numb. My body, my soul…it all feels numb, empty. I love him so much but I don’t even feel that right now. I feel nothing. Yet, somehow, the doubt and insecurity has crept in. Am I not pretty enough? Am I too fat? Have I been a total bitch to him? Is this my fault for not calling in sick to work tonight to go out with him? All these questions swirl through my brain, like a tornado of emotional destruction, leaving only agony in their wake.

The slamming of a car door startles me and I glance up at the clock.

Three a.m.

My mom always said nothing good ever happens after midnight. When I was a teenager, I thought she was crazy. It seemed like all the good stuff happened after midnight but I’ve been working at the bar long enough to know that her words ring true. Tonight just really drives the point home.

The front door opens and Ryan walks into the living room, stopping short when he sees me.

“Jesus, babe! What are you doing sitting in the dark?” He flips on the lamp beside the couch.

“Where have you been?”

He looks away from me for just a split second and I know that whatever comes out of his mouth next is going to be utter bullshit.

“I was over at my brother’s house. We just had a few beers and hung out.”

I nod as if I buy the crap he’s spewing.

“Why are you so late?” My voice is filled with fake concern. Hell, if he can lie right to my face, then I can do the same.

“Oh, we just got to talking and lost track of time.” Wow…he’s an even better liar than I realized. “I’m gonna jump in the shower and go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

I force a smile to my face and nod. As he starts heading down the hallway to the bathroom, I stand.

“Did you screw her?”

He freezes mid-stride and turns to me slowly. I see the panic clearly on his face before he masks it. “Huh?”

I take two slow deliberate steps toward him. “Did. You. Fuck. Her?” I say, enunciating each word clearly.

“Baby, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I’ll give him this, he’s good. It makes me wonder what else he’s been up to that I don’t know about.

“I have a picture. Would you like me to remind you?” I’m feigning sweet and innocent but I feel violent. His face pales and his eyes widen as he looks at me. I can practically hear his mind racing.

“Baby…,” he starts but stops and snaps his mouth shut.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” My tone is full of so much venom and hatred that he flinches at the weight of it. His eyes flick down to the bag I packed sitting by the front door.

“Babe…I just went to a strip club. It’s not that big of a deal,” he says, condescending, ratcheting my anger up another level.

“I saw the picture, Ryan! You were making out with her!”

A confused look crosses his face. “What are you talking about? I got a lap dance but I didn’t kiss anyone.”