The Confession (The Promise Series Book 7)

by Kate Benson

  “I’ve heard that,” I manage quietly, recalling the dozens of times Analise had said the same thing over the course of the last few months.

  Emotion begins to slip over my features, but I push it back. I can’t fall apart right here, right now.

  I can’t do anything but find her.

  “Thank you,” I mumble, hoping the shake in my voice doesn’t disrupt the sincerity of my words.

  We sit for a short moment, the unspoken words swarming between us filling the car with an understanding both of us have needed for far too long. My phone dings, signaling it’s time to make my way inside and I glance out the windshield, swallowing hard at what I know is in front of me.

  “I have to go.”

  “Do you want me to wait here just in case?”

  “No,” I shake my head, reaching for my bag. “I’m in the right place.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Do you see that car being towed up ahead?”

  “Yeah,” he nods. “What about it?”

  “It’s mine,” I reply, pushing the door open quickly and stepping out. “I’m right behind her.”

  Chapter Two

  Analise

  As the first slivers of daylight break over the water, I swipe the back of my hand over my cheeks, swallowing hard as the engine rumbles beneath me, taking me to the interstate.

  I pull in a long breath, the sting that comes with his familiar scent surrounding me in the cab of his Mercedes more than I can bear. The urge to inhale deeply, pulling what I have left of him, of us, into my lungs is second nature.

  Fortunately for my sanity, the sting of his betrayal runs deep.

  The turmoil of simultaneously wanting to drown in him and slip away completely is enough to pull a low sob from my chest. I shake my head clear, blinking back my tears and swallowing the anguish I’m not sure will ever leave again. I’m trying to be strong, using what little pieces are left to be brave, but the problem with heartache, I’ve found, is that like karma, it doesn’t come quietly or slip in from out of nowhere. It finds a way to burrow into your soul, nestling into your deepest, most sacred parts before it consumes you.

  While I can’t be sure if this is part of a karmic payout or just a product of my own shitty luck, one thing I know for certain is I can feel myself slipping.

  Once I finally fall, I’m not sure who or what will remain.

  “Not yet,” I whisper to myself, my voice so low and raspy with emotion, it sounds nothing like my own.

  You have to hold on a little while longer before you can drown.

  It’s so early there are few signs of life on the highway, which soothes me.

  The last thing I want to be surrounded by is the weight of the earth continuing to spin despite my heartache.

  I have to catch my breath before the threat of reality rears its head again.

  I need it to stay still.

  I just need it all to stay still.

  Somehow, I make it to the exit, the drive a blur in the shadow of the past few days, the past few months. As I pull up to the arrivals entrance, pushing my door open and hauling the heavy suitcase from the back seat before stepping over the curb.

  “Ma’am, this area is only for passengers being dropped off,” someone says. “You can’t park here.”

  “Then tow it,” I manage, my pace not slowing as I walk around him, making my way toward the doors that will take me away from this place, away from everything.

  There’s a slight commotion behind me, but I block it out as I slip into the crowded space, sparing a quick glance at the monitors.

  Nothing means anything, but I manage to find what I need, silently whispering my thanks as I step into the short line at booking.

  “Good morning,” the agent smiles when I approach a moment later, her attempt at subtlety as she takes in my appearance failing for a split second. “How can I help you?”

  “I need a ticket for flight 405,” I say low. “I have one carry-on.”

  “I’ll have to see if we have any seats left,” she offers, pulling a nod from me before tapping on the keyboard quickly, chewing on her lip in concentration. “It looks like we have two first-class seats available,” she smiles, proud of herself. “The price is…”

  “I’ll take it,” I cut her off.

  “Oh, okay,” she says, giving me another friendly smile. “How many of you will be traveling?”

  “One,” I say low, swallowing hard over the lump forming in my throat. “I’m alone.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she says low, noticing my watery gaze, but graciously not mentioning it.

