Chapter 15
Brenda looked up and frowned as I settled myself at a table under a sun umbrella and fired up the laptop.
It was clear from her confused expression that she recognized me, she just couldn’t remember from where. I didn’t have any plans on helping her out with that—the less she connected me with Sebastian, the happier I’d be. In fact, the smart thing to do would be to pack up and go home for that very reason.
Even though I’d only just arrived, I should leave—maybe if I could just pretend that I’d forgotten something, I could go without drawing too much attention.
Quietly, I closed the laptop’s lid and slipped it into my shoulder bag even though the poor machine was still grumbling through its start-up routine. I stood up to go but I was ten damn seconds too late. Sebastian was walking toward me in his country club uniform, a huge smile on his face. You would have thought he hadn’t seen me in days, not just a few minutes. I felt exactly the same.
I flicked my eyes to Brenda then stared at the floor, but he didn’t seem to be able to read my mind, which, at that precise moment, was extremely inconvenient of him.
“Hi!” he said, happily. Then he frowned. “Are you going somewhere?”
I was like a deer caught in headlights from the juggernaut that was Brenda Wiseman—and I was about to get squashed flat. Her eyes swiveled toward us and, from the look on her face, I was pretty darned certain that she had super-powers, probably X-ray vision, the way she was ogling his body.
“Hey, Seb!” she sang. “Oh, I love your uniform! It’s, like, so cute!”
Her hysterical cheerleader whine made me want to hold her head in the pool’s deep end and watch until her pedicured feet kicked out a tarantella.
Sebastian’s expression morphed from happy to irritated and then to slightly worried. He was right to be concerned—his acting abilities were even worse than mine. The two of us being in the proximity of the preternaturally observant Brenda, was a sure recipe for disaster. Possibly hers, as I might be forced to rip her tongue out of her head and feed it to the nearest tiger shark as bait.
I still thought that my best plan was to exit stage left at a convenient moment, although that meant leaving Sebastian in the clutches of the harpy. Unobtrusively, I sank back down in my seat and retrieved the confused laptop from my bag.
“Um, no,” I said softly, trying not to look too befuddled, “I was just going to get…a coffee.”
For a second Brenda glared at me then her gaze became rather condescending.
“Oh, I thought I recognized you—you were at the picnic on Sunday, Mrs.…?”
“Caroline Wilson,” I supplied politely. “And you are…?”
“Brenda Wiseman,” she said, raising her eyebrows, clearly believing she was unforgettable. How right she was.
Sebastian’s haunted eyes pedaled between us.
“Nice to see you again, Brenda,” I said, matching her for insincerity.
She adjusted her tiny bikini top, her tried and tested method for attracting Sebastian’s attention. This time it failed spectacularly; he was still staring intently at me. God, I hoped somebody tried to drown themselves soon—maybe that would snap him out of it—although it was doubtful.
Brenda’s eyes narrowed—she sensed competition, so now she was going in for the kill. While Sebastian’s gaze was still fixed on me, I saw her fiddle with one of her earrings and slip it into her purse. What was she up to?
I was about to find out.
“Seb?” she whined. “I lost an earring; I think it came off in the deep end. Would you, like, dive down and find it for me?”
Wow, she really was shameless! She’d deployed the poor, helpless female act to get her own way and she was about to make him take his shirt off—all in one short sentence. I would never have thought of that: I had a lot to learn.
Sebastian frowned at her.
“Are you sure you lost it in the deep end?” He stared at her accusingly. “Your hair is dry.”
She flushed. “I’ve been here a while…I was swimming when I noticed it had gone. Please, take a look?”
“Okay,” he said, staring down into the pool.
I saw a look of triumph in her expression which soon changed to lust as Sebastian pulled off his t-shirt and stepped out of his flip-flops.
It was really hard to imagine that they’d dated for ten whole months. Even harder to imagine that she hadn’t ripped off his clothes and stolen his virginity at some point during that period. Had she only become so obviously desperate once he’d broken up with her or had she always been like this? I reminded myself of the reason why they’d broken up in the first place—she’d slept with someone else. Perhaps Sebastian had had a good grasp on his self-control when he was with her—just not with me, I concluded smugly.
Across the pool, I saw two women of Shirley’s age nudge each other and adjust their sunglasses for a better look.
