How could I possibly forget? “Mmmmhmmm.” I nodded.
“And I thought I’d pay him a little visit. I had a couple questions for him.”
I gazed past him and whistled for Archie, who thankfully came running back. “Well, like I said, I’m sorry, but you missed him.” I turned to leave.
“Hey,” he stopped me, and I turned, exasperated. “How’s that sick mother?” His bushy brows raised.
“Much better.”
“Glad to hear that.” He wasn’t buying it. It was written all over his wrinkly face. I really just wanted this conversation over with, and it was obvious that Tanner and I were gonna have to do something to keep this guy’s mouth shut.
His lips tightened and he leaned into his walking stick. “Tanner told me you’d left town.”
“I did, but he offered me a job, so I reconsidered and came back. I’m housecleaning the cabins,” I lied through my teeth.
“Well, you just be careful with that one.” He turned to leave. Man, Tanner was right. This guy really didn’t like him.
I tilted my head. “Why would you say that?” Now he’d piqued my curiosity.
“Well…” He tugged on his flannel cap with the ear flaps, straightening it. “Just after his wife died so mysteriously.”
“In a car accident?” My nose wrinkled. I wouldn’t call that a huge mystery.
“So that’s what he told you?” His busy brows went up to the wool on his fuzzy hat. “That poor woman did not die in her car. That is for certain.” He shook his head and snorted. “Just, be careful.” And with that, Hal turned and limped down the steps to his truck.
Once I watched his car disappear down the road, I turned back inside. I tried to go back to the dishes, but I couldn’t get the odd conversation out of my head. The old man acted like Tanner killed his wife.
No, he couldn’t have.
But still, it was a red flag. Okay, maybe not a red one, but a yellow one for sure. I’d ignored every one of them with Angelo. And that had turned out just swell.
No. My heart told me that Tanner was the sweetest, kindest, most gentle man I’d ever met. But maybe that was just very naive of me to believe. I’d been wrong about people in the past. But, I was older. Wiser.
Fuck it.
I dried my hands and started toward the staircase. On my way up, I glanced over at the door, then to Archie, whose brow was now raised looking at me like don’t do it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said to him. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.” Oh, my lord. I was justifying myself to a dog.
As I started up the stairs, he followed me. I guess he figured if you can’t beat em’ join em’.
I snuck down the hall to the door. Reaching above the frame, I felt around. Typically, a lot of newer homes had those emergency door keys hidden above them. Mine and Angelo’s did, which was why I was always afraid of him busting in on me in the bathroom, but thankfully, he’d always let me be.
My fingers rolled across all the dust bunnies, then finally, I felt the small, metal key. Bingo. I quickly snatched it and went to work on the tiny keyhole. Within a few seconds the lock clicked open.
Archie whimpered next to me as I reached for the handle. “I know. I’m the worst. I just need to know. Can you understand that?” Angelo’s office was always locked. Always. So, locked doors in a home kinda freaked me out. Surely, if Archie knew, he’d understand.
He heaved a hefty dog-sigh and turned his head the other way, as if he didn’t want to aid and abet.
With a heavy breath, I turned the knob, and opened the door.
And then I gasped as every ounce of blood rushed straight from my head to my feet.
Motes of dust sprinkled along the sunbeams pouring through the blinds, trickling down on a tiny, white crib along the center of the wall. A tiny, blanket hung over the rails that looked brand new. The pine walls were painted in a pale green and along them hung cute little photos of animals. A rocking chair sat in the corner of the room collecting dust and next to it lay a bin full of tiny, stuffed animals.
I stood there for several moments staring at the nursery, blinking, trying to wrap my brain around it.
Finally, I willed my shaky legs to move into the room. On the tiny, white dresser were two framed photos. One was obviously an ultrasound image and the second was the only image of Tanner’s wife I’d seen in the home. She was just as beautiful as I’d expected for someone as handsome as Tanner. She had a short, brown pixie cut and a wide, perfect smile. It was one of those really beautiful maternity photos that women take showcasing their growing belly.
I put the frame back down and closed my eyes, swallowing hard. My mind swirled with so many thoughts I grew dizzy. I braced my hands on the dresser in hopes the room would stop spinning.
“We were going to name her Olivia,” Tanner’s voice echoed behind me.
I turned to him, and fully expected him to be angry with me for poking my nose into his business. But he wasn’t. He slid down the door frame, wailing like a man whose bones had been ripped out of him. Tears streamed down his anguish-twisted face. “And I killed her.”
She finally knew. And I was on the floor, an absolute mess of a man.
This is why I wanted to tell her on my own time, with my own words, so I could control the flow. But opening that door busted the dam wide open. Seeing that room was always my undoing. It was why it was still there, untouched. It was too painful of a reminder of what I’d done.
I sent my pregnant wife out, alone, into the night because I was too much of a coward to deal with the pain. And I lost them both.
“Is the baby even mine?” My mind flashed back to me sign-shouting at my wife, the last time I’d seen her alive.
“Of course, it’s yours. I swear. It happened months before I got pregnant. If I could take it back, I would. I made a mistake. A horrible, awful mistake. But I want to fix it.”
“Just get the fuck out.” I didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth, and I couldn’t even look at her.
“Tanner, yell, scream, throw things, I don’t care, but don’t shut me out.” Those were the last words that my wife said to me.
Fight or flight, and I always chose flight, because I was too terrified to duke it out when shit got real. My therapists, my family, my friends, even Alex, always told me to not bottle my emotions. I was allowed to be angry. I was allowed to be upset. I was allowed to grieve.
But it never sank in. And because of that, I’d lost everything. And I couldn’t let it ever happen again.
So, when Gia came over and pulled me into her embrace, I fought against all my natural instincts. Everything inside me that screamed to flee, I ignored. Every part of me that wanted to push her away, I rejected.
I wept in her arms and allowed her to be privy to my misery.
We lay there for what felt like forever, until every ounce of energy was drained from my body.
Finally, I willed myself to sit up and look her in the face. Those eyes of hers said so much, a swirl of emotions and questions that were running through her head. Confusion, hurt, sadness, pain.
“What do you mean by you killed her?” she finally asked me. “Finish the story, Tanner. How did Alex die?” Her brow knitted and her brown eyes turned darker, waiting for my answer. “I know she wasn’t in the car.”