Fleeting Moments(27)

“No, you didn’t have a choice, and it was an awful thing to happen, but you did have a choice on how you behaved after it.”

“I lost my baby, saw something horrific, and was traumatized—how would you have me behave?” I snap.

She crosses her arms. “We accepted all of that, but the mention of this man who we all know wasn’t there . . . you chose to push that and in doing so, push your husband away.”

“That’s none of your business,” I growl.

“Enough.”

I turn and see Gerard standing at the base of the stairs, staring at me. “Heather, can you please give Lucy and I a moment?”

Heather glares at me, then nods and informs him, “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

She disappears out the front door and I focus back on Gerard. “Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey. Listen, can we sit and discuss all of this?” He’s acting emotionless.

I guess that’s how he has to be. I nod.

We both move into the living area and sit on the sofa. Neither of us says much for a while, but eventually, Gerard speaks. “How are you?”

“As well as I can be.”

“You don’t look well.”

“Our marriage ended. I’m hardly doing cartwheels.”

“You think I wanted to just walk away? Jesus, Lucy. You’re my wife, but I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s not fair on either of us.”

“I respect that, but I was suffering,” I say, and my lip quivers. “And instead of having my back, you tried to tell me I was crazy.”

“You were talking about a person that doesn’t exist. I couldn’t just sit back and let that go on. I don’t know what you wanted me to do?”

“He’s real, Gerard. I don’t have to prove that to you, because I know what is and what isn’t. That’s why I’m here—because I have to tell you something.”

He looks to me like he feels sorry for me.

“He visited me last night at my hotel.”

His mouth tightens.

“And . . . I kissed him. Not just then, but a few days before, too. I’m sorry. I thought you had the right to know.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and I feel awful. I know we’re separated, but we’re still married and I shouldn’t have done it, even if I wanted to.

“Gerard,” I say after a few minutes.

He’s staring straight ahead, his face blank. Then, abruptly, he stands.

“Gerard!” I exclaim. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to be honest.”

He spins and pins me with a glare. “You’ve completely lost it, Lucy. I can’t stand around and watch it anymore. I can’t sit here and watch you actually act like you’re having a relationship with this man.”

I feel as if I’ve been sucker-punched in the gut. He’s not angry at the idea I kissed another man—he’s angry because he believes I’m still making it up.

“He’s working on a project that’s dangerous and that’s why nobody will tell me where he is, but he is real, Gerard. I’m not lying.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” He laughs bitterly. “Honestly, Lucy.”

“Stop it,” I plead, anger bubbling in my chest. “Stop treating me like I’m broken.”

“You are broken. He’s not real—how many times do you have to be told that? I looked him up; I spoke to people; he doesn’t exist. I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time, but you need to get help.”

I stare at him and realize he’s just never going to believe me. Unless I thrust Heath in his face, he’ll never know that he’s real and I can never do that because Heath has gone back into hiding. I’m only making myself look crazier, and I’m tired of trying to convince him. The fact of the matter is even if I was crazy and imagining it, he should have my back. He should be helping me.

But we are each choosing to walk away.

“Get your things and leave my house,” I say, my voice icy.

He blinks at me.

“I’ll have a lawyer draw up the divorce papers. If we have to sell the place, we can. Take what’s yours; the rest will be done through our respected attorneys. Don’t contact me. Don’t call me. I’m done.”

“Lucy—”

“No,” I cut him off. “Crazy or not, you’re supposed to be my husband and in this moment, you’ve just proved to me you’re not willing to support me. I deserve more than that. I was the one who suffered, not you. It shouldn’t matter if Heath is real or if he isn’t—you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“You’re leaving me no choice,” he tries.

“Get your things and get the hell out of our house,” I say calmly—too calmly. “I’ll be back this afternoon. I expect everything of yours, including you, to be gone.”

Then I walk to the front door and disappear out of it before he has the chance to say another word.

With every step I take towards my car, my heart breaks a little more. My marriage is over.

Where the hell do I go from here?

***

It’s been three long weeks since Heath left my hotel room and I ended my marriage for good. I haven’t spoken to Gerard since, except through lawyers. It’s a clean split, because we have no children. He said I can keep the house, so long as he can keep all his money, savings, and things. I agreed. He can do what he wants. We’re just finalizing it all and making sure everything is as it should be. Then it’ll be over.