Big tips from horny, older women.
Jealousy was such a new and unaccustomed emotion, that I had to remind myself my homicidal thoughts were something of an overreaction. Except, perhaps, where Brenda was concerned.
I was relieved that the nail marks I’d inflicted on him last night—or very early this morning—had, mostly, faded. Sebastian wasn’t the only one who had to be careful not to get carried away.
With a grace that took my breath away, he dived into the deep end and stayed under for half a minute, searching for the earring that Evil Brenda pretended she’d lost. He came up for air then dove down again. Twice more he swept the bottom of the pool but, of course, found nothing.
Eventually he gave up and pulled himself out of the pool, right next to where Brenda was sitting, the vixen trying to look all helpless and grateful. His swim-trunks clung to his body as the water poured off him, and his skin sparkled in the sun, droplets reflecting light off his chest and arms.
Brenda looked like she’d died and gone to heaven. Although…a thought occurred to me, hadn’t she seen it all before? Hadn’t he ever taken her surfing with him? I’d have to remember to ask him. Then I slapped the idea down—I’d promised myself to quit plaguing him with questions that were only going to piss off both of us.
The two women across the pool were grinning at each other and I swear they gave each other a high five. I could see Sebastian was going to have a long afternoon of being asked to retrieve lost jewelry from the pool. Or maybe, if those cocktails the women drank were alcoholic, he’d end up having to save them both when they threw themselves in the deep end, hoping that he’d give them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last, “I couldn’t find it. It probably got sucked into the filter system. I’ll report it to the manager and he can ask the pool guy to look out for it. But it won’t be until tomorrow morning now.”
Brenda shrugged.
“Whatever. So, did you decide which school you’re going to go to yet? UCSD, right? What classes are you taking?”
“I’m working, Bren,” he said, not very subtly.
She pouted. “It’s not that busy.”
He frowned. “I’m not supposed to chat to members.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said, smiling up at him.
I felt desperately sorry for Sebastian; he was utterly hopeless at trying to blow her off. He really didn’t have a clue. He was far too nice for his own good.
I wondered if he’d appreciate my help—maybe if I attacked her with a pool chair and beat her into putty, she’d be distracted enough to leave him alone. On the other hand, that would definitely draw unwanted attention.
Instead, I tried to focus on the small screen in front of me, but I couldn’t help noticing that Sebastian’s eyes kept flicking nervously in my direction.
Brenda was getting irritated that her wiles weren’t working; and she was bound to notice that he kept looking at me, not her.
At that moment Ches walked over to Sebastian and spoke to him quietly. Whatever he said, Sebastian was hugely and obviously relieved. He picked up his uniform polo-shirt and pulled it over his still-wet body, slipped on his flip-flops and walked off, glancing just once at me and smiling.
But it was enough: Brenda had seen the look.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously and I couldn’t help a nervous swallow. Then I straightened my back and decided that I wasn’t going to roll over and let her walk all over me.
“Where’s he gone?” Brenda snapped at Ches.
“We’ve been told to swap duties,” he lied casually.
I knew for a fact that Sebastian was supposed to be poolside his whole shift.
“They want him in the gym,” continued Ches, sounding utterly convincing. I was glad he was on our side—on Sebastian’s side.
Then he looked at me and grinned, “Hey, there, Mrs. Wilson! How are you?”
“I’m just fine, thank you, Ches,” I said, smiling at him gratefully. “How’s your mom and dad?”
We slipped into our double act as if we’d been practicing it all our lives.
“Good, thanks. Are you writing another article?”
“I thought the staff weren’t supposed to chat to members,” Brenda muttered in a sulky tone.
Ches pretended not to hear her and spoke to me for several minutes before taking up his place in the lifeguard’s chair.
I was totally unprepared for Brenda’s next line of attack.
“So, you’re, like, a writer?” she said, coming and standing next to me, one hand on her hip.
I glanced up and saw Ches’s fleeting look of sympathy.
“Trying to be,” I said politely.
“Aren’t you, like, kind of old to be starting out?”
I was astonished by her rudeness.
“I don’t think it’s ever too late to try something new.”
She sniffed and started reading my notes over my shoulder. I’d had enough.