  A few questions and keystrokes later, she slides my boarding pass over the counter, her sympathetic smile doing little to ease my pain as I thank her and walk toward security.

  Once I’m on the other side of it, I slowly make my way to the gate without a second glance back.

  If I glance back, I won’t go.

  I have to go.

  Only minutes pass, but each one calls for a deep breath to get me to the next.

  It’s not until we begin to taxi the runway, the sight of palm trees and the gulf in the distance that I let it come.

  I rest my forehead against the window, the dusk fading to sunlight as my fingertips graze the glass.

  I trace my ring finger, my heart heavier as the imprint from the wedding band I’d left on our dresser stabs into my heart.

  I focus on the muted gray concrete below the plane, quickly blurring into nothingness. There’s a slight jolt as the plane rises and I can’t help the gentle sigh that slips from my chest at the escape it promises.

  As the wheels leave the pavement, my eyes flutter shut, and I let the silent sob I’d held captive leave my heavy chest.

  I’ve never been a stranger to heartbreak.

  In fact, no matter how good things were, deep down I always anticipated its return.

  I just never knew my heart could break like this.

  I never imagined it would be at his hands.

  Drake

  “Are you sure there’s nothing left on flight 405?” I ask, tapping my card nervously on the counter between me and the ticketing agent.

  “There was one seat available, but they’ve closed booking, sir,” she explains, making me push out a long, low sigh. “I do have seats available on our next flight out, however. Would you like me to check and -”

  “I really need to be on the 405. Is there anything at all you can do?” I plead, my stomach rolling with nerves as my intuition pushes me forward. “I’ll pay double, triple, whatever. I just have to get on that plane.”

  “I’m very sorry, sir,” she shakes her head, her eyes soft with apology. “There’s really nothing I can do once the system locks like this.”

  “What about a supervisor?” I ask. I know I look psychotic, but I don’t care. I have no idea where Ana is headed, but something deep in the pit of my stomach tells me if I can get on this plane, I’ll find her that much faster. “Is there anyone else who can override it?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll ask,” she offers with a soft smile. She makes a quick call before setting the receiver back into place and replacing her eyes to the monitor in front of her. “While we’re waiting, I’ll pull everything up for the next flight out, just in case.” Her words pull a quick nod from me and she begins quickly tapping the keys in front of her. “Hopefully, we’ll get you on the 405. It was a popular one today,” she smirks. “You’re the second person this morning who was desperate for a seat.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The 405,” she repeats. “About ten minutes before you arrived, another passenger was fairly adamant about getting on that plane,” she says still tapping, her voice low enough I’m sure she’s talking more to herself than me. “Pretty girl, too. I hope she made it through security in time. She seemed to be having a hard d-”

  “What did she look like?” I cut her off, my heart pounding in my chest. “What was her name?”

  “Excuse m
e?” she asks, the tapping coming to an abrupt stop.

  “The girl,” I hold her eyes, my shaking hands reaching into my pocket for my phone, quickly thrusting the screen forward. “Is that her?”

  She hesitates, her eyes moving from the screen and back to mine, compassion staining her features as she speaks again.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not really allowed to-”

  “She’s my wife,” I cut her off once more. “She’s unwell and possibly in danger,” I plead. “I just want to know if she’s okay. Please.”

  She holds my eyes, the way she bites down on the inside of her cheek telling me she’s struggling with her own moral judgement and her need to remain gainfully employed. She’s about to answer when the phone beside her begins to ring loudly, pulling her attention.

  “Yes?” she answers, listening intently before she nods to herself, her chest deflating slightly. “Okay, thank you,” she says into the line and hangs up, facing me. “I’m sorry, sir…”

  “I swear to God I won’t tell anyone you told me,” I bargain low. “Please. Just tell me if she’s alright.”

