Never Let You Go by Chevy Stevens
For Carla, who never gives up
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The towns of Lions Lake and Dogwood Bay are fictional. All other locations are real.
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
LINDSEY
NOVEMBER 2005
I didn’t have long. He was waiting out by the pool—and he’d be counting every minute. I splashed cold water on my face, let the rivulets run down my neck and onto my shirt. I stared into the mirror. Tried to remember how to arrange my lips so I didn’t look so scared, softened the muscles around my eyes, rubbed at the smeared mascara. It didn’t matter how many ways I told him I hadn’t been flirting with that man, I might as well have been shouting into the ocean.
The concrete floor of the bathroom was covered with sand and bits of paper that stuck to my flip-flops. Beside me a little girl struggled with her tap. I reached over and turned it on for her, then moved to the side, avoiding the curious look from her mother as she exited a stall.
They walked out hand in hand, the little girl chatting about Santa—would he find them at the resort? Christmas was a month away. I thought of Sophie with a sharp ache in my chest. Each day she added something new to her list. I had one thing on my wish list, just one.
This vacation was supposed to be an early Christmas gift from Andrew, but that was an excuse. He knew he’d gone too far last time. I came up with reasons we couldn’t go to Mexico, but he’d overridden every one and booked a room at the resort where we stayed on our honeymoon. Our suite was even bigger this time, the view panoramic. As though white sand and sparkling turquoise water could make up for everything.
I had been careful to wear the pink one-piece when we went down to the beach that morning, layered with my tunic cover-up, the one with the high neckline and hem almost to my knees. Then I put on my straw hat and large sunglasses. As we left the room, he smiled his approval, drew me close for a kiss. I tensed, but I couldn’t smell any alcohol on his breath or taste it on his lips. I wanted to pull away, but he had to end the kiss first.
We set up on the beach under one of the grass umbrellas for the next couple of hours as Sophie played in the sand. Andrew’s hand held mine across our chairs, his thumb stroking lazy circles. A woman walked past and I caught her giving Andrew an admiring look. He was handsome in his white shorts, his stomach muscles clearly defined, his skin bronzed after only a few days in the sun, but none of this had any effect on me anymore. I was careful not to look around, but I imagined how we must seem to others. Just another happy couple with their child.
I pretended to doze, but I was watching Sophie behind my glasses. She was building an elaborate sand castle with turrets and a moat, and using a stick to draw designs in the side, where she carefully placed shells. She’d be seven in January, was already leaving the little girl behind, her limbs thinning out, her pale blond hair darkening to rich honey like her father’s.
She picked up her pail and walked back to us. “I’m hungry, Mommy.”
We flagged down the waiter, who’d been bringing Andrew Coronas all morning. “Una cerveza, por favor,” Andrew would say, while I sipped on a lime margarita, and tried to ignore the growing knot in my stomach. We put in our order, chicken salad for me, burger and fries for them. Our waiter was handsome, with black hair and eyes, white teeth that flashed in quick smiles, and a cheeky expression. I avoided looking at him, but then I made the mistake. When I passed him my empty glass, his fingers lingered a moment against mine. It was an accident. He’d been distracted by some noise behind us, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. Our hands had touched.
The waiter set down a fresh margarita in front of me and walked away. Andrew was wearing sunglasses, but I could still see his angry expression, the pinched look around his mouth, and my thoughts careened and slid around, trying to find purchase. I had to distract him.
I motioned to the beach, the palm trees. “The scenery is gorgeous.”
“Yes, you looked like you were appreciating it.”
“It’s so relaxing.” I molded my face into a pleasant smile. As if I didn’t know what he was getting at. As if we hadn’t been down this road so many times before.
Sophie, perched on the end of my beach chair with her towel wrapped around her waist, was watching our faces, her green eyes worried. She twirled a strand of wet hair around her finger. Ever since she was a baby, she’d twirl her hair when she was tired or anxious.
“Why don’t you go collect more shells, sweetie?” I said. “They look beautiful on the turrets. I’ll wave when lunch gets here.” She got up, grabbed her blow-up dolphin, and walked back to the beach but looked over her shoulder at me a couple of times. I kept smiling.
“You must think I’m stupid,” Andrew said when she was out of earshot.
“Of course not.”
He focused back on his book, turning each page with a jerk. My breath was fast and tight in my throat. I took a sip of my drink, but the lime was no longer refreshing, the acid curling in my stomach. I rubbed at my breastbone, but it didn’t ease the pressure.
Our meals arrived and the waiter asked if he could get us anything else, but Andrew wasn’t speaking to him and I was forced to answer for both of us while Andrew stared at me. I could feel his rage from across the chairs, hear the rant he was rehearsing.