I closed the laptop and looked her in the eye. “Is there something I can help you with, Barbara?”
“It’s Brenda!”
“Oh, is it?”
“You knew Seb when he was a kid, right?” she said, not the least bit perturbed by my overt hostility.
“Slightly,” I acknowledged.
“So, you’ve known him, like, forever?”
If she said ‘like’ again, I might have to beat her over the head with a book of English grammar. Or I might just do it anyway—the idea was undeniably attractive.
I smiled coolly at her and she looked a little confused. “Oh, sorry, Barb…Brenda. Was that a question?”
She nodded briskly.
“No, not really,” I replied shortly. I wasn’t going to give her any information I didn’t need to.
“You know his parents, right?”
“Slightly,” I repeated, knowing that would aggravate her more than anything.
“Seb and I have been dating since tenth grade,” she lied blandly.
“How nice,” I said, grinding my teeth. “Dear me! Shirley must have been mistaken when she told me you two had broken up.”
She flicked her honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “We were on a break, but he wants to get back with me.”
She spoke with such an air of conviction that I was rather in awe of her. How did she lie so easily and with such confidence? I should take lessons from her—especially as I had another three months of living with David to get through.
The reminder was a sharp one, and I’d had enough of her games.
“How nice for you. Well, it’s been lovely chatting, but if you’ll excuse me, I have deadlines.”
Now she looked mad. It turned out that I was much better at blowing her off than Sebastian was. What’s more, it had been fun.
She huffed angrily, grabbed her towel and headed indoors. I suspected she would be stalking Sebastian in the gym. I looked up at Ches. He shrugged and shook his head helplessly. Nope, he didn’t know what to do about Barbara…um…Brenda either.
I decided to wander in to get that mythical coffee after all. I left my laptop on the table and Ches cheerfully acknowledged that he’d keep an eye on it. Pulling on my t-shirt and shorts I headed for the bar area but before I got there I could hear a woman’s angry voice.
“It’s not appropriate for you to be chatting to your girlfriend while you’re working, Mr. Hunter.”
“She’s not my…”
A middle-aged Hispanic woman in a neat pant-suit was chewing a piece out of Sebastian. My immediate reaction was to rush in and defend him. Instead, I watched silently from the sidelines. Story of my life.
“We have rules here for very good reasons. We don’t want our members injuring themselves when they’re in the gym—that’s why we have staff on hand to instruct them in the correct use of the equipment. If you’re chatting to your girlfriend, Mr. Hunter, that’s when accidents will happen. I take a very dim view of that…a very dim view indeed.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, ma’am, she’s a member and…”
“Well…I’ve made my views clear, Mr. Hunter. And should any other of your friends decide to come and chat, I’m sure you’ll dissuade them from that. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And may I ask why you are working the gym right now and not Mr. Peters?”
Sebastian flushed and dropped his gaze to stare directly over his manager’s shoulder.
“I…I asked to swap, ma’am.”
“I arrange the rosters, Mr. Hunter, not you. Kindly go back to your lifeguarding duties and send Mr. Peters to see me, please.”
“But Ches…”
“Now, Mr. Hunter.”
“Yes, Miss Perez.”
Sebastian turned on his heel and strode back out to the pool area.
Luckily he was unaware that I’d overheard the humiliating little scene. I could cheerfully have smacked Brenda into the middle of next week for causing so much trouble.
I lingered to order a coffee and the young barista offered to carry it out to the pool for me when it was ready. Now Sebastian was back outside, it was the only place I wanted to be.
Happily, Brenda seemed to have disappeared. Which was lucky for her, the way I was feeling.
Sebastian was slumped in the lifeguard’s chair when I emerged into the sunshine from the gloom of the clubhouse, but beamed at me as I resumed my seat under the sun umbrella. I really was going to have to talk to him about playing it cool. I gave him a quick smile and went back to my laptop. Now Brenda had gone, I had a reasonable chance of actually managing to put some words on the page.
It was surprisingly soothing to have Sebastian sitting there while I worked. I wrote steadily for some time, sipping at the thin coffee that had been brought to my table, becoming more and more absorbed in describing life on a military Base, with its odd mixture of discipline and play, rules and separation that marked us out as different from the world beyond the walls. It made me realize how much I’d come to rely on that sense of orderliness, togetherness, of family, even. I’d felt so alien in this world for so long, I hadn’t even noticed my slow absorption into this isolated, alternative way of life. I wondered if I’d miss it once I left. I didn’t think so, but it was all I’d known for 11 years. Now, at last, Sebastian was offering me something different.
