Everything I Left Unsaid(87)

“I waited a few days and then ran.”

He turned, his jaw clenched so hard I worried he was making gravel out of his teeth.

“What about divorce?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s your land, Annie!”

“What’s the good of it if I’m dead?” I cried.

“I have lawyers, Annie. Good ones. Ones that can keep you safe and get you free and make sure he crawls away with nothing. Goes to jail and never comes out.”

“I don’t have money for that, Dylan.”

He stared at me, his eyes so sad. “Do you think I wouldn’t give you that money? Do you think I could let you just walk away after you’ve told me this?”

I blinked. “Yes,” I said.

“What kind of man do you think I am?”

I shook my head and turned in the chair, toward the bedroom as if to go grab more of my things. But I didn’t have anything. Nothing. Not even three thousand dollars of stolen money and a box of hair dye.

“I think you should take me home.”

“Listen to me, Annie,” he said, stepping close, but not too close as if the boundaries between us had been rearranged. “Do you really want to go back to that shitty trailer park and hide for the rest of your life?”

I wished I could say I wasn’t going to do that. But I had no other plan. I was…hell, I was just like Ben, hiding and waiting for something better to come along.

“Let me help you,” he said.

“How?”

“We can talk to the lawyers today, Annie. And…I want you to stay in my house in Charleston. It’s safer, Annie. It’s so much safer.”

“No.” I shook my head, denying him, denying myself, because I should have done that a long time ago. The first time I picked up the phone. Every single time afterward. At the very least when Margaret had put me in the blue room, I should have stayed there. So much would be different if I hadn’t been so curious and selfish. If I’d left Layla out of it and just stayed Annie McKay.

“Baby, listen. You got this far, on your own and with nothing. There’s no shame in taking help now.”

“I don’t want you to get any more mixed up in this. I feel so bad for lying to you.”

“Don’t, Annie. Don’t feel bad. Just take my help.”

He kept talking, something about restraining orders, and to my great shame, my horrified disbelief, I wanted to nod and say thank you and yes, please, help me. Take care of these things for me, because I don’t understand them and I’m scared. And I feel so damn small in the face of all I need to do.

It was exactly, exactly how I felt when Mom died and Hoyt walked into the office, looked at the computer, and told me he knew how to do payroll. And he could help.

I stood up from the chair so fast it screeched over the hardwood floor. I wished I could say no to all of his help. That I had the resources to do this on my own, but I didn’t. But just because I needed help didn’t mean that I needed to pull him in any deeper. I had to have a fence around his help. For my sake.

For his. I could not rely on him for any more than those things that I could not do without.

“I wish I could say I don’t need your help…but I do. Clearly, I don’t even know where to start. And your lawyers would be a big help. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, Dylan,” I snapped. “I’m not without means. I have money. I’m not as rich as you, but I can pay you back.”

He watched me, solemn and serious, and nodded. “All right. Why don’t you go lie down for a while,” he said. “And I’ll set up a conference call.”

Oh, what an incredible comfort that would be! To go lie down on that bed, curl up in those sheets that smelled like Dylan and let him make a few phone calls.

But it was comfort I did not deserve, and could not take. Not if I had any intention of being able to look myself in the mirror with any kind of pride.

I had to go home.

I took a deep breath and began the painful process of removing all but what was necessary of Dylan Daniels from my life. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “For lying.”

“I understand why you did.”

“You…seem so calm.” I thought that if I’d found out that everything I believed about a person was a lie and that I’d been sucked into something as filthy as adultery, I wouldn’t be quite so forgiving.

“Baby, I’m f*cking furious. I’m…crazy pissed, and if I ever have the pleasure of getting my hands on this Hoyt *, I will end him. But I’m not mad at you. You were protecting yourself. And that I understand.”

“Thank you,” I said. “For…all of this. For…” calling me. For letting me call you. For keeping me safe. For the pleasure you showed me how to give to myself and the even greater pleasure you gave to me. For making me tell you this secret. For…for helping me now, when I feel so alone. “For everything.”

I sobbed again and pressed my hands to my face. It was over. This was goodbye and I couldn’t believe how sad I was. How grief had carved a hole in my stomach. I wanted to walk away from him with my head held high and perhaps a lying smile on my face, but I couldn’t even manage that.

“Shhhh,” he said, pulling me into his chest. I soaked him in as best I could. His scent. His touch. Everything. I memorized as much as I could for the Dylan Daniels–free days ahead of me. All of them. “Shhhh. Why don’t you go lie down for a while,” he said. “You got about twenty more hours on that birthday wish.”