IN OTHER NEWS

March 4th

Lizzy hands me a wine glass, then flops down beside me on the couch. Smiling, she lifts her glass to me. “Here’s to an eight o’clock bedtime and some girl time.”

Feeling more at ease than I have in over a week, I connect my glass with hers, then take a good, long sip. Things with Eric have been strained since Cara’s appearance at the studio, but it isn’t what happened with her that’s caused me to be distant; it’s knowing he’s seen through my cracks. He knows I’m hiding something, and it’s only a matter of time before that secret becomes an issue between us.

“So, how are things going with Brenden?”

Lizzy’s face lights up as her lips spread into a huge smile, and my heart swells.

“Things are great,” she gushes. “He’s taking me out on another date tomorrow night. It’s a surprise.” She tries to look annoyed, but her true feelings are reflected in her twinkling eyes. “How are things with you and Eric?”

My stomach flips and I moan, then gulp down the rest of the wine in my glass.

“That doesn’t seem good.” She grabs the bottle of wine off the coffee table and fills my glass back up. “What’s going on?”

“Cara came by the studio last week.”

“Cara? As in the ex-wife Cara?” Her eyebrows bunch as she places the bottle back down.

“That would be the one.”

“What the hell did she want? Haven’t they been divorced for a while now?”

“Yep, for years. I don’t think they were married more than six months. Who knows what she wanted. It was weird. She looks a lot like me. Like, we could be sisters.”

“Gross.” She scrunches her features.

“Pretty much. And she hates me. Said some nasty shit to me.”

“What? Eric allowed that?”

“No, he dragged her butt out of there, but not before I slapped her.”

Lizzy laughs, nearly choking on her wine, and struggles to catch her breath. “That’s fantastic! You go, girl.”

“No, it wasn’t exactly my finest moment.” I shake my head, then take another sip of wine, trying to hide the smirk on my face.

“Whatever. I think it’s awesome you stood up for yourself,” Lizzy assures me, squeezing my shoulder. “Now, I’m going to go make us some popcorn to help soak up the second bottle of wine I’m about to open. I’ll be right back. See if you can find us a movie to watch while I’m gone.”

Handing me the remote, she gets up, then scurries to the kitchen, and I laugh as I turn on the television. It’s on the nightly news, so I quickly change the channel, then flip it right back when my brain fully registers what they were talking about. My eyes blink in disbelief as I stare at the screen, everything else around me becoming fuzzy.

“Police suspect the murder of thirty-four-year-old Jim Engels was personal. The victim may have known his attacker well, since there was no evidence of a break-in.”

Every part of me feels numb. I’d think some part of me would feel relief or even joy knowing I’ll never face the man who raped me again, but there’s nothing—not even sorrow for his wife who found his bloody body in their home, or his crying family members swearing everyone loved Jim. Any emotions I had tied to him were severed so completely, I can’t seem to reconnect with them, and knowing I’ve become that unfeeling is almost as scary as the thought of finally facing everything.

“Julia, are you okay?” Lizzy asks as she walks back into the room. I try to nod, but I’m not sure I’m successful. Nothing feels real.

Realizing what has my attention, her focus shifts to the television as she takes her seat back on the couch, placing the bowl of popcorn and new bottle of wine down. A crunching sound seeps into my dazed state, and my eyes move to Lizzy who’s eating a handful of popcorn as she watches the report, horror painted across her features.

Sucking in a breath, she shakes her head, then turns to meet my gaze. “That’s awful. His name sounds familiar. Did you know him?” As I go to shake my head in flat out denial, she snaps, gasping as her eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! That’s that creepy guy who hit on me at the hockey game.”

My head spins as her words sink in, feeling as if all the wind was knocked out of me. So many times over the years, I’ve worried and wondered if Jim had hurt anyone else the way he did me. Guilt weighed heavily on me, knowing I was allowing him the opportunity to do it again to someone else by not speaking up about what had happened. Hearing how he was murdered, I’m almost certain some poor girl he’d hurt had snapped and killed him. But I’d never once considered the possibility he could’ve hurt someone I love—until this moment.

“That’s awful. I shouldn’t talk about the dead that way. I’m sorry, did you know him?”

As I stare into Lizzy’s concerned eyes, the dam holding everything back breaks, releasing all the pain and sadness in a giant wave, tears falling without mercy and my body trembling as it rolls through me.

“Julia? Hey, what’s going on?” She rubs her hands up and down my arms.

Attempting to swallow the lump in my throat, I hiccup a sob. Lizzy’s eyes go wide, having never seen me cry like this before. Pulling me into her arms, she holds me tightly and pats me in a soothing manner.

It takes me several minutes to pull myself together enough to slow my tears, but she continues embracing me until I begin to catch my breath.

Leaning back so I’m at arm’s length again, she peers into my wet eyes. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I exhale. “I think it’s time I told you something.”

The next morning, I awake on Lizzy’s couch, my head spinning and body weak, but I feel a thousand times lighter. Telling her what happened was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but it felt like I was finally taking the first step toward healing.

We sat up for most of the night talking. Well…I’d done most of the talking while Lizzy listened. I didn’t think it was possible for me to have more love and admiration for her, but last night proved that theory wrong. Hearing my story couldn’t have been easy for her, but she was so strong. It was as if she knew her sorrow would only cause me more guilt.