  “My supervisor is on the floor right now and said there’s nothing we can do about the 405. It’s already taxiing,” she ignores my questions, her eyes pleading with me, too. “However, I can help you get onto another flight,” she continues, taking the card from my hand and tapping quickly before her eyes come back to mine. “Are you a good runner?”

  “What?”

  “You have ten minutes to get to gate A14,” she says, printing my boarding pass. “It lands twenty minutes after the 405. That’s the best I can do.”

  “It’ll have to work,” I answer, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she smiles small, her grip tight enough on the ticket that it pulls my eyes back to hers. “For what it’s worth, I hope you find her,” she says low, releasing her hold. “She looked like she could use a friend.”

  Chapter Three

  Sophie

  The sound of silence as my puffy eyes flutter open is almost as heavy as the weight in my chest.

  I barely slept last night, the regret in my heart waking me when I did manage to drift. As my fingertips trace the cold sheets on the other side of our bed, I know I’m not alone.

  Not in this, anyway.

  “Sophie, you stupid girl,” I whisper as I swallow hard, trying desperately to push away the urge to start my morning by falling apart, bad as I want to.

  I reluctantly pull myself from the sheets, pushing away another wave of self-induced nausea as I listen for any sign of my husband.

  There’s nothing.

  I step out of our bedroom, the low, familiar creak in the hardwood the only sound until I reach the edge of our kitchen counter and see him reaching into the cabinets overhead. He glances over his shoulder, the aqua eyes that had become my undoing long ago filled with the same heartache relentlessly coursing through my veins.

  “Hey,” I manage, my steps slowing as I watch him look away from me, his lips refusing to shift into their usual wide smile.

  “Hey,” he replies, so quietly it resembles a whisper as he moves in front of the counter.

  I keep my eyes on him, willing his to find mine. When they do, they don’t hold what I expect, but it’s still much more than I deserve. There’s something in them that tells me to stop, yet everything inside me tells me to stay the course.

  “Any word yet?”

  “No,” he answers, following up with a subtle shake of his head.

  I bite my lip in nervousness as I move my feet slowly around the counter, coming to a slow stop beside him. My eyes trail over him and I watch his hands move quickly, unable to stifle the sigh that comes with craving the very touch he’s denied me since that text.

  “I can do that,” I offer as I watch him spread peanut butter over one slice of bread before moving to the next. “If you need to…”

  “It’s already done,” he cuts me off, tucking one of the sandwiches into JT’s lunchbox and twisting away from my touch. “There’s coffee if you want some.”

  “Babe, I…”

  “Not now, Sophie,” he cuts me off again, wiping his hands on the damp towel as he finds my eyes again, the exhaustion in his dominant gaze matching mine. “The kids are waking up.”

  I swallow hard as I give him a small nod, watching him move toward the sliding glass door. He follows the dog out and takes a seat in the chair beside the door, pinching the bridge of his nose before releasing a long, low sigh and then gazing out into nothing.

  I’ve rarely seen him so upset.

  The sting of my betrayal coursing through us both traps a sob inside my chest I want nothing more than to let out, but I know I can’t.

  Even if I could, I don’t deserve the release.

  With some effort I shift back into our bedroom, my body on autopilot as my thoughts run rampant. He joins me shortly after, but his silence continues as we prepare for the day ahead neither of us are ready for.

  I imagine he’s doing the same as me, replaying every word, every moment from the second it all came crashing down.

  “Sophie?” he’d started, his voice gravelly.

  “Yeah?”

  I turned to find him standing in the doorway of the bathroom where I’d been wrapping Madison in a towel after her bath, his face distraught.

  We’ve faced the best and worst of times since we found each other. I’m lucky enough to be able to admit there have been few times I’ve seen such despair in the blue eyes that had long ago become to owner of this heart.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked, reaching for his arm, confused when he took a step back. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Am I?”

  “Chase,” I started, searching his features as I positioned Madison onto my hip. “Baby, what’s going on?”

  He stared into me, swallowing hard before his eyes reluctantly left mine, falling onto our daughter as he gave her a weak smile.

