Page 23 of Chosen Road

“Amber…”

I heard his pained whisper of my name and heaved in a deep breath before turning around to face him.

“You remembered the day of the accident,” I confirmed.

The twenty-four hours before the accident were missing from his memory bank. It had given me hope that it was a one-time slip, or that maybe, possibly, what his assistant said at the hospital was true, and nothing actually happened.

On quaking legs, I moved into the family room and leaned against the back of the armchair. I needed a barrier between him and me, one that did not only exist in my mind. I crossed my arms over my chest, in part to hide myself, in part to hold myself together.

“Part of it,” he admitted gruffly.

He looked shell-shocked, as if he’d seen a ghost and could not believe his own eyes.

“She was at the hospital when I got there.” I could tell him that now.

Gus looked sickened, his eyes widening at what that might mean, but he didn’t turn away.

I swallowed hard and reached deep for my composure. “I thought, maybe, with her back at work this week, and you not saying anything, that I was wrong.”

His face fell. “I can’t believe it could be possible, but I don’t think you’re wrong, Amber. I only remember the start of something,” he winced. “I don’t know what happened exactly, but what I remember doesn’t look good.”

He was pale like he was when he first came home from the hospital.

He continued, “It’s not something that ever happened before. It’s not something I ever even considered. I’m not in the least bit attracted to her. I don’t know why or how... I’m so sorry, Amber.”

“For what?” I asked dully. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for. Maybe it was great. Maybe you’ll remember the whole thing and you’ll be able to jerk off to the memory in the shower.” My control began to slip. I needed to get away from him. I needed space to come to terms with the fact that I had, finally, succeeded in pushing him away. And yet, I could not stop the bitter words from spilling from my lips. “Actually, you’ll be free to go back for seconds and thirds, fuck her whenever you want.”

He turned his face away at that and gagged, swiping the back of his wrist across his mouth.

I hated to know what he remembered to elicit that reaction, and yet I felt the knowledge would help to kill the hope that struggled to withstand the fire inside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” I asked again, even as my spirit shrunk back from the threat of details.

“For everything. Whatever it was, everything that came before, my part in where we are now. Most of all, I’m sorry for hurting you like this,” he said, his voice tight with sorrow.

“Hurting me,” I repeated. That was the understatement of all time. Though I’d imagined him cheating on me countless numbers of times, walking into the hospital to be greeted by Jacqueline annihilated me in ways even my vivid imagination could not have conjured.

When I imagined it, I thought it would feel similar to when my mother left.

It was worse.

I had no choice but to belong to her, I didn’t choose her, and she walked away. I chose Gus, gave myself to him, placed what little hope I had in him. The enormity of what he’d done chose that moment to rise up in my awareness and I sobbed.

“You didn’t hurt me, you broke me! You broke our family! And then broke your fucking self probably trying to get home on time from wherever you two were! Where were you?” My voice descended to a whine, a mewl, and I swallowed the shame of the sound of my mourning.

“I don’t know,” he cried desperately. “It’s just a flash, a sliver of a memory!”

He looked tortured. Even as I watched, a tear slid down his craggy face, and I wondered if what he saw in his head was worse than the horror I imagined in mine.

I looked at my beautiful man standing strong and tall and broken, while in my memory Jacqueline screamed out her demands to be taken to him, as if she had the right. I retreated into my mind where I watched the guilt suffuse her beautiful face.

Saw the pity for me, mixed with the disgust for Jacqueline, flit across the nurse’s face.

Remembered the moment my rage slipped through the cracks sending Jacqueline back a step.

I’d hoped she wouldn’t return to work.

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