Sucking air through his gritted teeth, he tapped his fingers on his desk and glared at me. “My concern is not Asher’s…”
“Anderson…” I cut in, shaking my head when he ignored me.
“… long term care. He has to accept that he can’t stay secluded in a hospital, my hospital, room until he gets a grip.”
My mouth fell open, my shock evident the more he said.
“And you’re right, he’s been here for a few weeks now, and so far I can see nothing to keep him here other than his emotional difficulty. I run a hospital, not a mental health unit. Asher’s health, according to this report, is excellent, and unless he has a physical illness, there’s no more I am able to do for him.”
Unable to listen to anymore, I stood up, frantically chewing on my lip to stop the words that were rushing up my throat from tumbling out. “No problem, doctor. I’ll make arrangements for Anderson’s transfer first thing in the morning.”
He finally smiled, a cold and cruel smile. “Thank you. I’m sure you understand my predicament.”
“Yes, of course,” I answered as I opened the door. “It’s called heartlessness.”
I didn’t wait for his answer before I slammed his door shut, found the nearest bathroom, and screamed into the two-by-two cubicle.
TEARS POPPED IN MY EYES and I couldn’t hold back the excited laughter as I rushed up the path. Dave was as thrilled as me, his tail whipping the bush beside the front door and sending leaves and bits of twigs snapping in every direction. His kisses were as eager as mine but wetter.
“Dave,” I breathed as I buried my face into his fur.
He whined in return, his chastisement at my disappearance making my heart heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry, buddy.”
Ben stood on the doorstep, watching us with a frown. “You do know you can come see him any time you want, Kloe.”
I smiled awkwardly. It still hurt to look at my husband, his infidelity making me both angry and full of sadness. “Thank you. I’ve just come to tell you I’ll be moving into my own place at the weekend so I’ll come pick Dave up Saturday morning.”
He stared at me as if shocked then slowly nodded. “You want to come in… coffee, or I have wine?”
“Is she here?” I hated that I had asked but there was no way I could have walked into the house if that blonde bitch was sprawled all over my own fucking furniture.
“Of course not!”
He spun around abruptly, disappearing and leaving the front door open for me. Dave trotted inside and I followed. It was strange; it was my house, it had been for three years, yet now it seemed like someone else’s and I was a guest. I stood in the hallway, suddenly nervous.
“Well?” Ben shouted from the kitchen. “Coffee or wine?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
He laughed, nodding as he took a bottle out of the fridge and reached for two glasses.
“Bad day?” he asked as I followed him through to the living room.
“Something like that.”
“You taken on this missing boy case?”
“Yeah.” His question surprised me. Ben hadn’t asked about my work for a very long time.
“What’s he like?” he asked as he sat next to me on the sofa, propping his leg underneath him like always.
“Frightened. Angry.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
An uncomfortable silence curdled my stomach and I took a large gulp of the wine. “This is nice.”
Ben sighed, catching onto my nervous chatter. “Kloe.”
“Is it a new one?”
“Kloe.” His hand landed on my arm and I winced at the touch. “Look at me.”
Making sure to clamp my heart inside my chest first, I looked at him, begging that my heartache wasn’t as visible as it felt.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I nodded quickly. “I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he said quietly, his eyes filling with tears. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do? Do what?” I stuttered, taking another anxious drink and hoping the alcohol would hurry up and numb the broken parts inside.
“Go. We can make this work, Kloe. I never meant to…”
“No!” I held my hand up, slamming my glass onto the table as I shot upright. “We can’t make this work, Ben. I can’t be with someone I can’t trust. I just can’t. You hurt me, so much, and all I can see when I close my eyes is her. You and her. In this house. On my bed.”
He lowered his eyes, his face full of pain and guilt.
“We made a pact, Ben. When we got married.”
“Yes, we did.” His temper snapped as he came to stand before me. “We swore to trust one another. I know that, but you didn’t ever trust me, did you? Even before Sarah!”
“What?” I stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You never trusted me enough to share your feelings, your emotions. You’re always so closed off, Kloe. It’s like you bolt down everything inside, like your past doesn’t matter and I’m not important enough for you to share that with me.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Is it?” he cried, his face turning red with anger. “All these people you help, that are always more worthy of a piece of you than me, they can’t heal your wounds, Kloe. They can’t help you to move past your own pain until you start to face your own problems.”
Tears filled my eyes, spilling over onto the hotness of my cheeks as I stood frozen to the spot with the words I knew were the truth.
“You help them all, don’t you? You think that by helping them come to terms with their pasts that you don’t have to face your own. But what about us? What about the pain I’m in when you wake beside me screaming, sweat dripping off every inch of you? Or when you sit in that Goddamn pantry, stuffing yourself until you’re sick just in case you never taste food again. You think I don’t know about that?”
I shook my head, backing away.
“Or the way you make excuses for every fucking slice on your skin, every bruise and new scar? You think I don’t know?”
“Stop it!”
“But you know what hurts the most, Kloe?” His voice lowered as he wiped away the devastation that leaked down his face. “Every tear you shed when I would make love to you. Yet you fought it, fought my love! You gave me every orgasm with a piece of your heartache, your pain. Yet you couldn’t ever tell me. You couldn’t ever trust me. And just once I wanted to give pleasure without feeling that damn pain, that feeling of hopelessness.”
“Well, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t talk properly. The hiccups hurt my already aching chest. “I’m glad Sarah isn’t broken. I’m so happy that you can make her come and smile at the same time.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean that.”
“But you know what?” I poked at his chest, wanting his heart to hurt as much as mine did. “Those tears every time you were inside me were because I loved you. Because you loved me. Every tear was a tear of happiness, of love. Sex didn’t hurt anymore; sex didn’t make me want to vomit. Sex gave me pleasure instead of sending me into the pit of hell.” Another poke. “That’s what my tears were for.” Another poke. “They were tears of fucking hope. Of love. Of trust.”