  “Daddy loves you, baby girl,” he crooned, showering her smiling, chubby cheeks with kisses before pulling away, his eyes dancing in adoration as he spoke to her despite the sheen in his gaze. “Have sweet dreams, pumpkin.”

  Swallowing hard, he pulled away and brushed her golden tendrils away from her face, lifting her carefully into his strong arms as she reached for him.

  “Is JT getting ready for bed?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “Chase…”

  “I will not have this conversation in front of our children, Sophie,” he cut me off, sending a chill up my spine as his blue eyes finally returned to mine.

  There was something different in them, something I’d never seen from him, something I couldn’t identify then but shortly realization brought crashing back down upon us both.

  In that moment, my husband didn’t trust me.

  “Once we’ve said goodnight and we’re sure they’re sleeping, I want you to come outside.”

  I pulled her door shut fifteen minutes later, the perfection of her breaths instantly a memory as I stepped out onto the porch to find him nervously pacing.

  “Okay, baby,” I started, sliding the door shut behind me and making my way across the deck. “I’m here.”

  “Are they both asleep?” he asks as he glances over his shoulder.

  “Yes,” I nod, watching him release his grip on the edge of the railing, his eyes wild with emotion as he turns to face me. “What’s the mat-?”

  “You tell me,” he demands, cutting me off as he clears the distance between us in three quick strides. “You’ve been acting off for the last month and now this?” he thrusts his phone into my hand, my eyes braving a glance before my heart begins to pound, then plummet. “What the fuck is this shit? Why am I getting messages from Ana, your best friend, my cousins’ wife, accusing you two of having a fucking affair, Sophie?”

  “Chase, it’s not…” I start, flinching when he pulls away from me. “I know this looks fucked up, bu
t it’s not…” I shake my head. “You have to know I would never cheat on you.”

  “I do know that, Sophie,” he allows, raking his palm over his jaw. “But you did something, didn’t you?” he counters, returning his eyes to mine. “Answer me.”

  “I was going to tell-”

  “And you still are,” he insists, cutting me off as his leg sweeps the chair beside me, pulling it closer, his eyes not relenting as he gestures toward the seat. “Sit,” he orders, my limbs numb as they bend to his will. “Now, start talking. What exactly am I never supposed to find out about?”

  “Chase…”

  “Tell me what you’ve done, Sophie,” he cuts me off again as he takes a step closer, his voice breaking with pain despite the way his chest heaves in fury. “Tell me what secret was worth a broken vow.”

  The sound of the bathroom door swinging open jolts me from my thoughts. My eyes shift to find him reluctantly meeting my gaze before he steps passed me, the towel wrapped tightly around his waist as he moves toward the dresser. I’m about to speak, to say what I have no idea, but the sound of Madison waking over her baby monitor cuts me off.

  “I’ll get her,” he says, his deep voice tugging at me deep as he begins pulling a pair of boxer briefs on and quickly reaches for his jeans. “We need to leave soon.”

  “Okay,” I nod, clearing my throat and pulling the first thing I see from the closet, his eyes briefly brushing over me as I turn to face him. “Chase, I’m s-”

  “Not right now,” he tugs a blue t-shirt over his head and steps through our bedroom door, pulling it shut behind him.

  I swallow hard again, the need to breakdown overwhelming as I stare at the door for a moment, his sweet voice filling the room over the monitor beside our bed.

  “Good morning, my perfect girl,” he sings quietly, the sound of him crossing the room for her as she squeals with bliss that comes only from seeing him. “Come here and let Daddy eat that face,” he croons, lifting her from the crib she’s too quickly outgrowing, the sound of him showering her with affection creeping gently through the speaker. “You’re the center of the whole universe,” he whispers. I don’t have to see him to know he’s holding her close, the high pitch of her laughter as he tickles her neck with his scruff. “I love you, my sweet baby.”