I looked at my wristwatch, astonished that it was already after 5 PM. I had to get home—and face David. Twelve more weeks of feeling like this, I didn’t know how I’d manage. And I’d be without the warmth of Sebastian’s body beside me tonight. That thought alone made me feel bereft.
I looked up to see him watching me, a small frown creasing his forehead. I smiled quickly and subtly tapped my watch. The corners of his lips turned down and he nodded fractionally.
With a sigh, I packed up my notebook and laptop, and left him behind.
At 6 PM I heard David’s car pull up. I made sure that his dinner, reheated lasagna and salad, was ready.
As he walked in, I fixed a smile to my face and pulled his steaming plate out of the microwave and placed it on the table next to the salad bowl.
But he didn’t look at the food—he looked right at me, his face stiff and angry, sitting bolt upright at the table.
“Have you got something to tell me, Caroline?”
I’m sure my face was drained of color, because I suddenly felt very faint. I tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Well?”
“I…”
“I saw Dr. Ravel today,” he snarled at me, “who reported to me that you missed your appointment!”
I felt a sudden desire to laugh. Was that all that was bothering him.
“That’s right,” I said, feeling brave now that I was sure it was nothing to do with Sebastian.
“Would you like to explain that?” he hissed.
“I felt no need for an appointment, David. You made it without consulting me. If you had, I would have reminded you that I had a Pap smear six months ago and that there were no problems. And I certainly am not experiencing an early menopause—I’m quite sure of that.”
Silence filled the room and our eyes locked.
“And what the hell is Dr. Ravel doing discussing me—her patient—with you? Hasn’t she heard of HIPPA?”
“If it’s not physical, it must be psychological,” he said, coolly ignoring my comment. “I’ll arrange for you to see the Base psychiatrist and…”
“No, you won’t, David,” I replied, trying to match his sanguine tone, but with little luck. “I am not seeing a shrink; there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Then why are you sleeping in the guest room?” he yelled, all attempt at any control gone. “That is going to stop tonight. I want you back in my bed where you belong!”
“No!” I yelled back. “I fucking well won’t!”
David’s face was comically shocked. “Yes, you will,” he said, with far less force.
I stared back at him and folded my hands across my waist.
“No.”
We glared at each other across the kitchen table.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouted suddenly, making me jump.
Adrenaline and mounting anger sharpened my tone.
“Nothing! There’s nothing wrong with me! I wash your fucking clothes, I iron your fucking pants, I cook, I clean, I…”
“That’s your job! That’s what you’re here to do!”
“I’m NOT a fucking servant!”
“You’re being hysterical, Caroline, I think…”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think, David! I’m tired of you bullying me, putting me down, patronizing me, treating me like some sort of simpleton. I was supposed to be a partner in this relationship—that’s what I signed up for. Not this!”
“You’re acting like a child, Caroline.”
“Then stop fucking treating me like one! I’m thirty fucking years old!”
“And please stop using that vile language.”
“Aaaaaaaagh!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. For a moment he actually looked scared.
Then he stood up abruptly and forcefully shoved the lasagna and salad away from him. The plate slid right across the kitchen table and crashed to the floor, sending a shower of steaming hot sauce and scalding vegetables over my bare feet and legs.
I cried out and jumped back, trying to scrub off the burning food.
“You bastard,” I screamed at him. “You fucking bastard!”
He looked shocked.
“Caroline…I…I didn’t mean for that to…are you hurt?”
I ran to the sink, trying to splash cold water over my burning legs and feet.
“Caroline!”
Tears sprang to my eyes and my voice was shrill.
“Go away, David. Leave me alone.”
Instead, he hovered guiltily while I cleaned myself up in silence. The hot food had left blotchy, red burn marks down my thighs and shins and across the front of my feet. I thought I’d got the hot sauce off quickly enough to prevent any blistering or real damage.
David watched me helplessly. It was clear he hadn’t a clue what to say or do. Just as long as he didn’t try to touch me—if he did, I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions. The great doctor didn’t even offer to get the First Aid kit.