After neatly folding the blanket I’d slept with and writing a quick note to leave for Lizzy, I grab the business card she’d given me and tiptoe out the front door. Before we went to bed, I’d asked her for her therapist’s information. I’ve allowed what happened to define my life for too long, and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to change that—even if that means talking to a stranger.

I’m dying for coffee and my own bed, and it made the drive back to my apartment feel endless. As I drag my tired body out of the car, I think of Eric. Talking with Lizzy also helped me realize I should tell him what happened. If I ever hope to move on, I must learn to own that moment of my life.

By the time I make it to the third floor of my apartment building, I decide to forgo the coffee and head straight for the bed. My steps come to halt as my door comes into view and I see someone sitting outside it. Though the adrenaline now coursing through my veins has me feeling much more awake, my movements resume much slower—cautious—as I approach him.

The man is hunched over, his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them as his head rests on his knees. It’s the pretentious wool trench coat and blonde hair that sparks recognition in me.

“Chris?” Lifting his head, he regards me with heavy eyes laced with dark circles. “What are you doing here?” He looks like a different man as he comes to his feet, humbled and vulnerable, but I know it’s only a deception.

“I wanted to see you.” He reaches out to caress my cheek, and my stomach churns.

Shying away from his touch, I sidestep him to get to my door and unlock it before turning to face him. “Have you been here all night?”

He shrugs, “I came all this way…”

Sighing, I roll my eyes, then open the door and motion for him to come inside. Inviting him in is going against my better judgement, but I’m too drained to fight with him, and I can’t handle the guilt from turning him away.

Once we’re inside, Christopher’s eyes gaze unapprovingly around the small apartment while I start some coffee.

“I know I have no right to ask, but were you with him?” He slips off his coat before taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter.

My eyes narrow as shake my head. “Him?”

“Eric,” he clips. “Please don’t deny you’re seeing him. I already know.”

My mouth hangs open as I stare at him in disbelief. I want to scream, yell, and cuss at him, but I don’t have it in me. “You know what, I don’t even want to know how you found that out…or where I live, for that matter. I had a long, grueling night, and I’m not going to fight with you. So, if that’s what you came for, you should go now.”

He jumps off his stool and rushes over to me, wiping away the tear I hadn’t even realized I shed.

“What’s wrong, baby? Did that fucker do something to you?”

“What? No!” I screech, shoving him away. “I wasn’t even with Eric last night. I was with Lizzy.”

He winces slightly at Eric’s name, and the notion gnaws at me. Ignoring it, I busy myself with pouring us both a cup of coffee. He’s always suspected my feelings for Eric ran deeper than I let on, and I’d lied to him about it every time he asked—a fact that had to be evident to him now.

“Here.” He smiles as he takes the cup I’m offering, making me regret being nice to him in the first place. “Drink that so you won’t fall asleep at the wheel, then go.”

Nodding his head in agreement, he gestures toward the living room. “Will you sit with me, please?”

“Fine.”

After walking the short distance over to my couch, my exhausted body practically melts into the plush cushions as I stretch out across them, ensuring Chris doesn’t sit next to me.

Lowering into the small arm chair instead, he eyes me thoughtfully over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip. His throat makes the annoying gurgling sound as he swallows, and my skin crawls. Add that to the list of things I don’t miss about him.

“Do you want to talk about last night and what you’re upset about?”

“Nope,” I grit out, cutting my eyes at him. “Why don’t you tell me why the hell you’re here?”

He scoots to the edge of the chair and places his coffee down on the table. “I’m here because I love you.” Reaching out, he takes my free hand, and I fight the urge to throw the hot contents of my drink in his face.

“We’ve talked about this,” I sigh, eyeing our interlocked hands before pulling away. “It’s over, Chris. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Is it because of him? I know I screwed up, but you loved another man when you married me and I’m willing to look past that. I want you back and I’m willing to wipe the slate clean. Why are you so unwilling to try? Did you ever care about me at all?”

Shame settles over me like a suffocating blanket as he glares at me expectantly.

“You’re right. I’m not completely innocent. I’ve wronged you too. We should talk, but I really need to get some sleep right now. Can we finish this conversation later?”

His eyebrows shoot up as the corners of his lips curve. “Dinner tonight?”

He’s manipulating the situation, but I’d agree to about anything to get him out of here right now.

“Fine,” I relent, standing. I hurry to my door and open it before fixing my impatient glare on him. He gets up from the chair and lifts his hands in surrender before swaggering over to his coat.

“Message received. I’m leaving.” He takes his time slinking on his coat, looking more like his cocky, arrogant self than he did when I found him on my doorstep.

Our dinner plans probably have him thinking he’s won a battle and gotten a step closer to winning me back, which will make explaining my real reasoning for marrying him that much harder.

When he approaches me, I step back to widen the opening and hold my breath as he passes. Just when I think I’m in the clear, he pivots to face me and leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. Bile volcanos in my stomach as the smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils, but I grit my teeth and keep my mouth shut.

“You get some rest, baby,” he coos, smirking. “I’ll be back at seven tonight to pick you up.”

He turns to walk away, and I slam my door, a shiver traveling through my body as I flip the deadbolt into place.

What the hell did I just agree to?