Page 130 of Unbroken

“He volunteered the entire time you were there?”

Shelly shrugged like she didn’t realize how much weight that question held. How life-changing her answer would be. Because, of course, she didn’t. She didn’t know the crisis I was having while standing right next to her.

“No, actually. He was only there a month or two after I got there, and if I remember correctly, he only came in a couple times. Maybe I scared him off.” She laughed, but I couldn’t hear it.

My world had shrunk to the small part of the photograph in my hands. The centimeter-by-centimeter piece that made my legs nearly give out. It came crashing down over me then, whose face I was seeing and why my gut was so persistent.

Except my gut was years too late.

“Can I take this one?” I asked before I could no longer speak.Because I figured that was next. My throat felt swollen, and it became increasingly hard to swallow the longer I stared at his little fucking face.

Shelly answered an agreement of some sort, but I didn’t hear the words. They were muffled by the blood pounding behind my ears.

“I’m so sorry,” I muttered. “I…umm…I have to go.”

Shelly looked up at me, and I knew I should have made an excuse for my sudden departure. But I couldn’t. My thoughts were too disjointed, and I had to get out of there as quickly as I could.

“Okay, sure, sweetie. Are you okay?”

My answering nod was shaky and choppy and nowhere near as believable as I hoped.

With the picture safely held in my clammy hand, I stepped around her and all but ran from the room. Through the living room, I didn’t stop until I was throwing open the back door and charging into the blinding sunlight.

It was like a bullet to the heart, stopping me clean in my tracks.

Each breath felt like a knife to my lungs. My entire body was shaking. The world was imploding under my feet.

I’d been so stupid and blind. Swiping away sweat gathering on my forehead, I managed to lift the photo for another look. It was just as nauseating as the first time.

My vision swam, and my stomach turned.

The taste of betrayal was tart and bitter on my tongue.

How could he? How could he?I thought over and over again. The question was punctuated with moments when I should have figured it out earlier. So many moments when it should have been clear.

But my focus was elsewhere; it wasanywhereelse.

How could he? How couldI?

Before I’d consciously decided, my feet were carrying me up to Devon’s room. I stumbled and almost fell several times, but Ifinally pushed open the door. Tato was resting on the end of the bed. I didn’t wake him.

I grabbed my purse and shoved the photo in the front flap of my journal. Each entry tainted with the truth of it.

A second later, I ran back down the stairs. The metal gate creaked as I pushed it open. The keys fell from my shaking hands twice, and each time I bent to pick them up, dizziness slammed into me again.

But nothing felt real anymore.

Finally, I managed to get in my car, turn it on, and back out of the driveway. My white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel was all I could feel. Except for the panic that was seconds from boiling over.

I rolled the windows down, but the wind whipping through the car did me no good.

Just like last time.

There was one of those thoughts. Except it didn’t disappear as quickly. It lingered for several seconds.

It would feel so much better if you just went a little faster.

I ground my teeth and sped through an intersection. I was already going too fast. So fast, yet my mind was still spinning.

---