Home to You
Home to You
Copyright © 2015 by Taylor Sullivan
Cover Design: Taylor Sullivan
Front cover photo: Anna Omelchenko
Editing: Laurie Boris
All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
WITH SHAKING HANDS, I SLAMMED the car door, and the sound echoed through the parking garage behind me—I cringed. It was almost midnight, and even though I was moving in the morning, I didn’t want pissed off neighbors tonight. I didn’t want them any night, but especially not now. Not when I already dreaded each step more than the scale after Christmas.
I took a deep breath, slung my messenger bag across my chest, and pushed myself forward. It was heavier than normal—heavy because of the burden it carried more so than its weight—but I couldn’t help myself from adjusting the strap over my shoulder anyway.
Kevin’s Dodge Charger sat in our shared spot at the front of the garage. Just like it was every other night that week, but this night was different—he was home, and all my sleepless torment, my lying awake to plan out each word would finally come to an end. But I hated not knowing what awaited me—hated it more than anything. I was the girl who loved spoilers and read the
end
of a novel before the
beginning
. Presented with the blue pill or the red pill—there was no question; I took the blue one every time. I liked my safe, normal life. I liked predictable. I didn’t want to know how far the rabbit hole went—yet here I was.
My flip-flops slapped against the hard pavement, and my fingers itched for a hand to hold—someone to tell me I could get through this night, someone to tell me I was strong. But I didn’t have anyone like that right now—I wasn’t even sure I’d believe them if I did.
When I finally reached the third floor, I hesitated at our apartment door. Kevin would be waiting for me, and that fact twisted my stomach in knots. But it was now or never, and on the count of three, I shoved the key in the lock and pushed.
The smell of his cologne hit me first. The expensive scent of citrus and musk now lingered with the unsettled dust of packed books. Darkness filled the room I’d left littered with boxes only hours before. The only light—a sliver cast through the open door; like a shining beacon to my late arrival.
“Were you just going to walk out on me like that? Without saying goodbye?” His voice cut through the darkness like cold steel, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
“If that was my plan, I’d be gone by now.” My voice shook, but I hoped he hadn’t noticed. I stepped over the threshold and flicked on the light.
He stood against a stack of boxes, his sandy blond hair a disheveled mess, but his clothes pristine and freshly pressed like they always were. He smiled at me—that charming smile that made everyone love him, but one I found terrifying in that moment.
His chin lifted as he took a swig of his beer. “Where have you been?”
“Nowhere.” Which was the truth. I’d been everywhere, and nowhere, all at the same time.
“Where, Katie?” He pushed himself upright, stalked toward me with long strides, and stopped when his polished black shoes touched the edge of my simple brown flip-flops. He stood only two inches above my five-foot-ten-inch frame, but there was an anger in his stance that was terrifying.
“I should be the one asking you that question.”
His eyes narrowed and he moved even closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?
“It’s over, Kevin. I know the truth.” Disgust spewed out of me—for him, for myself, for believing his lies for so long.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he retreated a step, and I grew a little stronger.
“Don’t give me that. Don’t stand there pretending to be innocent.
I’m done
.” I’d imagined myself screaming those words, but in that moment, they came out in a broken cry.
“Darling, what’s this about? Talk to me.” His eyes searched mine, his charming smile back in place.
I almost wished I could believe him. Things were easier when I didn’t know, when I lived in blissful oblivion. But I was an idiot, and as much as it hurt now, I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to that again.
Shoving my hand in my messenger bag, I pulled out a manila envelope that contained my proof and pushed it to his chest. It fell to the ground and dozens of photographs scattered across the hardwood floor. Recognition transformed his features as the faces of multiple women stared up at him. But not just women—he was there too. In fancy restaurants, hotels—in bed. “I can explain.”
“Screw you!”
He grabbed my arm, his fingers tearing into my flesh. “Who knows about this?”
His eyes were wild, his jaw constricted, and my heart stopped beating. He’d never hit me before, but for the briefest second I thought he might. I could’ve destroyed him with those photos; not only had he cheated on me, but he was playing with fire. The boss’s secretary, the copy editor who pretended to be my friend, and even the owner’s wife.
“No one,” I whispered. Because even though the thought had crossed my mind, even though he’d lied to me and made me look like an fool, I still couldn’t strip him of the career he loved more than life.
Relief washed his features, and his grip eased. “It didn’t mean anything, they don’t mean anything.”
He smiled again, the one I knew held anger under its surface, and bitter acid crept up my throat. I looked to the floor, unable to meet his stare any longer, and yanked my arm out of his grasp. “Why, Kevin?”
He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Don’t do this.”
“I need to know.” Because being in the dark was torture. A poison that saturated my mind, telling me all the reasons I’d failed. All the reasons I wasn’t good enough. Maybe it was because I didn’t have blond hair like the rest of them. That my boobs were too small, or because I sucked at laundry. The truth would hurt, but nothing could be as harsh as my own insecurities.
“Katie, being with those women was good for us. It all made me realize what I have at home with you.” He dropped to one knee. “I love you, darling. Don’t let one silly mistake ruin that.”
His words hit like a punch to my stomach.
Silly mistake?
I closed my eyes and stepped back.
“I want to grow old with you. I want you to have my babies. They’ll all have big blue eyes
just like you
. Marry me.”
Tears blurred my vision as I looked down at the man who knelt in front of me. The man that up until five days ago I thought I could spend the rest of my life with.
“I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted, we’ll buy a house, get a dog—”
“Get up!” Sobs wracked my body and my voice shook. “It’s over, Kevin. Over!”
He stood slowly, hands held up in a silent surrender. “How can you say that? Have the last two years meant nothing to you?”
