“It’s supposed to be an exercise to help me when I feel anxious.”
He flips to the page I wrote today and stabs it with his finger. “Why won’t Josie speak to you, and what do I have to do with it?”
I scrub my hands over my face, unsure whether I should tell him the truth.
Maybe it’s better to get it all out.
Maybe that’s the only way we can move forward.
Maybe the secrets and the lies have been burying me, little by little, and the only way for me to dig myself out of this pit is by confronting this head-on.
Confronting him.
“Josie found out. She found out that you ...”
Come on, Callie.
“You ...”
Paul’s eyebrows dip down. “That I what?”
Be courageous.
Courageous Callie.
I swallow around the lump in my throat and look into Paul’s eyes. “She found out that you’ve been hitting me.”
Paul tosses the journal onto the mattress and stalks toward me. My muscles lock, cringing in anticipation.
“She found out? Or you told her?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t tell her!”
“Then how did she find out, Callie?”
“Because ... Cole ... he came by the house and saw the bruise on my cheek.”
His face reddens as a crazed look takes over his eyes. “Cole.”
I hold my breath, waiting in the terrifying silence that hangs between us.
Paul inches closer, backing me toward the wall.
“I didn’t mean for her to find out, I swear. But it’s over now. It’s behind us. You don’t have to hit me anymore. We can move past this together.”
Paul’s fist cocks back, and I squeeze my eyes shut, but it hurtles into the wall instead, inches from my head.
Maverick barks wildly beside us.
Paul’s knuckles are bloody as he pulls his hand out of the hole he put in the Sheetrock. “You think I want to hit you, Callie? You think I enjoy this? You think I like being this way?”
Tears stream down my cheeks as I shake my head. “No! I know you don’t. That’s why I forgive you, why I still love you. I know we can make this work, but you have to stop hurting me.” I whimper. “You can’t keep hurting me, Paul.”
“It’s too late for that now!” he yells. His fingers wrap around my neck, gripping so hard that I can’t breathe. “Everyone knows the truth! How are we supposed to move on and pretend like none of this ever happened?”
I claw at his hand, his wrist, his arm, smacking him as I sputter, unable to suck in a breath. My eyes plead with him to let me go, to let me breathe.
Why is he doing this?
Why is he hurting me?
Why am I letting him?
His grip around my neck tightens, and he lifts me until my toes dangle above the floor. Then he tosses me onto the bed.
Run!
Coughing and clutching my neck, I gulp down deep breaths as I scramble to my feet and run into the hallway.
Maverick bolts downstairs ahead of me.
“Where are you going?” Paul’s voice thunders.
I stop at the top of the stairs and turn around to face him, mustering as much nerve as I possibly can. My throat is raw, my voice hoarse. It hurts to speak.
But I know I must.
My voice is all I have.
“I’m leaving, Paul. You’re hurting me, and you’re not thinking straight. We can talk after you’ve calmed down.”
I don’t wait for him to respond. I spin around and race down the stairs. I swipe my purse off the entryway table and twist the lock on the front door, my fingers fumbling as they quiver.
Paul reaches me as soon as I swing open the door, grasping my wrist and yanking me backwards. “You are not leaving this house!”
The wild desperation in his eyes terrifies me. I pull back, attempting to shake myself free from his grip. “Yes, I am. Please, Paul. Let me go!”
His open palm smacks against my cheek, and then he grips my jaw so hard it feels as if it’ll crack under the pressure. “You are mine; do you understand me? You are not leaving this house!”
Adrenaline surges through my veins. “I won’t go back in that house with you like this.”
He grits his teeth and winds up to hit me again, but I jam my knee between his legs with all my might.
“Son of a bitch!” Paul hunches forward and releases my arm.
The grass crunches under my feet as I flee across the lawn.
Go!
Go!
Go!
I don’t check the street before crossing, and the blare of a horn jolts my body as I freeze like a deer in the headlights. Brakes screech as the rusted bumper of a broken-down truck stops mere inches away from me.
The driver’s door flings open. “Callie! Are you okay?”
I blink rapidly, my heart pulsing in my throat as Cole rushes toward me.
“I almost hit you. What are you doing?” His eyes rove over me. “Why are you in your bathrobe?”
My lips open to speak, but a gasp comes out instead. Paul’s fist crashes into the side of Cole’s face, blindsiding him.
My hands fly up to my mouth. “Paul, no!”
Cole staggers backward, and Paul lands another punch. He’s about to strike again, but Cole lunges toward him, ramming his shoulder into his midsection and flipping him onto his back in the middle of the road.
Cole straddles Paul and hammers his fists into his face, over and over. Left, right, left, right. Blood explodes with every punch he lands, and all I can do is shriek.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Josie rushes into the street.
“Paul ... Cole ...” I can’t get the words out to explain what’s going on, or why it’s happening.
Dan jumps in and attempts to pull Cole off of Paul, whose arms now lie limp at his sides on the ground.
