Slip of the Tongue (40 page)

“Sadie, if you hear nothing else, hear this. A man like that will never love you more than he loves himself. If he does—if he truly loves you—he’ll understand that, and he’ll let you go.”

Her words lay heavy on my heart. Nathan has used the word
selfish
more than once over the past few weeks. Up until recently, I soaked up his adoration without apology. He liked it that way, though. Wherever we were in life, he always made me feel special, and to have him turn around and call me selfish for that hurts. But if that’s what he wants—my selflessness—maybe walking away is the way to give that to him. I’m not going to change anytime soon, and Nathan is unhappy with me. Amelia might be right. My decision to leave Nathan may just be best for all of us.

THIRTY-FOUR

When the door to Andrew’s house opens, I have to drop my gaze about three feet, because it isn’t my brother behind it. My niece, Bell, is undoubtedly a Beckwith, with purple-blue eyes and dark hair like Andrew and me.

“Aunt Sadie,” she screeches at a pitch that sends Andrew sprinting from the kitchen.

“What’d I tell you about answering the front door at night?” Andrew asks her, hitching up his sagging sweatpants.

Bell shrugs up at me. “That if I didn’t recognize the person, I should kick their—”

“All right,” he cuts her off, palming her small head like it’s a basketball. He raises his eyebrows at me. “What’re you doing here?”

I drop my duffel bag at my feet. “I needed a place to stay for the night.”

“You know Nate’s looking for you?”

I sigh. I haven’t spoken to him since he walked out the door with Ginger, although I did call the vet before I left work. Apparently Ginger is sedated at home. “No, I didn’t. I couldn’t find my phone this morning. It’s somewhere in the apartment.”

“Let me get that for you, aunt Sadie,” Bell says, grabbing my bag by its strap. It’s half her size, so she drags it over the doorway.

“Did your daddy teach you such good manners?” I ask, suppressing a smile.

“No. He says you aren’t a guest—you’re just family. I disagree, though.”

“I see.” I purse my lips at Andrew. “
Just
family?”

“Sellout,” he mutters.

I saw Andrew over Halloween when I took Bell trick-or-treating. So much has happened since then, though. We’re not a hugging family, but I go right to him.

He opens his arms automatically. “What’s wrong, Satan?”

I laugh into his chest. Andrew has always had my back, even as kids, but sometimes, he just didn’t like me. Like when I spied on him and his friends. Or when I warned his high school girlfriend he was going to dump her. Instead of Sadie, those times I became Satan, his evil sister.

I pull back and look up at him. With his high cheekbones, and slicked black hair, he’s a spitting image of our grandfather. He died when I was young, but since our dad wasn’t much of a role model, Andrew idolized Grandpa Beckwith.

Bell sings a string of
la-las
as she drags my duffel into the guest room. “We’ll talk later,” I say, nodding in her direction.

He shuts the door behind me. “You hungry? I just finished dinner. Spicy kale omelets.”

I unbutton my coat and follow him through the house. Against the odds, my brother has done well for himself. He skipped college to work for minimum wage at White Castle and was soon managing multiple locations in the northeast. He spent his nights learning to fix cars and restore classics from our grandfather’s friend, who then retired and sold Andrew his garage.

Bell skids in behind us, scrambling onto a barstool that looks too high for her. According to Andrew, she’s number one in her gymnastics class—even though I’m pretty sure the children aren’t ranked. “On Thursdays, we have breakfast for dinner,” she explains. “Because there are no rules.”

“There are
some
rules,” I say, shooting a warning glance at Andrew, “aren’t there?”

Andrew shrugs. He isn’t a typical father by any means, but he’s the best one I know. When Bell’s mom up and left them a few years ago, Nathan and I came for a weekend. Nathan took Bell everywhere he could think of to distract a three-year-old. Andrew and I stayed at the house, where I locked him inside and taught him how to cook, launder, make a bed, and clean. He was a fast learner, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

I eat the eggs and groan. “You’ve come a long way, grasshopper. What’s in this?”

