Tamsen hands me another glass of wine and a new box of tissues then sits down on her couch beside me.

“You need to call him.”

“I’ve tried all day.” I sniffle. “He’s not answering, not responding. And I don’t know what I would say. ‘Hope you’re feeling better and oh, by the way, I know you fucked my stepmom and killed her friend?’” I release another sob and more tears.

“I know in my heart, Trick didn’t kill her.” Tamsen rests her hand on my leg.

“How? How can you know that? He was strung out on drugs and he owns a gun!” I sigh. “I’m sorry.” I press a tissue to my swollen eyes. “I’m not trying to take it out on you. I’m just so …”

“Angry?”

“Hurt. I’m dying inside, and I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, but he did. Now what? He doesn’t remember and I either have to tell him, forcing him to deal with actions he can’t remember, or I have to pretend I don’t know.” I suck in a shaky breath. “He’ll know. He’ll see it … feel it. He’ll just … know.”

A sad smile pulls at her lips. “I love you, Darby. Because even now when you could be throwing things, screaming at him on the phone, or drawing up divorce papers … your concern is for him. No matter what you decide, know that you are my friend and always will be … with or without Trick in your life. Okay?”

Tamsen’s words bring on a new round of sobs as we hug. In this moment I feel like she’s physically holding my emotions together … holding all the broken pieces of me together. In this moment I don’t know if Trick brought me to Tamsen or if she brought me to Trick when she and Grady saved him that night.

After a long bath, Tamsen grins, sitting cross-legged on the guest room bed, holding up a hair brush. “How was your bath?”

“Nice.” I force my lips to pull up fractionally.

“Sit. I’m going to brush your hair. It’s soothing … at least I think so.”

It’s bittersweet that this girl friend moment is happening fifteen years later than it should be and under such heartbreaking circumstances.

“Me too. Thank you.” I sit in front of her and let her treat me like the little sister she never had and vice versa. My phone rings on the dresser and we both freeze. I slowly get up and grab it from the dresser then sit back down. Tamsen rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s him.”

She tightens her grip. “You can do this.”

I swipe my finger across the screen and hold it to my ear. “Hey.” I swallow back my entire heart that’s beating in my throat.

“Hey.”

One word from the voice that cuts me to my very soul is all it takes. Tears … they chase each other down my face, desperate to escape the monster of pain that resides inside me. I hold my breath and Tamsen hugs my back. I hear her sniffle and I know the pain she feels for two people she loves like family is ripping her apart as well, and her agony compounds my own.

“Sorry I didn’t call you back earlier. I … wasn’t doing so well.”

I press my palm to my chest, lip quivering, eyes closed. “It’s … okay.”

“Darby, what’s wrong?”

I can’t do it. The pain is too great. My phone falls to the bed and my body slumps as the raw emotions annihilate my heart.

“Shh … I’ve got you.” Tamsen holds my shaking body. She grabs my phone. “You need to come, now.” Tossing the phone aside, she lies next to me, soothing me … helping me reach for my next breath. Tamsen is an angel from God, and tonight she’s saving me.

My eyes feel like they’re about to explode; I can only open them partway. My head? It already has. Even the slightest movement brings on the percussion. I groan, sitting up. Tamsen’s gone but there’s a note.

At work. Ibuprofen on the bed stand. Call me if you need anything. He took the red eye, but I made him stay on the couch until you’re ready. FYI – your mom’s necklace—it triggered his memory, ALL of it. Love you, -T

I suck in a breath, it feels like my last. He wasn’t sick; he was in shock. The shards of my heart stir in my chest, making new cuts … new pain. It’s love, hate, fear, anger. I slide my legs to the edge of the bed and freeze.

Trick.

He’s on the floor, curled up on his side, head resting against his arm—sleeping. The love I have for this man is enough to last a thousand lifetimes, but the pain is like a drop of blood on the whitest sheet. No matter how big the sheet, that little red dot will always stand out, and if it’s your blood, it can never be ignored.

His eyes open with a slow blink. An eternity passes before he looks up at me and when he does, it’s a wilted flower begging for water, a dying love, and pain … so much pain.

I stiffen even more as he sits up on his knees. His hands move to my legs.

“Don’t … please.”

His eyes fall to the floor in defeat and he nods.

I bite my lips together and pray for strength to hold it together, one broken piece at a time. Yesterday’s revelations haunt me, visions of my husband with Rachel. Life is so cruel.

“I forgive you,” I whisper, and he looks up slowly while I blink away the pain. “But … it’s not enough.”

His eyes gloss over with tears.

“How did you recognize my mom’s necklace?”

His brow furrows. “Does it matter? You don’t need any more pain. I can’t … I won’t do this to you.”

