Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Blythe

I decided the best approach was to treat it as though I was ripping off a Band-Aid. Just spit it out and get it over with.

“Elliott was having an affair.”

Tristan had been in the process of pouring himself a cup of coffee and jerked in shock at my announcement, sloshing the piping hot liquid over the lip of the mug and onto his hand.

“Shit!” He set the mug down with a thunk and shook the scalding liquid off his hand, a string of colorful curses streaming past his lips as I wet a rag at the sink.

“Christ, B. Warn a guy, why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly as I took his hand and placed the cold, damp cloth on his red skin. “I didn’t think you’d have that big a reaction. You okay?”

He took the rag from me and wrapped it around his fist. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse. And you didn’t think I’d have a big reaction to the fact my sister’s husband—the father of my nieces and nephew—was screwing around on her?”

I heaved out a sigh, my shoulders dipping. It felt like all I was doing lately was sighing and slumping my shoulders in defeat. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to screw up my posture permanently. I moved to the barstool Ainsley had vacated and collapsed onto it, bracing my elbows on the counter and scrubbing at my face with my hands.

“B?” Tristan asked, concern laced through his tone.

I looked up just as he rounded the island to take the stool beside mine. He held his cup of coffee in one hand and slid another cup in front of me, doctored up just the way I liked it based on the rich toffee color of the liquid.

“You already know he wasn’t alone in the car the night of the crash.”

Tristan nodded his head. It had been a tragedy that had taken two lives. My husband’s and the life of the woman in the passenger seat beside him.

“He told me he was going out of town for a conference, so I’d assumed she was a colleague from the university. Another professor in his department or something.”

He drank from his cup, his eyes riveted to the side of my face as I stared into my own, twirling it around on the counter. “I’m guessing she didn’t work with him?”

I gave my head a shake. “I found out during the wake.” I could still remember the confusion on Bryan’s face, the head of Elliott’s department, when I’d mentioned the conference. How he shook his head, his eyes full of pity as he reached out to take my hand and tell me I must have been confused, there was no conference, and Elliott had put in for PTO the week he’d been out of town. I still remembered the condescending pat he’d given my hand, like I was just a bereaved widow whose imagination was running away from her before moving on to offer his condolences to Elliott’s mother and father.

I’d walked around in a daze after that, my mind spinning out of control. I barely remembered anything that happened after that, running on autopilot as I tried to wrap my mind around what I heard. I was such a mess that it had taken two days for what Bryan said to fully sink in.

If he hadn’t been at a literary conference, why had he been out of town? If the woman in the car with him wasn’t a work colleague, who the hell was she?

“Once I was of sound enough mind to piece together the questions I needed to be asking, I went to Elliott’s best friend. As soon as I asked if he knew why Elliott had been out of town, he got cagey.”

Tristan’s brows dipped together, his focus scrutinizing.

“He told me he didn’t know, but I could tell he was lying. When I asked him about the woman, he said I just needed to leave it in the past. That digging things up wouldn’t make me feel any better.”

“Chickenshit,” Tristan muttered.

I took a sip of my coffee. “That was basically my thought. I spent the next two months trying to get answers from Elliott’s friends and family. Two months where everyone lied to my face or told me to let it go.” I reached up to rub at the space between my brows, trying to ward off the headache I could feel building. That was only the second time I’d relayed the story, and already I was drained. Emotionally and physically. “I was grieving my husband, and at the same time, I’d never felt more alone. I felt like I was losing my mind, Tris. My husband had been lying to me, and not a single soul was willing to tell me the truth.” I sniffled, blinking to fight back the burn of tears threatening to form. Those months in Indiana after Elliott’s death had been the most isolating, heart-wrenching time in my life.

“I didn’t have anyone,” I admitted on a whisper. “The people I thought were my friends were more concerned about preserving a dead man’s memory than giving me the answers I needed. I’d always thought of his parents as my second parents, but during those months it became clear I’d been so wrong.” I looked at my brother, his face growing blurry as my eyes watered. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to have every single person in your life turn their back on you at the same time you discovered the person you loved—that you’d built a life with—had betrayed you?” As soon as the last word fell free, I lost the battle with my tears. “That’s why I moved back here. I couldn’t stay there. I was so alone, Tristan. And everywhere I turned, there were memories of Elliott.”

