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Present
Lo
We drive to my house separately, and I’m not prepared for what awaits me. My best friend and my husband stand in my driveway having a screaming match. What the hell? I park and hop out of my vehicle, curious as to why the hell she’s here. It’s not like she knows Jase and I blew up last night, that we imploded and might never come back to each other.
She couldn’t.
“You can’t fucking do this,” Ellie screams at him, her face as red as his.
I don’t know what the fuck they are talking about. Where are my kids? Are they okay? Did she bring Jazzy home?
They stop their back and forth when they see me and Tobe walking in their direction. I watch them warily. I’m completely baffled at their angry stances. Did I miss something?
“What’s up, guys?” I ask, my voice small and confused. I’m still raw. I left last night, and we haven’t spoken yet. None of us have.
My anxiety spikes, goosebumps cover me. My hairs stand on end, a wave of uncertainty filling me. I can’t tell if it’s because he just told me he was cheating or because Ellie never yells like this, not since Francis’ death, not since she blamed Tobe. Or maybe it’s from the fact that I caught her spouting hatred, and there aren’t many reasons for it. Jase hasn’t done anything wrong to her, and I haven’t even told her what happened last night.
“Just telling this asshole how I feel about his cheating,” she growls, gritting her teeth.
But I never told her, only of my suspicions.
Jason visibly pales, his face ashen and full of so many things I can’t decipher. Fear. Shock. Denial. His fists are clenched at his side, and when his eyes close tightly, my stomach drops. Nausea hits me like a wave at high tide. Holy fucking shit. No. I refuse to accept this. I fucking refuse.
“I’ve got to go,” I whimper before turning to Tobe. “Take me home.”
“You are home!” Jase hollers from behind me, but I ignore him, looking directly at his brother without turning back.
Toby must have the same conclusions as me because he’s shaking. I can feel it when he grabs me. His entire frame trembles. He’s soft, though, his hands encasing my wrists, trying to comfort me. Then, they’re rubbing my shoulders as we walk to his car.
“Lo!” Ellie exclaims.
I hear her feet running after me. If she touches me, I’ll fucking lose it. It’s her. It’s always been her. Even in high school, it was her. At the first party, all the times she talked about her feelings about him, and when Francis died...
She had been obsessed. Why didn’t I see this sooner? How did I not realize this?
“Peaches,” Jase calls out after me, his voice quaking.
How dare he use that name, how fucking dare he! But I turn my head back, hearing the pain in his voice and wanting to fix it. Only, he chose this, and his mistakes and choices ruined us. He chose her. I feel my heart physically break with each step away from my home. I didn’t even get to see my kids.
They did this.
The feeling of someone holding my nose closed while smothering me with a pillow takes ahold of me. I’m suffocating. I grasp the air, my hands flinging. Tobe realizes this quickly, but I can hardly see him. I hear him yelling though.
“Get the fuck away. I swear to god, Jason, if you touch her,” he growls.
I’m blinking rapidly, trying to breathe.
“Inhale, Peaches.” a voice says. “That’s good, baby. Now, exhale.”
My lungs struggle to deflate, to do what the voice says.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe.”
My lungs burn, filling with oxygen, and I’m being hauled away in the next moment.
“I’ve got to keep walking, Sparkle. Because if I stop, I’m going to beat the shit out of Jase and tell Ellie to go fuck herself.”
I can’t speak. I’m numb. A simple nod in his direction is all I offer.
There’s no hiding the devastation left in the driveway. Worse, my heart stayed behind, too.
We arrive at his house, but I’m numb. My mind is completely trashed with images of Jase fucking my best friend. That’s what he did. He fucked my best friend. He stuck his dick into her. He shared parts of him, parts he promised to only share with me. He gave her pieces of himself I’ve never shared with anyone else. Because it’s always been him. Even with my doubts, insecurities, and comfort from Toby, Jase was always it for me.
Fuck. Did he use condoms? He had to, right? I did find those condoms, but that doesn’t mean they used them. Those lipstick stains from the past year, those hickeys, the condoms, all the fucking signs. All the time Ellie was gone from nannying, all the time she had me watch Gray so she could run errands... Was she with him? Was she fucking him the entire time? Did they fuck in his office? He never fucked me there. Told me it’s not a place to do that. Did Sally cover for him?
Did he think of me?
The kids?
Did he remember all the promises he made?
Our vows?
Did he even fucking care?
No, the answer is no.
Shit, shit, shit.
My mind won’t stop wandering. My head won’t stop flashing images. My stomach won’t stop churning. Bile won’t stop rising, and my heart won’t stop ripping.
