Page 44 of Unwell
Elijah wasn’t imaginary. He had a face. A body.A scent.
And he was the man who I’d devoted my life to.
TWENTY-SIX
NANCY
I’d fled, shoving Robert away when he tried to touch me. The empty halls were a small solace. At least I didn’t have to hide my tear-stained cheeks. As mad as I was at Robert, I couldn’t help but wish he would have come after me. I couldn’t bear the thought of his hands reaching for me, yet the fact he stayed with Ginny added salt to my many wounds.
The moment I got home, I locked myself in the bathroom and cried until my cheeks grew tender. When I ran out of tears, I climbed into a scalding shower and scrubbed every inch of my skin until it grew red raw. But it wasn’t enough. His touch clung to my body. How many times had he come home after screwing Ginny before climbing in beside me in the weeks since she’dbeen at Wellard? Had it been going on longer? I couldn’t let myself believe he was Elijah all along. That sharp peppery aftershave that tortured Ginny with her delusion of Elijah was the aftershave I bought Robert every Christmas. Could it be a coincidence that the smell that made her imagine Elijah was the same one Robert wore? A million possibilities crashed into me, each more preposterous than the last.
Sleep didn’t come when I crawled into bed in the early hours.
I lay awake all night, sick to my core. Ginny’s vacant stare was there every time I closed my eyes. Glassy. Hollow. Barely there, as Robert used her. I twisted the sheets into knots until morning bled grey into the windows, my eyes stinging with exhaustion.
As the sun’s rays moved over the ceiling in sliding lines, I dreaded Robert’s shift ending. How could I have been married to him for so long, yet not know him at all? I thought Wellard was warping him, but what if he was a hidden monster all along?
No. It couldn’t be.
I remembered Robert in those early days. Lean and boyish, with his hair flopping into his eyes. His smile was always so quick and easy. The way he’d press close to me at dances, his hands going from shy and shaky to bolder. Every one of those touches made me squirm with delight.
He’d whisper the sweetest promises into my hair.One day we’ll have a family, Nance. A proper one. You’ll see. Three little kids who look just like you.
I’d believed him.
And what had it got me? A husband who’d force himself on patients. A Marney, living in my home.
The door slammed, the sound making the entire house shudder. I dragged myself from the bed and gathered a robe around me like terry-cloth armour. When Robert threw open the bedroom door, he looked almost as god-awful as I felt. The room filled with his sweat and the acrid smell of stale tobacco. Beneath it, that same herby aftershave that had once meant safety.
It had become poison.
‘How could you?’ My voice cut through the air.
He dropped his bag by the door with a thud, arms folding in defence. ‘Don’t start.’
‘Don’t start?Don’t fucking start?I saw you screwing a patient.’ The absolute asshole couldn’t let this slide off his sloped shoulders like it was as small an infraction as forgetting to empty the trashcan. ‘With her.’
He didn’t flinch. No shame. No denial.
‘The baby’s foryou.’
His words settled like volcanic ash. ‘What?’
‘For you,’ he repeated, as if it was the most obvious sentence in the world.
‘What do you mean? You’re saying the baby is yours?’
‘Ours. Ginny’s my niece.’
‘That’s sick.’ The room tilted as my stomach lurched.
‘She’s my brother’s stepdaughter. Not blood.’
‘That doesn’t make it better.’ My throat burned as my head spun. ‘She’s already pregnant. Why continue?’
‘It keeps her calm. Pacified. Otherwise she hurts herself.’
The indifference in his tone made my skin crawl.