“Christ, B.” He leaned forward, his long arms circling around me and pulling, forcing me and the stool closer so he could wrap me in a tight embrace. “I’m so damn sorry.” I sniffled again, sinking deeper into his embrace and accepting the comfort he was offering. For the first time in a really long time, I was starting to feel like I wasn’t completely alone. “I fuckin’ hate that you were dealing with that by yourself. I wish I could have been there for you.”

I gave him a squeeze. “You’re helping now. You’ve been helping since I moved back.”

We separated and Tristan raked a hand through his hair in frustration as he lifted his mug for another drink. “How did you finally find out?”

I gripped my own cup, hoping the warmth of the ceramic would seep through my palms and warm me from the inside. “I was packing up his office and found some pictures he’d stuffed in the back of his desk drawer.”

I’d barely managed to make it to the bathroom in time to lose the very limited contents of my stomach after seeing those pictures, and once I’d gotten ahold of myself, I’d taken them into the kitchen and set them on fire, dropping them into the sink and watching the edges burn as the images of the couple in them distorted and burned up.

“That motherfucker,” Tristan hissed. “That stupid son of a bitch. I want to bring him back to life just so I can kill him all over again.”

That burn returned to my eyes at the conviction in my brother’s voice. Leaning to the side, I rested my head against his shoulder, grateful that he cared so damn much.

“I guess this is how Alpha Omega came into play? You asked them to dig into their relationship?”

I nodded, not missing the disappointment in his tone at the thought that I went to someone other than him to help me.

“Does Mom know?” he asked after several seconds of silence.

I shook my head, unable to find the words.

“Dad?” he asked, meaning Trick.

I let out another shake.

“Christ, B. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell any of us ? We could have helped you. Or at the very least, been there for you.”

I sat up straight, that shame coming back with a vengeance. “I didn’t tell anybody, Tris. I was humiliated.”

His head whipped around, his gaze fierce. “ What ?”

“I was embarrassed.” The tears started falling faster, making tracks down my cheeks and falling onto the counter in tiny little splashes. “I swore to myself that I would never ever fall for a man like our biological father, and look what I did.” I threw my hands up in the air. “I married a cheater and a liar, and I was completely blind to it. I couldn’t ask you or Dad to help because I couldn’t stand the thought of telling you all of this. My whole marriage was a lie. I’m a giant failure.”

“Oh, Blythe.” His eyes grew soft and sad as he twisted all the way around on the stool to face me full on. “B, you aren’t a failure. Elliott was the failure. He failed to live up to his vows. He failed to be the husband you deserved. He failed to be the kind of man who deserves you. But don’t get things twisted. He’s nothing like the piece of shit who spawned us. Elliott was piece of shit, but our bio dad was a goddamn psychopath. You didn’t marry him. You married a flawed human being.”

I wiped at my cheeks and let out a shuttered breath. “I’m just so mad ,” I admitted quietly, my voice vibrating with all the built-up pain and anger I’d been holding on to for months. “My insides feel like a soda that’s been shaken up and is about to explode, but I have nowhere to point all these feelings. I want to scream at him... but he’s gone, and it’s not fair.”

“Then scream.”

I looked at my brother with a frown. “What?”

“You want to scream, then scream. You can’t do it at him, but there’s no reason you have to keep it all inside. You want to rage and hit something, do it. I’ve got a heavy bag hangin’ in the garage you can wail on as long as you want. Hell, I’ll give you a baseball bat and one of the piece-of-shit fax machines from the station and let you go all Office Space on it. You want to cry or cuss, do it. Just stop holding it in, B. It’s eating away at you, and I hate that it’s making my fierce, vibrant, ball-bustin’ sister fade away.”

I swiped at my nose with the back of my hand and let out a watery laugh. “When did you become a grownup?” I teased.

He shot me a cocky grin and buffed his nails on the shoulder of his shirt. “I have my moments.”

“I see that.” I released a slow, steady breath, feeling some of the weight lift away that had been sitting on my chest for the past several months. “Thank you, Tris.”

His arm came around my shoulders, and he pulled me into his side. “Always, B. Don’t ever forget that. I will always be here for you.”

He couldn’t possibly know how much that meant to me.