He. Fucked. Ellie.
He cheated on me for an entire year—with my best friend, no less.
I cannot believe him, and her? How could she? I did everything for her. I fucking sacrificed so many times for her happiness! She broke my trust. She touched him, not just his body, but he cares about her. You can tell. You could see it in his expression, and that hurts worse. You can’t hate someone without dancing the line of love. They’re one in the same, you see. Hate and love are two sides to the same bitter coin. He hates her. I hate him. She hates me. She loves him.
Maybe I could forgive the cheating, forgive the sex, but him loving her in any way? How can I forgive that? How can I just let that go?
Don’t shut down. Don’t do this. Your fucking children need you. Don’t you dare do that to them again.
I thought death was the worst experience to be had, but I obviously never accounted the desolation of a marriage. Why didn’t he file those fucking papers? Is that when he cheated? Was that the beginning? Why didn’t he let me go? He had them, signed in hand, ready to fucking submit, so why stay? Why give me this kind of torture—this outcome?
Scars made by people can go many ways. They can slice you through your skin. They can slice you to the bone. They can even sever limbs entirely. But scars of the heart, the untouchable ones, the ones that ache deeper but are invisible, branded, tattooed, those are the ones you feel forever.
And that’s what they’ve done. They’ve scarred my soul. They’ve etched their betrayal and infidelity into my bones. No matter how invisible, I feel their burn.
“Sparkle?” Toby asks, breaking me from my maddening thoughts. “I won’t ask if you’re okay, but I can see you’re going crazy over there. I said your name like ten times.”
Did he? No. I can’t shut down. I must’ve lost myself already.
“Let’s go inside?” he offers.
“I didn’t even get to see Ace or Jazzy,” I whimper.
The tears are finally coming. That’s all I wanted. I didn’t even plan on seeing him. I just wanted to hug my babies and let them know I still love them. Let them know I’m not abandoning them. Let them know I’m stronger than the demons sinking their teeth into my mind. I just need space and time, and I will be there for them during that too.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he reassures.
Toby rarely calls me that, and it just makes me cry more. I’m too raw. How did I get so lucky with a best friend but lose in the husband category?
He hauls me onto his lap, my legs hitting the center console before making it to him. I don’t flinch. The pain should hurt, but I can’t feel it. There’s a disconnection between my body and my mind.
Toby holds me to his chest, cradling me like he’s hurting as much as I am, like he’s in pain seeing me in pain.
“I’ve got you, Lo. I’ve always fucking got you.”
And I believe him.
The latch of the car door unlocking has me jumping.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, almost like I’m a wounded animal. “I’m just going to carry you inside. Don’t need everyone staring at us.”
Toby lives in one of those Stepford-type areas—the richest of the rich in Hollow Ridge. All the houses are the same, and everyone acts the same and look freakishly similar too. Toby doesn’t belong here. It’s creepy. He stands out.
He hauls me into the house, the one I’ve spent the better half of the past year in, the one I stayed in last night, the one that takes as much as it gives.
Chester immediately greets us, barking, jumping, and making laps around us.
“Hey, boy.” Toby laughs, letting me down, petting him, amping him up more.
I just stare at Tobe, at the love in his eyes, of the happiness he shows his dog. If my heart wasn’t aching from the betrayal of Jase and Ellie, it’d be aching with love for this man and his dog.
Tobe’s head tips up. He’s looking directly at me. His eyes smile along with his mouth, and if I didn’t see it myself, I wouldn’t believe it was possible.
“Hey, buddy. Let’s get some food in you.” He jumps up, heading to the pantry.
I stand here, admiring how easily he can brush off pain. I’ve never seen him so angry and upset before. I was almost certain he’d turn around and beat Jase more than he had earlier. I’m glad he didn’t because I would have let him.
After about ten minutes, Toby comes back in with another bottle of Moscato and two glasses. I figured we polished all the bottles last night.
“Sit.” He gestures to his love seat, the same one I spend all my time cuddling and reading books on. The one where I have deep conversations about pain and recovery. Where he brought me back to life and saved my kids from losing their mother for good.
He sets down the glasses, pouring them nearly to the rim.
If this was a year ago, I would have disappeared into myself. I want to. The gut-wrenching truth of their betrayal stabs at me, begging me to.
But I won’t.
Because my unborn child wouldn’t want that.
My mother wouldn’t want that.
My kids don’t deserve it.
And Jase doesn’t get to hold that much power. I can’t let him hurt me, can’t let him ruin my progress. I wanted an in, to know what’s wrong. Well, be careful for what you ask for.
