“Thank him too then,” Shelby says.
“I should get going.” I rise from the ground. I feel exhausted, and I have a long drive ahead.
I look down at Shelby, and I lean in and place a kiss on her cheek, glad she doesn’t flinch.
“See you around, Shelby. You take care of yourself and Brody.”
“You going somewhere?” she asks, and I can’t help but feel a tinge of pleasure that she cares.
“Seattle. Just for a while.”
She crosses her arms, her shoulders and jaw set.
“Not for the reason you think. I’m taking Katherine back to the hospital.”
“The hospital?” Her eyes narrow.
“There is a lot I haven’t told you, Shelby, too much. But you weren’t right about me not knowing how it feels to lose a part of my soul. I do know what that feels like.” I look up at the sky for a second, letting out a breath.
“My son. He was four months old when he died. That is all I got with him.” I shake my head. “So yeah, I know what that’s like.”
“Oh, God, Ember. I didn’t know.” She places a hand on my arm.
“Katherine never recovered from it. She lost herself when Bailey died. And she’s been in a psychiatric facility until a couple of weeks ago when she left. The doctors agree that she still needs treatment.”
Shelby looks up at me, confused. “But she looks good.”
“She can convince people that she is. I may be the only one who can see through it.”
“Ember, what kind of a man abandons his wife in her time of need? First with Bailey and now with her being ill?”
I laugh out loud. “The kind of man you think I am, Shelby.”
I don’t know what I expected telling her that. People hear what they want to hear. With that, I leave her backyard and make my way to the car.
A long time ago, I realised that we all have untold stories, some of which are filled with nothing but pain and sadness. It can either make them more willing to listen or unable to. The same can be said for those with stories. There are times you don’t need to share a story that has already been written for you.
Chapter 22
Ember
The day Alex called me to tell me that my son had drowned was a day I remember so vividly like it was yesterday. I was sitting in the break room at the station; I’d just come back from an accident scene that left three dead and five injured. I felt like shit, so when he uttered those words no parent should ever hear, I wondered if I misheard him, asking him to say it to me over and over again.
Katherine had been drinking, and she left Bailey in one of those little baby baths. They were safe, we’d been told, because they had a curve the baby could fit into, face above the water. She was getting a refill when it happened. Bailey flipped himself over and was found face down in the water.
My world seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. I felt my heart being obliterated. My throat constricted, and I felt like I was drowning. Maybe in a way, I was, and I’ve been drowning ever since.
“What do you mean she isn’t here?” I ask my mother. I was too exhausted to drive yesterday, so I postponed the trip until today, and now I’m standing in my mother’s kitchen, and Katherine is God knows where.
“Well, she left last night. She said she was going to meet you in town.” My mother looks down at her hands.
“And when she didn’t come back, you didn’t think that was odd?”
“I have not been tracking that woman’s every move.” She keeps averting my gaze, and when my mother does that, I know something is up. She is almost as much of a wildcard as I am.
I close my eyes and press my lips together. “Mom, what did you tell Katherine?”
“Don’t pin this one on me. You should have been honest with her from the start.”
