Page 40 of Perdition
So how did Sarah know?
Unless Frost told her….
Unless Frostshowedher….
Another significant, personal matter that Frost had so casually offered to another woman.
First, Sarah had taken her spot as Frost’s confidante, his shoulder to cry on, his “person” to rely on. Why else would be he speaking in hushed tones in the privacy of his office with the door nearly shut? A man didn’t invite people he didn’t trust into the sacred confines of his office, which meant Sarah was someone important to Frost. Something Em had once been to him.
Second, Frost had taken another woman to a place so deeply personal thatshe’dnever told another soul about it…stupidly believing that Mads—Frost—felt the same way. Apparently, it meant nothing to him to take a woman who wasn’t his wife to sit beneath the red maple tree.
Not just sit!
If Sarah was telling the truth…Frost had done more than just take Sarah to their special spot…he’d defiled it.
Before Emily had walked into her shop and was ambushed by that bitch, she’d been adamant about giving herself another day or so to think and consider before reaching out to Mads. She loved him, had dedicated her life to him and their family, and she knew she owed him a chance to explain himself, to man up and give her a clear and honest answer….
You want him to admit to having an affair? Can you handle hearing the answer?
Her heart racing, her throat tightening, her eyes burning, she knew that whether she could handle it or not, she absolutely needed to know.
But there was no time to prepare—she was so goddamn angry!
When she’d thrown all Frost’s stuff into his truck, the scribbled an angry note and tucked it into her property kutte, tossing that in with all the other stuff, she’d been livid, acting impulsively, not caring about much more than making a statement. Yes, she’d changed the key code, she’d refused hiscalls, but in all honesty…she’d hoped it was a wakeup call for both of them.
She was so tired of feeling alone and invisible and neglected in her marriage. She was so tired of hoping he’d call, text back, or come home. Did it really take that much effort to text a quick “I miss you”? Did it really mean nothing to him that she’d been silent? Okay, yes, she was being a little mulish by not texting him or calling him for days, but…he obviously didn’t care.
When did this become my life?
When did the love between us become so cold…so empty?
Why did our children leaving home create a vacuum so big it sucked the life out of what was supposed to be eternal?
Sorsha had been right in telling her to take a breather, then talk to her dad, to give him a chance to be the man they both believed he could be.
And that’s what Em had planned to do, even though she was still seething about what she’d overheard outside his office. She’d been determined—despite the hurt—to believe her husband still loved her, that the distance between them could be bridged or closed completely if they just sat down and talked through it.
But now….
Pulling up her husband’s contact, she called him, her hands shaking from the anger, from the fear, from the flood of rekindled dread suffocating her soul.
What if this is the end? What if he tells me Sarah was right, that he’d cheated on me, that our marriage is over because he doesn’t love me anymore?
Because she was old, worn out, ugly, fat, embarrassing—all the things Sarah was not.
Surprisingly, Frost answered after the first ring.
“Em? Baby?” He sounded relieved.
He wouldn’t for long.
“Your bitch just showed up at my shop, Frost, and I don’t appreciate her coming to my place of business to spout off her bullshit,” Em said, her voice venom and acid.
There was a moment of shocked silence, then he barked, “What the fuck are you talking about? And what the hell happened at home? Why did you change the key code and throw my shit in the truck—why was your property kutte disrespected like that, Emily?”
Oh, so he was demanding answers now, huh?
Well screw him and his damn questions.
