Slut - Woodruff Jettie - Страница 31

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“Yes, what are you doing?” I finally asked, wondering what my medical records had to do with anything.

“I’m going to call her.”

“Julie Shall?”

His hand dropped like dead weight to his keyboard and his eyes shot to mine. “You remember her name and you let me look for it for ten minutes?”

“You didn’t ask me,” I rebutted.

His head titled to the side and he growled like a grizzly bear, a gravely moan deep in his throat.

“What? You didn’t.”

Paxton swiped his phone and dialed the hospital. I was a little surprised to see it in his contacts. I didn’t really see him calling to check on me.

“Fifth floor, please,” he said into the phone, eyes narrowed on mine.

My heart did that fluttering thing with the adrenaline when I realized what was about to happen. For whatever reason, I knew it was her. I felt it, call it a twin thing, but I did. Deeply. I suddenly needed a drink of water as my throat dried and I thought about the possibilities.

“ICU step down, this is Julie.”

I moved Paxton’s phone to the ear nearest mine, and listened to every word. He gave me an annoyed look, but didn’t stop me.

“Oh, hey, you’re just the nurse I was about to ask for. I’m not sure if you remember me or not. This is Paxton Pierce. My wife was there back in the spring.”

“Of course I remember you. How is Gabriella?”

“She’s okay, but she’s found out a few things she’s trying to find answers to.”

“Oh, I was hoping you were going to say she regained her memory.”

“Not yet, but we’re sure her sister was with her when she wrecked. She’s been missing since the accident. Gabriella found an article where a female came in three days after her. She said you told her about a girl who went to a nursing home because nobody claimed her. We’re pretty sure she was hurt pretty bad, maybe unrecognizable.”

My heart stopped when she paused. “I wish I had good news for you. This lady was dragged by a bus, a black woman with no memory. I’m sorry.”

My body relaxed into Paxton’s while he thanked her and said goodbye. So much for twin intuition.

“I’m sorry, Gabriella,” Paxton said as his arms went around my body, a loving attempt to make me feel better.

“It’s fine. I’ll keep looking,” I replied sadly.

“I think I have something to make you feel better.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Although it wasn’t meant to be funny, Paxton laughed. “Someone from the state will be here in three days for a home study.”

I frowned and pulled away a little. “State? Why do they want to study our home?”

“They have to make sure we’re capable of taking care of Vander. You know, make sure we can provide for him and all.”

I stood with that, feeling the wind knocked right out of my lungs. “What do you mean?”

He said it like we were running out for milk or something. “We’re going to get Vander.”

I wasn’t ready to buy it just yet. “I don’t trust you,” I repeated. Again, not even trying to be funny. I didn’t understand this side of Paxton, or this tone. Paxton didn’t talk to me like he cared. Not like this. I wasn’t lying. I didn’t trust him. Not at all.

“Gabriella, watching that video, hearing you describe your sister’s skin being peeled from her face, and the sound of your voice when you described her begging for you take care of him. I—I—

I helped with my own words, trying to understand what he wanted me to comprehend. “You felt empathy?”

“I always feel empathy. I felt it today when my daughter had to think about her mommy leaving her again. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Only me.”

“I’ve never felt it for you. We didn’t click like that.”

“I don’t even know what that means, Paxton.”

“What if these videos disclose that you’re not really my wife, that you’re really Vander’s mom and not Rowan and Ophelia’s?”

“It won’t.”

“How can you be so sure? Maybe I wasn’t in love with you before because you weren’t you. Maybe that’s why you were never in love with me. Maybe you were your twin.”

I shook my head and blinked my eyes. “Shut up. You’re making me confused. Why did you do that? Is that what you’ve been doing in here all day? Is that why you kept closing the door? So I couldn’t hear?”

“Yes, I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it turned out to be a flop. It’s real, and we’re about to be the proud custodial parents of a five-year-old. What’s wrong? I thought you would find that something to hold on to.”

I cleared my throat before trusting my voice. It helped but still cracked. “But I didn’t get to go through it with her. That sucks.”

“That’s not my fault, Gabriella. You can’t pin that one on me. I never even knew about her.”

“Why, Paxton?”

“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out. What if I’m right? What if we learn that you’re not my wife? What then, Gabriella?”

I let out an exasperated breath, tired of assuring him of my identity. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Mom, can I have a nana?” Ophelia called to me in a groan as her arms and legs stretched. I swear that girl dreamed about food. She always woke up hungry.

I walked out of Paxton’s office and across the room to the girls, another few hundred questions flooding my mind. I wasn’t sure I was even up to watching the videos. I’d had enough ‘what the fucks’ for a lifetime, and I wasn’t sure I could handle any more. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to anymore. Maybe Mi was right. Maybe I should be happy with Vander and move on. Maybe, but I couldn’t, and I knew as soon as the girls were down for the night, Paxton and I would turn another page. The question being whether or not I was ready for it. If he was.

Eight

Our evening was a little strange, quiet with a lot of apprehension. We ate in the Florida room and then Paxton and the girls played around the pool while I cleaned up. I was honestly beginning to think I needed medication, something for the never-ending anxiety. Self-medicating with a splash of orange juice and a lot of Grey Goose helped me make it through the evening.

I picked up the house a little while Paxton and the girls dove for their magic stones, racing to see who could do it the fastest. Paxton never won. I smiled when I heard him grunt, like he was disappointed that he lost—again. The folder on the edge of Paxton’s desk caught my eye when I reached an arm in to turn off the lamp.

Although Paxton’s office was off limits and I knew it, I walked in, sat in his chair and opened the folder. An instant smile spread across my face when I saw him, content on a rug with roads. Van pushed a semi-truck along a woven gray path, his lips in the position of a sputter. I could almost hear the sound of an engine coming from his mouth as he played.

My smile transformed into a frown when I read about Tilly and John Martin. Vander had been removed from the foster home, and child abuse charges were filed. Nothing I had learned went through me like that did. My body trembled with something I’d never felt in my life. More anger than I had ever felt for Paxton. A rage of fire I never knew I had burned like wildfire throughout my entire being. Every emotion that I could have felt, was felt at one time.

“That was back in June. He’s not there now. Marsha said he was fine, that he was thriving and doing well.”

I looked up from the God awful evidence covering his little body, to Paxton, towel around his waist, a damp body, and messy wet hair. My bottom lip quivered as I tried to hold it together, not to break down and cry. “Someone hurt him?”

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

The back of my hand did little to conceal the tear sliding down my cheek. “Someone hurt him in June. I should have had him by then. I didn’t protect him. I promised Izzy that I would.”

“You didn’t know, Gabriella.”

“What’s the matter, Mommy?” Ophelia questioned from behind her daddy, water dripping to the hardwood from her soaked body.

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