“Did Rachel wear it? Did my father give it to her?”

He nods.

I look up and shake my head. “What did she say the LC stood for?”

“Love Cal.”

I laugh. Unbelievable.

“Lucy Carmichael. It stood for Lucy Carmichael!” I yell with more anger than I intend to.

Trick flinches. “I’m sorry … I didn’t know.” Each word is barely a whisper.

“Why was she wearing it?” I sob.

“To remind me that she belonged to another man.”

My husband fucked my stepmom while she wore my dead mother’s necklace. This can’t be happening.

“She said you killed that woman.”

His jaw twitches. “It was a drug overdose, period.”

“But you gave her the drugs.”

“No,” he says through gritted teeth while standing. He paces the room, running his hands through his hair. “Rachel gave her the drugs. Rachel gave me the drugs. I wasn’t a fucking drug addict until I met her!”

“You could have said no.”

“She blackmailed me!”

I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”

He stops, resting his fists on his hips. “I didn’t show up at her office to fuck her. I showed up to rob her. There, I’ve said it. She saw me in the park and told me when I was done doodling like a child that she had a real job waiting for me. It pissed me off so I went to even the score. When I got to her office I waited for the right opportunity. She stepped out for a few moments and that’s when I took her wallet from her purse. I didn’t want the money, I just wanted to piss her off in return. But when I sat back down with her wallet in my coat pocket that’s when I noticed it.”

He shakes his head. “It was stupid of me not to have looked in the first place. She had a security camera in her office—proof that I took her wallet. Before I could make another move she came back in with a security guard and confronted me about what I did. I tossed the wallet on her desk and she dismissed the guard. She said she wouldn’t have me arrested if I agreed to work for her, so I did.”

His gaze meets mine. “She took photos of me, but they were never used. She paid me in gifts that kept getting more elaborate. I went to fancy parties with her and that’s when I started doing drugs—drugs she provided. Eventually the drugs and alcohol led to—” He closes his eyes.

I swallow hard, a few tears rolling down my cheeks. “Sex, they led to sex.”

He nods. Somehow him actually admitting it cuts deeper than I imagined.

“Every time I tried to get out she threatened to turn me in and assured me when the cops showed up they’d find enough drugs at my place—the place she purchased in my name—to put me in prison for a long time.”

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long did you fuck them?”

He flinches like a slap across the cheek.

“Two years.”

“Did you love them?”

“I love you.”

I close my eyes. “Did. You. Love. THEM?”

“I hated them … I hated myself—still do. Time will never erase my past; prison would have been better. Because I’m in hell right now, and I don’t think I’ll ever escape.”

How fitting, I feel like I’m drowning and will never surface.

“I’m going back to Chicago—alone.”

“Darby—” He moves toward the bed.

I scoot back, shaking my head. “Don’t.”

“I’m dying—” His voice cracks and a single tear bleeds down his cheek. “Why can’t I touch you?” The pain in his face sucks a little more air out of my lungs … out of my life.

“Because right now all I see is you with them. Threesomes! I see your hands on them, your lips on them. I see you fucking them!” I shake my head and wipe my tears. “You could have fucked a million women that wouldn’t have mattered, but instead you fucked the one that does … the one I can’t forget. I-I just … can’t … forget.”

I know how much my words must hurt, and as much pain as I’m feeling, my intention isn’t to hurt him.

“You’ll never know how sorry I am.” He turns, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Except to use the bathroom, I don’t leave the bedroom until Tamsen gets home.

“Hey.” She opens the door, holding up a sack. “I brought you dinner. Trick messaged me earlier and said you hadn’t eaten yet today.”

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

She shuts the door and pulls the sandwich out of the bag, setting it on the nightstand. “But you still need to eat.”

All I can do is stare at the ceiling.

“Trick said you’re going home tomorrow.”

“I am. You have work and I…” I shrug “…I need time.”

Tamsen nods. “He loves you.”

“I know.”

“But it’s not enough?”

I shake my head. “I wish it were. I know he didn’t lie to me. I know he had reservations about us because of his past. I tried to think of every scenario and if it would be a deal breaker, but this … this I could never have imagined.”

“Is this a deal breaker?”

I blink away the tears. “I don’t know. I love him; I will always love him. It’s not about forgiveness; I forgave him the moment the words fell from Rachel’s lips. That was a choice, but forgetting is not a choice. So the question is can I accept it and … I. Just. Don’t. Know.”

“Whatever decision you make will be the right one.” She kisses the top of my head. “Now, I’ve got to go shove some food down your husb—Trick.” She gives me a sad smile. “He said he’s not hungry either.”

“Tamsen,” I call as she opens the door. “It’s completely inadequate, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”