Page 135 of Unhinged

Pulling into the driveway, Amos says, “A shower will make you feel better. I’ll prepare you some of your tea if you’d like.”

“Okay, tea. Thanks. A shower, yes.” I look over at him with sudden tears in my eyes.

He asks, “What is it? Are you in pain? Did you change your mind about the hospital?”

“No. I don’t think I can do this with Greg anymore.”

“Your marriage?” When I nod, he asks, “Why?”

I whisper, “Because it already hurts.”

Amos reaches over to tuck hair behind my ear. “You’re in love with Greg.”

I nod but then shake my head. “I’m not. I can’t be, Amos. I was wrong before, and he thinks of me as a stupid kid.”

“Simone, no. He feels the same way about you.”

“Don’t say that. I can’t do this fake shit anymore. I hate living a lie.”

“Talk to him.”

“No! Don’t you see? I’ll be alone and heartbroken without him again. I’ll lose my best friend.” I clutch Amos’s hand. “Besides you, of course.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “Of course. I beg of you to tell him.”

“If he felt the same way, then he would’ve told me already.”

“Greg fears rejection, Simone. Just like you do.”

I let go of his hand to pick up my purse. “Hopefully, my eye will look better tomorrow.” I open the door and head into the apartment, sore, desolate, and missing a part of me.

Looking into the bathroom mirror, my eye is a dark purple at the corner and is swollen, but it’s not as bad as I thought.

And then I look at my naked breasts. That bastard touched me. My mind goes to what those monsters did to Greg, and it doesn’t compare.

After showering, I change into my cloud pajamas. I then blow-dry my hair and remove the rest of my make-up that didn’t wash off in the shower.

When I come out of my bathroom, Frenchie is on the bed, so I sit and pet her. From downstairs, Amos yells that my tea is ready.

Sighing, I go downstairs, finger-brushing my hair, and stop when I see Greg sitting in the armchair.

His brown eyes fly over me. My heart punches hard, my breathing speeds up, and tears bite my eyes. Greg rises from the chair and meets me at the stairs, so I’m eye-level with him. He inspects my bruised eye, and he hoarsely whispers, “What happened?”

“It was an accident.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Greg glances past my shoulder to where Amos is and narrows his eyes before returning them to mine.

“Who told you?” I demand as he looks over the rest of my body.

Amos replies, “I did while you were in the shower.”

“I wasn’t in there long.”

Greg puts his hands on my hips as he still assesses me. “I got here fast.”

“Why? I’m okay.”

Greg arches an impatient eyebrow to match his scowl. “Amos said he found you on the ground, Simone. Don’t give me that shit.”

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