“What the hell do you want from me?” I ask her. “Why would you want me, when I don’t want you?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she answers pleasantly. “Just know that I do. I want you. And if you know what is best for you, you won’t argue.”
My options fly through my head with lightning speed, and I quickly come to one conclusion.
I don’t have any.
“You can do whatever you want to do,” I tell her. “You’re an unbalanced bitch, and I can’t control that. Just know this, I don’t want you. I’ll never want you. You’re pathetic, and you’re nothing. I feel sorry for you.”
I ignore her shrieks of outrage as I walk away.
52
Corinne
I stare at my phone and wait for Michel to come.
I’ve never in my life felt such pain. It’s like my insides are being ripped out through my mouth, and I can feel every agonizing inch of the gutting process.
I collapse into Michel, crying when he arrives. The whole story comes out, as much of it as I know, and Michel stares at me in horror.
“He wouldn’t do this,” he says softly. “He wouldn’t.”
“He did,” I insist, twisting my hands. “I feel like he stabbed me in the heart, Michel. He might as well have.”
My husband.
My love.
The beautiful man I fell in love with.
I see him in my head when we got married...when he smiled at me from the end of the aisle, when he smiled at me from our bed on our honeymoon. His eyes were like gold, like caramel, and his arms were strong and mine, and he loved me, he loved me, and he’d never have hurt me. He’d have died first.
But it changed.
Over the years, it changed.
“We grew apart somehow,” I whisper to Michel. “I don’t even know how it happened. My schedule, and he got distant, and then he... I guess he sought out solace from someone else. She stroked his ego probably. He was flattered, and he wasn’t getting that from me.”
I choke on my words and Michel grabs me into a hug. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“It can’t be okay,” I whisper. “It will never be okay.”
Michel hugs me, and he smells good and he’s strong, and he’s so very much like Jude. I close my eyes.
The pain slices me like a knife.
“Jude screwed up,” Michel tells me. “No matter what issues your marriage had, he chose to cheat. This is on him, not you.”
“I know,” I all but whimper. “But God, it hurts. How could he do this to me?”
“He was making a selfish choice,” Michel answers, patting my back. “I doubt it had anything to do with you, and everything to do with himself.”
“But we’re married,” I tell him. “That means that everything he does affects me. He had to know what it would do to me. And he didn’t care. Look, I don’t want to bash your brother to you. I just don’t want to be alone, and...”
“Hush with that,” Michel replies, looking at me sternly. “You’re my sister. I’m here for you. We’ll work through this. Let me get Jude on the phone and—”
“No,” I interrupt sharply. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
Michel holds up his hands. “Okay. Don’t worry. It’s just you and me here.”
I slump into him and he holds me, and we stay like that for a very long time.
“Fuck you, Jude,” I eventually growl.
“Let’s go to Reflections,” Michel suggests. “Let’s take care of you now. I’ll go talk with Jude, and Zoe, too. She’s a member of my church. I’ll get this sorted.”
“It’s not yours to sort,” I point out.
“Hush,” he tells me. “Just get your purse. I’ll go get your bag.”
I nod, and I can’t swallow because of the pain, and within a minute, Michel is back with my bag.
“Let’s go, sis,” he says. “I’ll call Jackie and explain everything. You don’t have to worry.”
I climb into his old truck, and he buckles me in, and then he drives silently to the clinic. When we arrive, he does the paperwork and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“It’ll be okay,” he tells me again. “I promise. You go rest. I’ll go knock some sense into your husband.”
I don’t answer. I just let the nurse lead me down the hall so I can take a nap.
I’m so tired.
So so tired.
When I get up, maybe none of this will have happened.
Maybe it will have just been a nightmare.
53
Now
Corinne
Reflections Mental Facility I open my eyes.
“Oh my God.” My words are a whisper, and Dr. Phillips studies me again. “Jude was having an affair.”
He nods and looks away.
“You’ve known all along,” I say, remembering. “When did I... When did I block it out?”
He clears his throat. “Michel brought you and checked you in, and you were lucid in the beginning. But we gave you a sedative to help calm you, and you took a nap. When you woke, you had no recollection of anything. Not of the affair, not of trying to kill yourself, and not of still being pregnant.”
My hand flies to my belly. “I’m still pregnant.”
The doctor nods. “Yes. Part of our job here was to ensure the safety of your baby. We thought seeing Jude might jog your memories of...his affair, and might make it overwhelming for you when you actually did remember. We weren’t even sure if you would. Your brain has become very efficient at disassociating.”
“When I do something, I do it,” I say weakly. And my knees are weak. My hands are shaking. I can’t think. “How long have I been here?” I ask, trying to think.
“Five days,” he answers quietly. That hits me hard. It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long.
“Is Lucy here yet?” I ask him.
“I’ll check.” He picks up his phone and calls the receptionist.
I need someone.
Anyone familiar.
Anyone familiar to tell me that everything is going to be okay.
This is all too much.
“I’ll go get her,” he tells me. He gets up, and he leaves, and I stare at my hands, at my wedding ring. I want to take it off and throw it against the wall. How could Jude do this to me?
My Jude.
My beautiful Jude.
I twist the ring and twist it.
A few minutes later, Lucy comes in with Dr. Phillips.
Her face is dark and she knows.
“He told you?”
She nods. “That fucking prick.”
I close my eyes and she sits next to me, her arm around my shoulders.
“Thank you for being here,” I murmur as I bury my face in her sweater. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You think of a good divorce attorney,” she advises. She pats my back, and my mind is empty, and it’s nice to have one person I can count on.
54
Now
Jude
I slam my car door and stride for the entrance, and when I walk into Dr. Phillips’s area, his receptionist startles.
“I’ll tell him you’re here,” she stammers. I shake my head.
“Don’t bother.”
I open his door without hesitation.
He’s in front of me, his leg crossed, his notepad on his lap.
And Corinne is on the couch with Zoe.
Zoe’s arms are around her shoulders, and her face is buried in Zoe’s shirt. Zoe looks different... She’s wearing a baggy shirt and her hair is shorter and darker...but it’s definitely Zoe.
I stop.
My mouth falls open.
Shock and utter horror pounds through my veins.
“What the hell is going on here?”
55
Corinne
“What the hell is going on here?”
My husband stands in the doorway, stunned, disheveled and covered in blood. He looks from Lucy to me, and back to Lucy.
I sit up.
“I think I’m the one who should be asking that,” I say icily. “I remember, Jude. I remember everything.”
He’s stunned and astounded, and we all wait for him to speak.
“If that’s true, then why are you sitting there with her? This is Zoe.”
I pause, and I look at him, and I look at Lucy, and as I do, all of it falls into place.
The holes are filled.
With Zoe’s face.
I inhale sharply and yank away from Zoe’s arms. And I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’ve never been crazy.
It was her all along.
She made sure I never saw her face at the diner. She’s been angling for my husband. To hurt me.
Jessica. Lucy. Zoe.
They’re all the same.