Carefully, I rubbed large dollops of antiseptic cream over my legs and, without a single glance in his direction, I left the room. The pool of lasagna was still spread out over the floor like a crime scene.
I walked upstairs stiffly and lay down on the bed in my room. I wanted to curl into a tight ball but my skin was too tender to stretch like that. Instead I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. David had never ever hurt me before—not physically. I knew it was an accident but the hate I felt for him at that moment raged through me. All the years of being belittled and bullied, all the times he’d made feel stupid and inadequate, it all came boiling up inside.
The fury I’d felt when Brenda had flirted too openly with Sebastian was nothing, an insignificant annoyance, compared to the way I felt now.
I was glad I was having an affair behind his back. I was glad I’d taken a younger man into his bed. I was delighted thinking of the humiliation he’d suffer when he finally knew the truth. I wanted to yell it to his face and watch his whole fucking world fall apart.
Even after I heard the front door slam and his car screech out of the driveway, I continued to imagine the fierce joy I’d feel when I finally told him what a pathetic little man he truly was.
I lay on the bed as the house sank into darkness. Outside I could hear the small sounds of the day’s end, people’s lives continuing down the same, certain paths. I’d been like that once—moving from hour to hour, sleepwalking down a road that had been chosen for me—not awake, not aware.
It was all ashes and dust.
I must have fallen asleep because when my cell phone buzzed with a text message, I jerked awake. I struggled to sit up, wondering why I felt so sore and then the memories came flying back like locusts. The skin on my legs felt raw, or rather, the hot tightness of bad sunburn. I was astonished to find that my face was wet. I didn’t know it was possible to cry in your sleep. It wasn’t from the pain—at least, not the physical pain.
I turned on my side to reach the bedside light. The little alarm clock told me it was after 11 PM; I’d been asleep for nearly four hours.
I expected the text to be from Sebastian and it was—but not the goodnight message I’d anticipated.
* Am outside. Is he there? There’s no car? Can I c u? *
I leapt out of bed and immediately regretted moving so quickly. Even in the weak pool of light from the little lamp, my legs looked horrible. I needed to find something to cover them up. I found an old hippy skirt at the back of the closet. It was dated and faintly ridiculous, but it was the only fabric I could tolerate right now. Best of all, it was floor length.
Moving carefully, I made my way down to the kitchen. I stared in disgust at the vomit-like pool of cold lasagna on the tiled floor. That bastard hadn’t even tried to clear it away. I hesitated, thinking I should clean up before I let Sebastian in—he’d only ask questions which I wanted to avoid. But it was too late; he’d seen my silhouette as soon as I’d walked in the kitchen and I could see his shadow rocking impatiently on the balls of his feet.
His smile vanished as soon as he saw my face. My attempt to fool him for even a second had obviously been in vain.
“Caro, what’s wrong?”
I just shook my head and he pulled me into a tight hug. His jeans pushed against my legs, rubbing my skirt fabric against my burns. I winced and he felt me shudder.
“What’s the matter? Did something happen? Tell me!”
I sighed into his chest.
“David and I had a fight,” I said.
He froze as soon as I’d said the words.
“He knows?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. It was nothing to do with you—just a stupid fight.”
He breathed a sigh of something like relief.
“What was it about then?”
He wasn’t going to let this one go.
“He was pissed because I refused to sleep with him—I mean, sleep in his bed, not … I told him I’d be staying in the guest room.”
“That asshole! Fuck, Caro! I really want to…”
He didn’t finish the sentence but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking.
“Has he…gone out?”
I nodded. “Yes, he’s been gone a while. I’ve no idea when…or if, he’ll be back.”
“Can I come in?”
His voice was hopeful.
“Okay, for a minute.”
He frowned at my unenthusiastic reply. I was so tired and wrung out, I couldn’t handle a jealous and angry Sebastian right now.
He halted in his tracks when he saw the mess on the floor.
“Did he do that?”
I nodded silently and fetched a cloth to start clearing it up.
Without speaking Sebastian took the rag from me. I was too weary to argue even though I wanted to. It was just all wrong to have my lover clear up the mess my husband had made in our kitchen over a fight about the matrimonial bed. My brain was tied in knots just trying to keep all the pieces in the right place. Somehow everything had gotten so mixed up and confused.