He grins his signature, lady-killer smile. “And the teacher becomes the student.”

I toss a crispy breakfast potato at him. He pops it in his mouth. “I’m still light years ahead of you,” I say defensively. I take another bite. “I think.”

“Aunt Sadie,” Bell says. “I know all the words to the Rolling Stones.”

I raise my eyebrows at Andrew. “Seriously? That’s what you make her listen to?”

“She loves it. Don’t you, Bluebell?”

She looks stressed. “I try to listen to what my friends like,” she says seriously, “but when I do, I can’t get no satisfaction.”

Andrew and I laugh. She fights a giggle, but one corner of her mouth tugs. Andrew probably told her it wasn’t cool to laugh at her own jokes. Sounds like something he’d say.

After dinner, I help Bell with her homework while Andrew washes dishes. “I’m going to call Nathan,” he says, drying his hands. “I know he’s worried. You want to talk to him?”

I scratch my temple. I’m not sure what there is to say over the phone. Nathan must be even more tired than I am considering he didn’t sleep last night. And there’ll be plenty of time to fight when I get back. “No. Just ask him how Ginger’s doing.”

Bell’s head shoots up, but before she can ask, Andrew does. “What happened to Ginge?”

I pet Bell’s silky hair and look at Andrew over her head. “Nothing. She’s fine.”

He raises his eyebrows as if to ask what the hell’s going on, but there’s no way I’m getting into it with my baby Bell in the room. She’s made of innocence, and as far as Andrew and I are concerned, she’ll stay that way forever.

He disappears from the kitchen but after a minute, he’s back. “Sadie.” I look up. He’s holding out his cell. “For you.”

I kiss Bell on the top of the head, get up, and take the call on the back patio. I wander into the yard, where the dead grass sticks to my socks. I barely notice. “Hi,” I say into the phone.

“He can’t have you.”

My heart stops, and I stare out into the dark as Nathan’s words sink in. “What?”

“I said,” he pauses, “he . . . can’t . . . have you.”

“Nathan, this isn’t a contest. It’s complicated.”

“It’s simple, actually.” Though there’s determination in his voice, there isn’t an ounce of the anger I expected to hear. “I will climb the highest mountain. I will run the fastest mile. I will carry the world on my shoulders.” He takes a breath. “You think I’d sit back and let someone take you from me? I’ve made mistakes, but I will not let you out of this marriage for anything. I’ll fight for us, and you will too, even if I have to make you.”

I close my eyes and swallow down the lump in my throat. For so long, I wished for him to come back to me. I wandered the desert, searching for water—first on my feet, then, when I got weak, on my hands and knees. But it was someone else who gave me a drink. I got what I needed from Finn. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “If you knew what it was like—”

“I
do
know. I’ve been sick with worry,” he says. “I’d come get you, but Ginger needs me here.”

“How is she?”

“Fine. Apparently dogs’ paws have capillaries close to the surface. They bleed a lot. But the cuts aren’t as bad as they looked.”

“That’s good,” I say.

“She’s sedated.” He clears his throat. “I was trying to reach you.”

“I left my phone there.”

“I thought you were with him. I was over there for half an hour banging on his door, but the coward wouldn’t open it.”

I look at my socks, black shadows in the grass. It hadn’t occurred to me Nathan might go looking for me. I don’t even want to wonder what would’ve happened if he and Finn had come face to face.

“I’m not with him,” I say. “But so what if I was? I’m leaving, Nate. I’m giving you what you wanted.”

“You think this is what I want, Sadie? You couldn’t be more wrong.” He speaks frankly, as if there’s no arguing with the facts. “I’ve had a lot of time alone today to think, and I’m sorry things got this far. I didn’t do a good job explaining myself. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to let you go. I fucked up, but I have a long time to make it up to you, and I will.”

His words tug at my heart. Does he truly mean it, though? I can’t know for sure if I’m talking to my Nathan, or the impostor I’ve been living with recently. “It isn’t that black and white.”

