Forsaking All Others (From This Day Forward Book 2) Read online

  “Fuck Jess!” I don’t mean to shout the words but I do.

  Beth leans over, clutching her knees, her shoulders heaving. I’ve done it. Now, she’s crying. I place my hand on her shoulder just as she pops her head up, I narrowly avoid getting my nose broken. She’s got tears running down her face, but she is laughing! Laughing at what, I have no idea. “What’s so funny?”

  She catches her breath long enough to enlighten me. “Fuck Jess? Didn’t you already do that, David?”

  She immediately begins wheezing with laughter again and I worry she’s lost it. All the stress from the accident and finding out about the infidelity has done it. She’s snapped.

  “Are you okay, Beth?”

  She straightens up, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. “I’m fine, David. I’m just trying to add some humor to all of this.”

  I take a step toward her and she backs up. I continue doing so until her back hits the living room wall. I cage her in, my arms on either side of her head. “Beth, none of this is funny—” I plan to say more, but her heaving chest and wide eyes take me under. She’s staring up at me, waiting to see what I do next.

  I lean down and press my lips to hers. She’s so soft and sweet. I nip at her lower lip, drawing her in further. I’m a selfish bastard, I know that. I should let her go and maybe later, once I’ve had a few drinks, I’ll agree to do just that. At this moment though, I’m going to savor the feel and taste of her.

  I expect her to stop me when she brings her hands up, but she surprises me. Her hands lock around my waist, pulling me even closer to her. If she’s gone mad, I don’t know that I want her to regain sanity. My tongue makes its way inside her sweet mouth and I feel that I am quickly losing control.

  I pull away reluctantly, “Beth—I gotta stop,” her face falls, “Baby, if we don’t stop, I’m going to pick you up and we’re going to bed. Believe me, I’d love nothing more, but I want us to talk. I need to know why you filed.”

  Beth bites her bottom lip, which is swollen from my assault on her mouth. “David, I didn’t know what else to do. We hurt each other badly and obviously we weren’t enough for each other,” she hesitates and her voice is almost too quiet to hear, “More than that though—I can’t help raise a child that you and Jess made. It would be this forever reminder every time I looked at him or her.”

  Her words crush me. I knew the situation would be hard to manage, but I never looked at it from her standpoint. Raising a child that was the product of infidelity—I don’t know that a saint would take that on. I run my hands over my eyes, as if that will give me a clear mind. Instead, it dredges up anger again.

  “What about Landon? I saw you two today in the parking lot. Are you going to start seeing him?”

  She glares at me, “First of all, that’s not any of your concern and secondly, why were you staking out the office parking lot?”

  “I wasn’t staking out the parking lot, but I do find it interesting that Landon just so happened to be there today. I don’t trust the guy. I think he’s stalking you.”

  She laughs without humor, “That’s interesting, coming from the guy who was camped out in the same parking lot, watching me.”

  “I saw the way he looked at you, Beth. Jesus, you think I’m just going to consent to a divorce so you’ll be free to go to him?”

  “You have no right to contest this, David. No right!”

  The anger has now taken over, “That’s where you’re wrong. I have every goddamn right. You are my wife! I fucked up, I’m well aware, but I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight!”

  She’s crying now and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. Her voice is just above a whisper due to her tears, “Please, David. Please don’t make me relive it. I don’t want to see Jess every time I look at you—just like you don’t want to look at me and see Landon. We’re poison to each other, you and me.”

  Her words are like a knife to my chest. “Beth, I love you. I love you so damn much and I’m not signing the papers. I’ve got sixty days, the way I see it. Sixty days to make you see what a mistake this is.”

  She sinks down the wall until she’s sitting, “You’re really going to fight me? You want to go before a judge to settle this?”

  I nod, “If that’s what it takes. In the meantime, be prepared to see a lot of me, baby. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Get out, David.”

  I push the anger down and try to lighten the mood, “So, I guess you’re taking a raincheck on sex tonight or is that still on the table?”

  Her mouth falls open in shock and I grin at her, even though smiling is the last thing I feel like doing. “Should I alert the media that I’ve rendered Beth Greene speechless?”

  She frowns at me, but her gaze is heated and I know I’ve gotten through to her, at least physically. “Good night, David. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”

  When I get back to the hotel, I immediately reach for the bottle of Pendleton. I’m ready to get lost in the bottle when I think of her words. I’ve got to change. I can’t numb myself to this anymore. As much as it’s going to suck, I need sobriety to fix all of this and get her back. I dump the rest of the bottle down the bathroom sink and prepare for the hangover from fucking hell.

  It’s been a long, emotionally exhausting day. I thought seeing Jess and David was stressful enough, but then Landon popped up by my car. It would be a severe understatement to say that I was emotionally tapped out by the time I managed to get into my car to leave. Of course, because it’s my life, it couldn’t end there. Fate couldn’t let me enjoy the rest of my day in peace, no sir.

  I’d just about gotten my blood pressure back into a normal range and was jamming out to some Taylor Swift on the radio when it happened. The music cut off abruptly due to an incoming call…from my mother. You know, after the car wreck, she made no attempt to reach out to me. Maybe I deserved that, I had thrown her under a bus to keep my sins a secret after all. On the other hand, it was like a breath of fresh air to not have my every move scrutinized.

