It fucking hurts.
He doesn’t trust me and I hate that. Maybe I deserve it, but I hate it.
I shake my head and shove out of his arms. “I’m going home.”
“Lucy,” he growls, grabbing my wrist.
“Let me go,” I say quietly. “I know I screwed up in the beginning, but I didn’t know. Now I know and you still don’t trust me.”
“It isn’t about trust.”
“Yes,” I yell, pulling my arm from his grips. “It is.”
“Luc . . .”
“Later.”
I walk towards the door and stop when I realize I have no way home. I turn and glance at Blake and then Sheldon. “Can one of you give me a ride?”
They look to Heath. He scowls, but he nods briskly.
Sheldon stands and grabs his keys, then follows me out the door.
I try to keep it together, but the second I get into his truck, tears roll down my cheeks.
“Hey,” he says, starting it and pulling out. “Don’t let it get to you. In his own weird way, he’s protecting you.”
“I don’t need any more protecting,” I whisper. “I just need the truth.”
He smiles weakly. “It’ll come. Just give it time.”
We drive in silence for the rest of the trip home. When we arrive, Sheldon walks me to the door and makes sure I get in okay. I give him a mumbled goodbye, then lock the door.
I walk into my empty house.
And for the first time, I feel so damned alone in it.
***
“Yeah, she called me,” I say to my mom on the phone that night as I curl onto my couch watching some sappy romance movie.
“That woman is a nuisance,” Mom snaps. “Honestly, she was always a problem.”
“I know, Mom. She has nothing to go on, so let her try her hardest.”
“It’s not right, regardless. You and Gerard could have gone through this properly, but instead she’s shoved her nose in and caused problems.”
I sigh. “Gerard is a big boy. He’s choosing to let her do that.”
She hums. “I guess you’re right.”
“Listen, I’m going to head to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“How is that handsome man?”
I go silent.
“Lucy?”
“He’s, ah, good.”
“You’re lying. Your mother knows when you’re lying.”
I smile, even through my sadness. “I know you do. I’ll talk to you about it another time, okay? I don’t want to tonight.”
“Okay, love.”
“Hey, Mom?”
“Mmmm?”
“If you knew a young person was in danger, and they weren’t able to help themselves, would you help them or leave it up to other people?”
She considers that for a long moment. “I’d help them because I’m soft, and I don’t like the idea of a child or young person being in a situation they can’t choose.”
“Even if it’s dangerous and you’re interfering with something you’ve been told not to?”
“That depends on who told me and what kind of danger. You’re not getting yourself into any danger, are you Lucy?”
“No, not at all. It’s just . . . a question.”
“Well, I hope you keep safe and don’t step on any toes, love. Leave that man to do his job.”
“I will.”
“I know my daughter . . .”
I laugh softly. “I’ll leave him to it, Mom.”
“Okay. Good night, love.”
“Night, Mom.”
I hang up and lean back in the chair, thinking about Hayley and all the other girls in that place. I need to leave this to Heath, I know I do, but the idea of them being there alone bothers me. I hate knowing that they have no way out, but mostly I hate knowing I have to sit here and do nothing while he does whatever he’s doing to shut down that awful group.
He doesn’t trust me.
I hate that.
A knock sounds out at my door and I sigh, standing and walking over. It’s probably Heath. I’m not sure if I’m ready to face him, but I decide I probably won’t get much choice. I swing the door open and see Gerard standing there, his face red, his eyes glassy. Is he . . . crying?
“Did you ever love me?”
My heart sinks. “Gerard, what are you doing here?”
“Answer me!” he yells. “Did you ever love me?”
“Of course I did,” I cry. “God, of course I did. You were the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Then what happened?”
“An attack that changed my life, and you didn’t stand beside me.”
“I tried,” he croaks, running a hand through his hair. “I tried.”
My heart aches for him. “I know you did, but you didn’t give me your belief when I needed it. You let me down.”
He shakes his head and looks up to the sky before turning his eyes back to me. “I didn’t know how to handle it. Everything between us had always been so easy, so free, so simple. I’ve never been able to handle too much emotion and when you started sinking, I saw you differently. I just . . . didn’t want to face it.”
That makes my heart ache, but I’m glad I found out now instead of ten years down the track that my husband was an emotional cripple.