Finally, the floor was clean and the remains of David’s dinner had been dumped in the trash can. Sebastian washed his hands and dried them on the back of his pants.
He sat down at the table and put his arm around me. I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest, just holding me. Every now and then I felt his light kisses in my hair.
His kindness was the thing that broke me, and tears began to slide down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry, Caro,” he said softly, his voice aching with sadness. “Don’t cry, baby.”
He repositioned one arm under my knees and gently lifted me up. I whimpered once from the pain, then bit my lip to stifle any more sounds.
Slowly and carefully, he carried me up the stairs and laid me down on my bed, placing his body alongside mine.
We lay together as I sobbed quietly. We didn’t speak.
When my tears finally dried, he kissed me on the cheek.
“Come on, let’s get you undressed.”
His hands rose to my waistband but I pushed them roughly away.
“No, don’t!”
He looked hurt. “I wasn’t going to do anything, Caro. You’re exhausted. You need to get some rest. Come on, let me help you.”
I tried to push him away, but my body felt like I weighed a thousand pounds, and he’d pulled up the hem of my skirt before I could stop him.
I heard his gasp and then he swore.
“What the fuck, Caro? What happened? Did…did he…?”
“It was an accident,” I said tiredly. “He didn’t mean to.”
Sebastian was furious, as I knew he would be. I could see cords of tension on his neck, his eyes were blazing with fury.
“That asshole!”
He bounced off the bed and balled his fists as if he wanted to hit something—or someone. He was trying to rein in his temper, but he wasn’t having much luck with that. Then he saw my face, fresh tears breaking out.
“Shit, I should take you to a doctor!”
I shook my head slowly. “I’m okay. They’re just…mild burns…from the pasta sauce. I’m okay.”
“You should fucking report this! You can’t let him get away with doing this to you!”
“It was an accident,” I repeated quietly. “Please, Sebastian, just drop it.”
“Drop it?!” he shouted. “Look what that sack of shit has done to you! Fuck, Caro!”
I put my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes tight shut, trying to stop the new tears from leaking out. His rant stopped in midstream.
“Oh God, Caro.”
I felt the mattress tremble and he lay back down on the bed and hugged me to him. That was all I needed: his arms around me.
After a long while it was Sebastian who broke the silence.
“What do you want to do?”
His voice was soft, unnamed emotions making his tone raw.
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t stay here anymore, Caro. You know that, right?”
I let my breath out in a long sigh.
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Maybe Mitch and Shirley? They’d help, I know they would.”
I shook my head slowly. “I’m not taking my troubles to their door.” I sighed. “I’m still…in an illegal relationship with a minor—I wouldn’t do that to them.”
He didn’t argue so I knew he’d taken my words seriously.
“What about your mom’s? I know you’re not close, but…”
“No. She practically kicked me out when I was 19,” I said bitterly. “Why do you think I married David so quickly?”
He was silent for a moment but I felt his body tense; he did that every time I so much as mentioned David’s name. Some sort of primal response, I guessed.
“What about friends back east?”
“Same problem,” I whispered. “I’d be involving them in…well, you know.”
He hugged me closer and I could feel his warm breath on my neck.
“There’s a women’s shelter near Park West…I…I heard Mom mention it once. Maybe…”
“I can’t because…” My whispered words shuddered to a halt.
“Because of me.”
His voice was bitter.
“You can’t go to any of the places that would help you…because of me.”
I knew why he thought that, why he would say that, but I couldn’t let him blame himself.
“It’s not your fault, Sebastian,” I said gently, stroking his arm. “You’re the one good thing I’ve got in my life. I wouldn’t change that for anything. Not for anything. I finally feel…alive.”
I heard him gasp and he pulled me closer.
“I feel the same, Caro. You’ve taught me everything I know.”
I blinked in surprise.
“You have. You’ve taught me who I can be, you’ve made me stronger. You make me want to see the magic in the world. I…I didn’t know falling in love could be…like this.”
Was that really how he felt? Is that how he saw me—someone who could make him stronger? How did that happen? I was so weak and cowardly. But, and I felt a small flowering of hope inside me, I had changed, hadn’t I. I was getting stronger—not yet strong, but getting there.