“Enough!” Dan catches Cole by the crook of his elbow and stops his next punch. “Enough, brother.”
Cole’s chest heaves as he stands. Blood trickles down his cheek from the cut just under his eye. His knuckles are raw, and blood covers his white T-shirt.
But it’s nothing compared to Paul.
I kneel beside my husband, hovering over him, cradling his mangled face in my hands. “Come on, Paul. We have to get you inside.”
He moans, barely able to open his eyes.
I glance up at Dan. “Do you think he needs a hospital?”
“You should let him rot in the street.” Cole gets back into his idling truck and peels out in the opposite direction.
Dan bends down and throws Paul’s arm around his neck. “I’ll get him into the house. Josie, take Callie inside.”
I shake my head. “I want to help.”
Dan’s eyes meet mine. “You’re the one who needs help, Callie. Go. I’ve got him.”
Josie wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Come on.”
I watch as Dan helps Paul to his feet and walks him back toward the house.
My house.
And now, it’s no longer a home.
A soft knock on the door draws my attention away from the window.
“Come in.”
Josie sticks her head inside the guest bedroom. “Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not.” I turn my head to gaze back out the window overlooking her backyard. “It’s your house.”
Josie sighs and lowers herself onto the corner of the mattress, the down comforter puffing up around her. “It’s yours for as long as you need it to be.”
“I don’t deserve your hospitality.”
“Hey.” Josie places her hand on my shoulder. “Look at me, Cal.”
I shift on the bed and set my watery eyes on my best friend. “I’m so sorry, Josie. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I didn’t call you after our fight. I just ... I’m so lost and scared. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Josie wraps her arms around me and pulls me into an embrace. “
You have nothing to be sorry about. Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean we aren’t friends.”
Quiet sobs rack my body, wave after wave of emotion consuming me, and Josie holds me while it all floods out.
“I don’t know how I got here. Things weren’t supposed to go this way.”
“I know,” Josie whispers. “Life doesn’t always go along with the plans we make for ourselves.”
“I don’t know that I’d blame life.” I sniffle and edge back to look into Josie’s eyes. “I made these choices. I was in the driver’s seat. I did this.”
Josie’s head tilts. “I have to ask … how long has this been going on?”
I look down at my hands in my lap. “In college, he’d get mad and punch a hole through the wall or throw his phone across the room.” I shrug. “I chalked it up to him being a typical guy with a temper. Guess I should’ve seen this coming.”
Josie squeezes my hand. “There’s a big difference between hitting a wall and hitting a person.”
I nod. “We started fighting a lot after we realized that we couldn’t have a child. Sometime around the third miscarriage. There was so much tension between us, and I was depressed.” I shrug. “He’d grab my arm or shove me, and that escalated into hitting. It comes out when he drinks, but tonight was the first time he put his hands on me while he was sober. I just kept hoping that he’d turn back into the person he used to be when I fell in love with him. Like somehow, I’d be able to control it. Maybe if I tried harder, if I didn’t make him angry, if I did what he said ...” I offer a pathetic shrug.
“This is Paul’s issue.” She grips my shoulders and dips her head, leaning in. “There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it. You didn’t cause this.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”
“Of course. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I don’t want to involve your kids in this or cause any issues for you guys.”
She shakes her head vehemently. “You are family, Callie. You will stay here for as long as you need to. There’s no timeframe.”
Tears spring into my eyes again as panic tightens in my chest. “What am I going to do, Josie? Where do I go from here?”
“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Or tomorrow, for that matter. We’ll take it day by day. Together.”
I know I’m lucky to have a friend like Josie. I know many people go through this alone. Still, it feels like I am alone. The idea of navigating a divorce, finding a new place to live, figuring out how I’ll earn an income ... it’s all making my head spin.
Maverick.
California king bed.
Walk-in closet.
Dream kitchen.
Yard with a pool.
Mercedes.
But the things that once calmed me no longer belong to me.
I just lost everything.
Sixteen
Cole
“Cole! Oh my God! Cole!”
I flung off the covers and bolted out of bed as fast as my disoriented body would move. “Penny, what’s wrong?”
Penny’s agonizing cry amplified as I skidded to a stop in the nursery doorway. She was curled up in a ball on the floor beside the crib.
Dread pooled in my stomach, filling me up with every step I took. “Penny.” My voice was a hoarse whisper. “What’s wrong?”
My body jerks awake, and my eyes flutter open, darting around the darkened pool house.
Swallowing hard, I stretch my T-shirt up to dab the mixture of sweat and tears from my face. My head drops as I lean my elbows onto my knees, sucking in a few deep breaths until my heart rate slows.
Will these nightmares ever end?
I head to the fridge and chug a bottle of water before popping off the top of a beer. My knuckles are still throbbing from beating the piss out of Paul earlier. I open and close my fist a few times, stretching my fingers. Hand might be broken. That’ll be a pain in the ass at work tomorrow.
Fucking worth it, though.