  “Hi Mom.” I answer with a cheeriness that I certainly do not feel.

  “Elizabeth. I was working in the front flower bed this morning when Jean stopped by with the newspaper. Would you like to guess what she showed me?” Her tone is clipped and I feel as though I’m back to being eight years-old, scolded for breaking a piece of china.

  “I can’t imagine what it could be, mother.” She hasn’t bothered to pick up a phone and check on me in over six weeks. I’m not giving her what she wants that easily.

  There’s silence for a couple of seconds and then my mother shrieks into the phone, “Do not play games with me, Elizabeth Marie! You filed for divorce from David?

  I have to turn the car’s volume down in an effort to save what’s left of my hearing.

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I filed for divorce.” I’m going straight to Hell.

  “Why? Why in God’s name would you throw away a marriage to a man who has put up with so much from you? Is this because of that other guy? Are you divorcing David to be with him? I raised you better than this, Elizabeth!”

  Because I have no shame at this point, I begin laughing and it takes me a minute to collect myself so that I can answer her. “No, I am not divorcing David so that I can be with ‘that other guy.’ It just didn’t work out.”

  I debate on whether or not to tell her the truth, but then I remember, again, that this is the same woman who couldn’t be bothered to see if her only child was okay after the car accident. Even her busybody of a best friend, Jean, at least sent flowers.

  “I don’t recognize you anymore, Elizabeth. This behavior is too much. And what will people think when they find out? This—”

  I cut her off with what sounds very much like a snarl, “You don’t recognize me? That’s fanfuckingtastic! You wanna know why? Because I don’t recognize myself anymore. That girl who was afraid of everything? Yeah, she died in that car wreck. Which car wreck, you ask?
The one that almost killed me, mother! You wouldn’t know because you couldn’t be bothered to check in,” I suck in a deep breath in order to continue, “And seriously, who gives a flying fuck what other people think? They’re certainly not the ones having to live through it. I’m so sorry to have made you look bad in front of your uppity church friends, but I’ll be damned if I let you speak to me like this ever again.”

  I hear her sharp intake of breath before smashing the end call button with a little more force than was probably necessary.

  My pulse is racing and my body feels as though it’s experiencing fight or flight. “I’m sorry, little bean. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t get upset like that—it’s no good for you.” I don’t know why I’ve adopted the nickname, “bean,” but it fits.

  I’m traumatizing this baby already. The amount of stress this poor thing has been subjected to just in the last hour has me ready to turn the car around and drive back to my doctor’s office.

  The tears fall silently onto my lap for the remainder of my drive back to work.

  When I get home, I immediately strip out of my work clothes and let my hair down—literally. I want nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep. It doesn’t matter how much sleep I get lately, it never seems to be enough. Every ounce of energy is being poured into growing this baby and I’m running on fumes right now.

  I pull out my ultrasound pictures and settle in to bed, studying every little feature of my gummy bear. I’d been feeling like I was spinning out of control, but the minute I heard the heartbeat and saw it dancing around on the ultrasound screen, I was in love. In that moment, I knew that every part of this journey was worth it. The daily vomiting, needing a nap at lunchtime every day, and generally just being an emotional wreck—I’d gladly bear this cross in order to bring the best part of me and David into this world. I mean, I’d prefer that the vomiting stop sooner rather than later, to be honest.

  The knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I’m a bit wary when it comes to answering doors lately—especially when I’m not expecting company.

  I open the door up to find David leaning against the bricks of the house. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and jeans that hug his lower body. His hair is windblown and it’s obvious he’s come straight from work. I tried not to let myself notice him this morning, but now I have to pull my gaze away from him. My inner romantic is shaving her legs and touching up her makeup.

  “David? What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to see you. We didn’t get a chance to discuss much earlier. I want to talk about the divorce.”

  The divorce. It’s really the last thing I want to discuss right now, but I feel like I’ve talked it over with everyone else today—what’s one more person?

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.” I hold the door for him and try to keep my gaze passive.

  He immediately notices the plethora of boxes I’ve got scattered throughout the living room. His face immediately darkens. Shit, looks like nice David has left the building.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “I’m moving, David.” I don’t know why he looks surprised by this.

  He sighs, “Is this because of the divorce papers, because I’m not fucking signing them. We were good together and we could be good together again.”

  I immediately begin laughing. This has been the most emotionally exhausting day and the fact that he thinks we can come back from this is suddenly hilarious to me. “Good together? You mean when we were cheating on each other? Is that the definition of a good marriage to you? Geez, you think that’s how it was for your parents?” I don’t mean to hit below the belt with my comment, but someone has to bring rationality back to the conversation. David’s dad, John, was an amazing husband and father. I can’t imagine that he and Louisa ever had to navigate a situation like this.

  “Do not bring my parents into this. Answer the damn question. Why are you moving?”

