Page 132 of Then You Happened
“Jack . . .” I say with numb lips. “I don’t . . . I—”
“I can explain,” he says interrupting me.
“I trusted you.” I can see each word reach out and punch him. I can see each syllable make impact.
But they don’t hurt him enough.
Nothing can.
He lied to me. He made me believe him and then he lied when I trusted.
“I promise. There’s an explanation. Everything is not what she said. That is not what—fuck!”
“But it is what she said.”
I can’t breathe.
Oh, God, why can’t I take a damn breath?
“No.”
“Was Fletcher your brother?” The question might as well be acid in my throat.
His nod is subtle, but the defeat in his eyes has me covering my ears and shaking my head, not wanting to know. Knowing that no matter what he tries to explain, it will never be good enough.
It’ll never be enough.
It will never make any of this any better.
Everything we had was all a fabrication so he could get something he wanted.
I finally believed in my ability to trust again . . . and . . . and . . . I vomit the contents of my stomach on the side of the driveway. Over and over until there is nothing left in me but despair.
“Tatum.” He puts his hand on my back and I jump away from him again.
“Don’t you touch me!” I scream through clenched teeth as the shock gives way to anger, as the trust gives way to deceit. I double over, and my arms wrap around my midsection as I stumble a few more feet toward the house.
“Goddamn it, Lauren!” He’s still shouting at the top of his lungs, and the horses begin to stir at the disruption. “It has to be about you, doesn’t it? Always about fucking you. You
didn’t have my attention, so you had to make sure you stole it by coming here. You didn’t like that, for once, I’d found my own happy, so you had to come here and ruin it. You . . .” It’s the broken sound in his voice that breaks me further when I thought I was already broken enough.
My tears slip over.
“It’s your fault you didn’t tell her the truth. Not mine.”
“Shut your fucking mouth! Shut it, or I swear to God, I will disown you as a sister, and the next time you fall into a bottle, I’m going to let you drown. I won’t pick up when you call or bail you out or help you hire a lawyer when your piece-of-shit dead husband decides to take those kids from you!”
“You wouldn’t dare.” She laughs and is still laughing as Will comes barreling out of the stables to see what the commotion is about.
“Jack?” he calls out, confusion and concern ringing through.
“Get her to the bunkhouse,” Jack orders Will, flinging his arm in the general direction of the building. “Get her out of my fucking sight.”
But when Jack turns to look at me, when our eyes meet, all I can do is shake my head and reject the words he hasn’t even spoken yet. Reject the apology and fear in his eyes, because he doesn’t have any right to feel them when I’m the one who was just blindsided.
“No.”
It’s on repeat with the shake of my head as I step back up the verandah steps.