I’m paying the piper now.
“Want to talk about it?” Toby breaks the silence. He hands me my Moscato, nodding at me to drink it.
I do, taking two huge gulps that burn my nose a little.
In answer, I shake my head softly, my palms sweating. Wine. Need to drink more. Instead of saying no, my mouth rebels. “I should.”
“I’ll protect you. I’ll listen. I’ll be whatever you need. Talk to me.”
Taking in a huge breath, I suck in all the insecurities. It’s not because I’m not good enough. It’s not that I’m too fat. Or no longer pretty... right?
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can. You’re so strong, Loren, so fucking strong.”
At his words, I cry. I feel this small wall caving. He always knows how to break my barriers, knows how to force me to feel.
He pulls me close. “I hate when you cry. I hate that he’s done this to you.”
“We. We did this. Me and Jase, both. I failed him, and he failed me.”
“That’s bullshit. A cop-out. You were hurting, and he should’ve been here.”
I want to yell, to scream at the unfairness of his words. That’s not how marriage works. When we’re together, we’re a team, and when half of the team slacks, both suffer. I slacked, and he suffered. He gave up, and I broke.
“I pulled away first,” I try, defending him as much as I can, flinching at the anger in Toby’s eyes at the same time.
Tobe turns to me, taking the wine from my hand and placing it on his coffee table. He pulls me onto his lap, and my thighs surround his.
This should make me run. We’re breaking more rules, disregarding all boundaries when our bodies are this close.
But the comfort it brings—this feeling of being loved—makes me stay.
“Let me take care of you, Lo,” he whispers, his hands rubbing up and down my arms.
Take care of me how? He’s always taking care of me.
When I see his hazel eyes, I know it’s not that kind of taking care. He wants to help my ache and not the one in my heart. He wants to soothe me, to make me forget. But I can’t. I can’t be Jase. Can’t be like him. Can’t choose the easy way out. Whether it’s timing or not, I shut my eyes, absorbing his warmth so I can get off him and book a hotel room. That’s what I’ll do. I can’t hurt him. I inhale the scent of him, his masculine aroma mixed with Moscato and leather.
“W-we can’t, Tobe.”
“Shh,” he hushes, placing a finger over my lips. “I won’t let you go. Let me take care of that ache, Sparkle. I got you.”
My mind goes to Jase and El, goes to their bodies together.
Then, I’m startled by his lips taking mine... and I don’t stop him.
I should push back.
I should tell him no.
I do none of these things.
I’m selfish.
I want love... his love... any love.
And I need, more than anything, to burn the images of them out of my mind.
Tobe’s lips are so soft. I never imagined us to have more than that sloppy kiss. Never expected him to feel right.
Right but wrong.
Good but bad.
Welcome but unwelcome.
He holds my face, cradling it gently. His thumbs press into my cheeks like he’s scared I’ll run, that maybe this isn’t real. Maybe it’s not and this is just a dream.
Sometimes, you’re hit with a curveball, but if you’re used to life never handing you the straightaways, then you absorb the hit regardless of the fear you feel.
Toby’s my curveball, and I’m ready for this collision.
His tongue brushes mine, only the tip, gentle and nervous, requesting access. Even though his mouth is foreign, and I have to physically force myself not to freak out over the difference between him and Jase, I open up. He’s tender, his tongue not invading, but exploring. The sensation is new, like I’ve never been kissed before, like he’s my first, and I’m his too.
A low groan vibrates against my mouth, the sound unfamiliar but not unwelcome. It has me pulling away. Tobe’s eyes are full of emotion. They’re wild with hunger. A shiver slices through me, making me squirm.
The hand that held my face travels down my throat and lands above my breasts, then between them, right where my heart rapidly beats.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Can he feel that? The pitter-patter and racing thrums of my heart? That he’s awoken the organ that I’ve allowed to wither away and die? The beat of a dead visage, coming back from a nocturnal sleep just to experience this moment?
“Sparkle,” he practically hums. “You feel that?”
I nod shakily, unsure of what my voice would sound like if I spoke. Whether he means the pounding from lust, fear, and uncertainty, or pure shock and adrenalin is unclear, but I keep nodding anyway.
“That’s you realizing your worth. That’s you fighting for yourself.”
I stare at him, my brows scrunched in confusion.
“You didn’t shut down, baby. I’m so goddamn proud of you.” His hand slips a little, resting on my cleavage. “Now this heart beats not just to keep you alive but because you want it to.”
What does that even mean?