Page 4 of Forever Mine

She turns to go, and I jump up from my chair. “Where are you going to go?”

She doesn’t turn to look at me, but she does stop. “I’m not sure. I heard that the duplex your brother's girlfriend was living in is open. I may check it out. Until then, I can stay with one of my friends from my book club.”

“No!” I say as I walk around her and stop in front of her. “You can stay here.”

Again, she crosses her arms over her chest. My hands fist at my sides because I want to reach for her, but I know I can’t. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to let her go. “You stay here, and I’ll move out into the pool house.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m not taking your home. I’m sure I can find something available.”

I put my hands on my hips. “What the fuck, Nat? As of an hour ago, this was our house, our home. You’ve decided that you don’t want this… you don’t want me anymore, but the fact remains, you are my wife, so you’ll stay here.” My voice is hard as I say it again. It’s like I need to make her understand that she’s still my wife. “Until the divorce is final, you are my wife, and you will stay in our house.”

She looks completely lost, and I don’t know what to make of any of this. She doesn’t seem happy with the fact she’s asking for a divorce, but she’s still doing it. I point to the ceiling. “I’m going to go pack and go out to the pool house.”

She lets out a sob but nods her head. “Okay.”

I take three steps before I turn back to her. “Is there someone else? Is that what this is about?”

For just a second, something flashes across her face. I wonder if it’s guilt, but just as quickly, the look is gone, and she’s shaking her head. “I have never cheated on you, Beau. I would never have done that to you.”

I open my mouth and then close it. What am I going to say? Beg her to stay and give me another chance? What’s the point? She’s not happy with me obviously, and I’m not going to force her to stay.

“I’ll be back.”

I go upstairs, and my mind is going in a thousand different directions. I’ve had plenty of experience packing fast for all the business trips I’ve been on through the years, and I pack a bag with all my bathroom stuff and then with a few suits over my shoulder, I go back downstairs. I stop in my office and grab my phone and laptop. I carry it all to the back door and set it down before searching for Nat. She’s sitting at the dining room table, her head in her hands.

I want to reach for her and rub her shoulders. I can tell by the way she’s sitting that she’s either on the verge of a migraine or she’s already there.

“Do you want me to grab your medication?”

She sighs, wiping at her face before lifting her head. She looks at me through hooded eyes. Yeah, she’s definitely experiencing a migraine, but she shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll get it. Are you sure you want to do this, Beau?”

I’m about to tell her hell no, I don’t want a divorce, but she continues. “I can go out to the pool house. It’s not right for me to stay here.”

I hold my hand up to stop her. “It’s fine. I’ll go out to the pool house. If it gets bad"—I point at her head and then at myself—“call me. I don’t want you in here suffering. I can draw you a bath before I go.”

My offer pains her, and she sobs as she takes a breath. “No, I’ll be fine.” She walks off with a muttered “Lock the door on your way out.”

I watch her walk up the stairs toward our bedroom, and it takes everything in me not to follow her. But the fact that she’s in pain has me staying where I am. I walk room to room downstairs, turning off lights. I make sure the front door is locked, and before I go out the back door, I set the home alarm and grab all my things.

Tomorrow, if she’s feeling better, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. There has to be a reason that she asked for a divorce out of the blue, and I’m going to find out what it is.

Chapter4

Natalie

Call me back or I’m coming to find you.

I read the text from Jillian, and I know she’s not lying. Of all my friends, Jillian would probably call the cops to come find me if I don’t call her back soon.

I’m about to call her when my phone rings. Sure enough, it’s her. “Hello, Jilly.”

Even though I feel like I’m hiding it well, Jilly is one of my best friends, and she knows me better than anyone. “What’s wrong? What’s happening? I went to your class this morning, and you had a sub teaching.”

I won’t even attempt to lie to her, and it’s not necessarily a lie. “Migraine,” I say, hoping that’s answer enough.

“Oh, honey, are you okay? Can I bring you anything?”

“I’m fine now. My head actually feels a lot better.”

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