Page 43 of Trick of Light

“Please, Nick.” Relief flooded through her. A part of her hadn’t really believed she would find him. A part of her had really assumed the worst. “We can get through this.”

After another painful thirty seconds, Nick cranked the doorknob. The door creaked open to reveal another manifestation of Nick’s depression. More pizza boxes were piled in the corner, beer cans were scattered throughout, and a Quentin Tarantino film was frozen on the screen on the opposite side of the room. Clearly, he’d built himself a nest in his office, drawing the curtains and cranking the air conditioner.

Nick himself looked worse for wear. His cheeks were ruddy and unshaven, and it looked like he’d lost a great deal of muscle and put a bit of weight on his belly. His hair was tousled and unwashed.

Still, he was her husband. Still, this was the man she’d slept next to for hundreds of nights. The man she’d made love to. The man who’d held her babies while they’d slept.

Bethany let her shoulders drop. Nick raised his hands and shrugged.

“I didn’t want to let you in,” he said, almost accusatorially.

Bethany stepped into the office and shut the door behind them. She wanted to meet him on his terms. She removed a pile of magazines from the sofa and sat down, still looking up at him. After a long silence, he walked to the desk, poured himself a stiff drink of whiskey, and sat beside her. Bethany wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t offered her any. That wasn’t his way.

But she wanted to stay sober for this anyway. She wanted to be alert. To guide them.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Bethany began.

Nick’s gaze went straight to the carpet.

“The kids have been worried, too,” Bethany said although she wasn’t sure it was true. They were having an adventure-filled summer, free of the disappointments that had festered in their family home.

“How are they?” Nick asked.

“They’re safe. They’re fine.”

Nick was quiet. He sipped his drink.

“Will you just talk to me, Nick?” Bethany asked, hating how vulnerable she sounded. “Will you just tell me what happened?” Tears streaked her cheeks.

Nick coughed. “I messed up. That’s all.”

Bethany frowned.

“And it’s not the first time,” Nick said. He palmed the back of his neck. “Far from it, in fact.”

“Okay. That’s okay. People make mistakes.”

Nick gave her a sharp look. “You don’t.”

“I have.”

Nick coughed into laughter. It sounded unkind. “You can’t understand what it’s like.”

Bethany knew this was a manipulation tactic—telling someone they couldn’t possibly understand that they weren’t empathetic enough.

“Try to make me understand.”

“I was raised as a Waterstone,” Nick spat. “I was always told I had to be the best in my class. I had to go to a prestigious school. I had to become like my father, or I was useless. I’ve never told you how cruel my father was when he learned you were deemed the ‘more successful pupil’ during medical school. The things he said about me and you were monstrous. Manipulative.”

Bethany’s throat was tight.

“I wanted to study you. I wanted to figure out what your secret was,” Nick rasped. “You were such an enigma. I hated you! I genuinely hated you.”

Bethany’s stomach thrashed. She thought she was going to throw up.

“But my father hated you so much more,” Nick said, his eyes glinting. “And I was drawn to you. Drawn to your beauty and your intellect. And before I knew it, I told my parents I was in love with you. Oh, they were upset.” Nick shook violently.

Bethany was speechless. When she finally mustered the strength, she said, “You’re saying you fell in love with me because your parents hated me? Is that really it?”

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