My stomach contracts, followed by a low rumble. I skipped dinner at Josie’s, wanting to give Callie some space. I’ve been wondering how she’s doing. Not sure if I should check up on her or if she’d even want to see me.
The way she looked when she ran out in front of my truck, her eyes wide with terror ... I can’t get that look out of my head. No one should have to go through something like this. No one should live in fear of their spouse.
Definitely not Callie.
I swipe an ice pack from the freezer and wrap it around my hand as I head out into the backyard. Hopefully, Josie has leftovers. But when I make my way across the lawn, blond hair catches my eye.
Callie is sitting at the edge of the pool in an oversized T-shirt with her bare legs dangling into the water. Her hair falls in messy, matted waves around her shoulders. She’s so damn beautiful, even with tears brimming from her puffy and red-rimmed eyes.
But it’s the purple marks around her delicate, pale neck that have my insides twisting.
The bastard choked her?
She lifts those penetrating green eyes of hers as I approach. “What are you doing up?”
I arch a brow. “I could ask you the same question.”
She drops her gaze to my hand. “Are you okay?”
This woman.
I huff out a laugh. “You’re seriously asking me if I’m okay?”
She hikes a shoulder and shifts her attention to the still water. “It’s easier to focus on someone else.”
I lift my bruised hand. “Even easier to take it out on them.”
The corner of her mouth twitches, but she bites her bottom lip to stop the smile from fully blooming.
Makes me want to try for another.
“You hungry?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t really feel anything right now.”
“It’s like that in the beginning.”
She considers me a moment. “Did you want your divorce?”
I heave a sigh and scrub my hand over my jaw. “Yes and no.”
She gives me a small smile. “Do you ever actually answer a question?”
“Depends on the question.”
She laughs softly, and warmth pools in my chest. “Well, why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll keep asking questions until you give me a straight answer?”
“Mind if I heat up some food first? Was on my way to raid Josie’s fridge.”
Her chin drops to her chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Of course. Go ahead. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
I kneel down and tuck my finger under her chin, tilting her head until she’s looking back at me. “Nothing you do could ever be a bother to me. You hear me?”
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, and then she nods.
I drag myself away from her and make us each a plate in Josie’s kitchen before going back outside. Then, I place the dishes between us and lower myself onto the ground.
“If there’s one thing I learned while being married, it’s that you never believe a woman when she says she isn’t hungry.”
Callie smiles. “Sounds like you learned that the hard way.”
I shove a forkful of potatoes into my mouth. “Yup. Lost most of my fries that night.”
“Ouch.” She pushes the peas around her plate. “How long were you married?”
“A little over four years.”
“Why’d you get divorced?”
I take my time chewing, contemplating the best way to state my answer. “She cheated on me.”
A gasp leaves her lips. “Oh, Cole. That’s awful.”
I nod, shoveling more food into my mouth. “Definitely came as a surprise.”
“How did you find out?”
“Came home from work, and there they were.”
Her hand clamps over her mouth. Then, her eyes narrow, and she lowers her hand. “What a bitch!”
The steak I’m in the midst of swallowing almost gets lodged in my throat, and I sput
ter as I clutch my chest. My eyes squeeze shut as I throw my head back, and a deep bellow rips out of me.
Callie covers her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even know her.”
That makes me laugh even harder, and I slap my palm against my thigh, unable to speak or catch my breath. I can’t remember the last time I laughed, let alone a laugh this hard, but I can’t help myself. Kindhearted, sweet, reserved Callie just called my ex-wife a bitch.
Finally, I wipe the corners of my eyes. “Oh, man. That was amazing.”
“And super inappropriate. I should keep my opinions to myself.”
“No, Callie. You most definitely should not keep your opinions to yourself.” I turn my head to face her, sobering as the smile fades from my face. “Is that what you’ve been told?”
She shrugs and looks away. “I guess my opinions never really mattered.”
“Just because they didn’t matter to one person doesn’t mean they don’t matter to anyone else.”
Silence falls between us.
I push my plate aside. “When I caught my ex cheating on me, her father wanted to keep it a secret. Cover it up. He didn’t want anyone in his circle to find out because of how it would make his family look.” I laugh and look up at the sky. “I told him I’d keep the divorce quiet and that I didn’t want to start a war. I just wanted to be done. Done with the job I hated. Done with our life together. But he told me that he didn’t want us to get divorced. That it was in the best interest of his company to keep everything under wraps and looking copacetic.”
Callie’s eyebrows draw together. “He expected you to stay married to the woman who was having an affair behind your back?”
I nod. “He’s a rich and powerful man. All he cares about is how he’s perceived in the public eye.”
Recognition flashes in her eyes. “That’s why you blew up at me the first day we met.”
I blow out a stream of air through my lips. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You didn’t deserve that. Not at all.”
“It’s okay. Now I understand why.”
“Doesn’t give me the right to explode on an innocent person.”
She lifts her fork and takes a bite of her steak. “So, what did you say when he told you that?”
What's Left of Me Page 12