It felt as if he’d been the one to teach me. Perhaps we had learned together.
He held me carefully, making sure his legs didn’t accidentally brush against mine.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said softly. “I want to be with you so badly, but you just end up getting hurt every time I come near you. Why is it so hard for us to be together? It’s so fucking unfair!”
“I know, tesoro.”
He was so hurt and confused and there was so little I could do to help either of us.
I let out a long sigh.
“I think you’d better go now.”
“No!” he gasped. “No way!” He raised his voice. “I’m not leaving you alone with that asshole!”
“I can’t fight with you, too, Sebastian,” I whispered. “I don’t have the strength.”
“No! I didn’t…what if he…I can’t leave you here alone!” he said, desperately.
I turned carefully to look at him.
“This isn’t something you can fix, Sebastian. I’m the one who’s screwed up; I have to fix it. But you’re right about one thing—I can’t stay here.” I took a deep breath. “There are lots of empty rooms around the university now all the students are on vacation. I’ll check out the listings for people wanting roommates. There are places for less than $500 a month. I can manage that.”
I didn’t tell Sebastian I had no idea how I’d afford to eat and put gas in my car at the same time.
“And there’s a Motel 6 up by San Ysidro that’s only $50 a night. That can be my last resort, if necessary.”
Sebastian’s face was grim. “I have nearly $700. That’ll buy another month, food and gas.”
Maybe he could read my mind.
I stroked his cheek. “I can’t take your money.”
“Yes, you can! I want you to, please, Caro. Let me help you. I want to take care of you. This is all my…”
I laid a finger over his lips. I couldn’t bear to hear him so desperate, trying to look after me the way a man looks after a woman.
He kissed my finger and pulled my hand away from his mouth.
“You should go see a lawyer, Caro. Take half of everything that bastard has.”
I shook my head. “No, Sebastian. I won’t be doing that.”
“Why not?” he said, hotly. “You deserve…”
I interrupted him gently.
“I don’t want anything of his. Do you understand? Nothing. But there’s another reason…if I make David fight a divorce, I’m afraid he’ll find out about us. I know him: he’ll keep digging and digging and digging until he finds the reason why I left him after all this time. His ego will demand that there’s a reason other than…other than himself. And then he’ll take me down.”
I could feel the tension and stress in Sebastian’s body—all his muscles were rigid and he was only just holding onto his temper. He pulled me tighter against his chest, his hands trembling, but he couldn’t speak. He buried his face against my neck and we held each other as the night slipped past.
I stroked his back and gradually his body began to relax, his breathing becoming deep and even.
I couldn’t sleep but I was glad that Sebastian did. I listened to the soft sounds of breath on his lips, and watched his face relaxed and peaceful. I felt such crushing guilt when I looked at him, so beautiful; so sweet and young. All he’d done was to love me and now he was in danger of being swept away in the floodwaters of my failed marriage.
The right thing for me to do was to leave quietly and head for New York. That way David and I could conduct our divorce with some dignity—I hoped—and my relationship with Sebastian would stay hidden. Once he was 18, and with me already on the east coast, he’d be able to escape. People would talk and maybe even guess the truth, but there would be no proof—and we’d be safe.
Two things held me back from making that decision: firstly, I knew that Sebastian would never agree and it would mean another fight; and secondly, I felt responsible for his fragile soul and I didn’t want to leave him unprotected.
I knew Shirley and Mitch would look after him as much as they could—they already thought of him as a second son—but they didn’t have the legal power to support him against the wishes of Donald and Estelle. Not unless they were prepared to swear to the historic and ongoing abuse. And, despite everything, Donald was one of them—part of the military family. That worked two ways. The military looked after their own, but the other mantra that was drilled into them had a darker side: ‘snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches’.
I couldn’t see Mitch wanting to go down that road—it would be the end of his career. If Sebastian had been younger, then maybe, but not now he was so near his eighteenth birthday, legal adulthood and emancipation.
So that was the reasoning behind my plan—spend the next couple of days finding a room; then work up the courage to tell David I was leaving him.
I knew my husband well enough to feel confident that his guilt over my accident would keep him silent for the few days I needed.
At least, that’s what I hoped.