  So much for being comfortable. I will not sit here and let him yell at me like I’m a child. I get out of my chair and stand before him, daring him to push me any further. “Look around you, David. There are reminders of us everywhere in this house. I know you’re living in a hotel right now—it’s just not right. Not when you’re expecting a baby with her,” the bile rises in my throat. When will I be able to discuss the two of them procreating without barfing? “I’m thinking of moving in with Lauren, she needs a roommate. I thought you’d want to be a family, and I know Jess won’t stand for living anywhere but here.”

  His voice is so loud, it startles me. “Fuck Jess!”

  I can’t help it. I lean over and lose myself in silent laughter. Tears are pouring from my eyes. Out of all the things he could’ve said, I did not expect that. I also didn’t expect to have such a visceral reaction when his hand touches my shoulder. It reminds me of a song by Frou Frou. I feel that I could “ride a wave” from David’s inhaling, exhaling—probably even him just standing in front of me. Damn pregnancy hormones.

  “What’s so funny?” He doesn’t sound amused.

  It takes me a minute to get myself under control long enough to tell him. “Fuck Jess? Didn’t you already do that, David?” I fall apart again and I think I’ve snorted at least twice during my laughing fit. So ladylike.

  He takes his hand off my shoulder. “Are you okay, Beth?”

  I stand back up, trying to compose myself. “I’m fine, David. I’m just trying to add some humor to all of this.”

  David looks pissed. He take a step toward me and I instinctively take a step back. My heart is going double time and my desire for him is like a forest fire—raging out of control. Lord help me.

  He backs me into a wall and cages me in his arms. I look up at him, willing him with my mind. Kiss me. Kiss me. For the love of God, kiss me. It’s become a chant that I’m repeating over and over.

  “Beth, none of this is funny—”

  He’s right. Nothing about this is funny or cute. I’ve just filed for divorce and now I’m silently begging him to kiss me. Maybe he’s right to worry about my mental state. I’ve obviously lost my damn—

  His mouth is on mine before I can finish my thought and I am ready to forget everything. The divorce. Jess. Their baby. We could run away, live on an island somewhere. He could fish for a living and I could open a little beachside café for tourists. We’d be so happy. Just us and our little bean.

  Yeah, Rationality? It was nice of you to stop by, but I’m gonna need you to leave now.

  I bring my hands up and wrap them around his waist, pulling his strong body into mine. He smells like sawdust and sweat. Incredibly, I find that turns me on even more. I need this contact. I’m all but grinding myself against him when he pulls away from me.

  “Beth—I gotta stop,” No! We can’t stop now! “Baby, if we don’t stop, I’m going to pick you up and we’re going to bed. Believe me, I’d love nothing more, but I want us to talk. I need to know why you filed.”

  I bite my lip, stalling for time. I’m trying to hold onto this high, but his words are sending me crashing back to earth. “David, I didn’t know what else to do. We hurt each other badly and obviously we weren’t enough for each other,” I stop myself. I don’t want to fight with him, especially since we were just getting along so well, “More than that though—I can’t help raise a child that you and Jess made. It would be this forever reminder every time I looked at him or her.”

  He runs his hands over his eyes and I know he’s trying to keep his temper in check. The thought surprises me. Just when I feel that I’ve remembered everything, little things like this come back to me from out of the blue.

  “What about Landon? I saw you two today in the parking lot. Are you going to start seeing him?”

  What? How would he know that?

  “First of all that is not any of your concern and secondly, why were you staking out the office parking lot?”

  He’s getting frustrated and he has no trouble letting me know it. “
I wasn’t staking out the parking lot, but I do find it interesting that Landon just so happened to be there today. I don’t trust the guy. I think he’s stalking you.”

  I laugh mirthlessly, “That’s interesting, coming from the guy who was camped out in the same parking lot, watching me.”

  Oh, hello pot. Meet the kettle.

  “I saw the way he looked at you, Beth. Jesus, you think I’m just going to consent to a divorce so you’ll be free to go to him?”

  My inner romantic is searching for migraine medicine at this point. Way to kill the mood.

  Deep breaths. In and out. In and—oh fuck it.

  “You have no right to contest this, David. No right!”

  He slams his hand down on the table next to the sofa. “That’s where you’re wrong. I have every goddamn right. You are my wife! I fucked up, I’m well aware, but I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight!”

  And right on cue, here come the waterworks. Why can’t I just be angry? Why do I have to cry? I need to end this fight now. I don’t have any energy left to expend here.

  My voice comes out much softer than I anticipated, “Please, David. Please don’t make me relive it. I don’t want to see Jess every time I look at you—just like you don’t want to look at me and see Landon. We’re poison to each other, you and me.”

  He moves around behind the sofa, and I’m not sure if he’s aware that he’s just placed a barrier between us.

  “Beth, I love you. I love you so damn much and I’m not signing the papers. I’ve got sixty days, the way I see it. Sixty days to make you see what a mistake this is.”

  Damn. He’s been doing his research. The sadistic side of me thought he’d sign the papers and run off to start a new life with Jess. My inner romantic hoped he’d do exactly what he’s doing now. To say I’m experiencing internal conflict would be putting it mildly.

  I sit down on the floor, my legs suddenly refusing to cooperate anymore. “You’re really going to fight me? You want to go before a judge to settle this?”