I went to Cal's work dinner tonight. I need to buy more designer clothes. I hate embarrassing him, but I didn't know they'd all be so fancy.
I opened the last diary hours later, a sickness burned into my soul. The words on the page were written by a person I didn't recognise. A woman so desperate for approval that she’d begun to hate herself, hate her body, her thoughts, her life.
She said horrible things and wrote in these diaries seeking forgiveness but was unable to stop. She pushed away her husband but wanted him with such a burning passion that it ached. She was in purgatory, waiting for the inevitable moment her husband left her.
My tears had long since ceased, burned away by shame.
I opened the soft leather cover of the final diary to the first page.
Thanksgiving. Cal left me today. He said he'd be back for his things in a few days.
I can't breathe. I said unforgivable things to Honey. Cal's sister didn't deserve my censure.
It’s just… when I look at her, I see her gorgeous confidence. Her full body. Her beauty and wit, and I know I can't measure up. I know I'm stuck battling this rotting, embarrassing, horrible shell I live in.
I’m lashing out. I’m hurting. And I want everyone to hurt as much as I do.
Gods, why am I so awful? Why can’t I stop?
I let out a shuddering breath, unable to believe the words before me. He'd left. He'd walked out. I read on.
Cal agreed to meet me for lunch. We went to a diner near his work. It hurt to see him watching me with such angry and disappointed, hopeless eyes.
It's Christmas. Cal spent it with Honey and her new partner. I think Willodean went as well. Collins is in London.
I'm all alone.
And I have no one to blame but myself.
I just want things to go back to before everything got so messed up.
I wish I could go back.
I need to change. I have to.
I sucked in a breath, realising the next page contained the last entry—it was dated the day of my accident.
It's New Year's Eve. I invited Cal over, but he refused. Said it was better if we waited to see each other at the counselling session. But the marriage counsellor can't get us in until late January.
I can’t live without him. It hurts. Everything hurts.
He wants a divorce, and all I want is him.
Gods, how did I let this happen? How did we end up here?
I ache for my husband. My heart feels as if it is breaking, shattering. Everything hurts.
I have to change. I can’t let him leave. I can’t. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. He’s the only man I will ever love.
And he deserves better. We both do.
I reread the words, unable to bear the aching in my chest.
"Emily?" Cal's voice came from the hall. "You home?"
I choked out a strangled sound, unsure if I should allow him to find me like this.
"Em?" he called again, sounding worried. "Pretty Eyes?"