“Sure it is. Go be with Bell. Kiss her for me. But tomorrow, first thing, come home. Ginger and I will be waiting.” He hangs up.

I lower the phone and breathe in the cold night air. My heart and my head war, but the worst part is, neither even knows which side its on. One second, my heart craves Finn’s warmth, his safe embrace, while my head tells me he’ll never be what Nathan is. The next, I’m thinking of all the reasons to walk away from Nathan, who hurt me on purpose, while in my depths I know—my heart beats for him.

I go back inside just as Andrew is trying, unsuccessfully, to get Bell into bed. “Come on, kid. It’s a school night.”

“But Aunt Sadie is here,” she cries. “It’s a special occasion!”

I stand in the doorway, watching them. Bell could be enough for me, couldn’t she? I love her like my own daughter. I don’t have to put myself through the agony each month of not being able to conceive. With Nathan, it would be a battle. He wouldn’t go down easy. With Finn, though, we’d have Marissa, and to him, that’s enough. I ache for my own Bell or Marissa, but not everyone gets what they want. And I’m the closest thing Bell has to a mom. Shana abandoned her, and when Bell’s old enough to understand that, Bell will need me more than ever.

I take over for Andrew and read Bell a story. By the time I finish, she isn’t asleep, but at least she’s no longer yelling. I close her door and meet Andrew in the kitchen, taking a barstool at the island as he pours me red wine. The fact that my bad-boy brother owns wineglasses makes me strangely proud.

“So what really happened to Ginger?” he asks, sliding the drink across the island.

“A casualty of Nathan’s and my epic fight this morning,” I say. “She cut herself on some glass, and Nate rushed her to the vet.”

He raises his eyebrows, pouring himself bourbon. “You and Nate fight epically? Since when?”

I look into my glass, no idea where to begin. How to even start. Andrew and Nathan are close, and Andrew doesn’t get close to anyone. They’ve been brothers for years now. I don’t want to take that away from him any more than I want to confess what I’ve done.

“When was the last time you saw Nathan?” I ask.

“A couple months ago.” He cocks his head. “No, wait. July fourth, actually. Has it really been that long?”

I nod, glancing up at him. “Weird, right? He loves coming over here, but the last few times, he’s had excuses not to.”

Andrew leans his elbows on the island. “I get it. He’s busy with work.”

“Not too busy for Bell.”

He concedes with a nod. “True. He’d drop anything for her. Too busy for you, then?” he guesses.

I shake my head. “We’ve been having problems, but it isn’t because of work.”

“Problems? Meaning?”

“He started acting different a few months ago. Almost overnight, he became distant and cold.”

Andrew spins his glass on the counter and says what I predict he will. “Cold and distant—that doesn’t sound like Nathan.”

“I know. I haven’t mentioned it, because I kept hoping it would get better. But up until today, he barely spoke to me for months and wouldn’t tell me why. Knowing the kind of couple we were, you can imagine how hard it’s been for me to be iced out.”

“Yeah,” he says. “The Nathan I know barely leaves you alone. You know that thing about putting on your own oxygen mask in an airplane before you help the person next to you?”

I nod. “He’d put mine on first. Always.”

“Exactly.” He sips his drink. “So what happened today?”

“I found out why he’s so upset. He knows about the abortion.”

Andrew freezes everything but his mouth, which drops open. “From seven years ago? How?” His eyes widen. “
I
didn’t tell him. Who else knows?”

“It’s stupid,” I say, sighing. “I looked up some stuff about abortions when we decided to stop trying to get pregnant. I think he was out of town that night, and I was drowning my sorrows in wine. I never hide anything from Nate, and I guess it just didn’t occur to me to erase my history. I’m not sure I would’ve, even if I’d thought about it.”

“And you told him it was his?”

“He knew. I guess he picked up some clues over the years, but didn’t put it together until he saw that.”

“Wow.” He blows out a breath. “Considering how badly he wants a kid, he must be . . .”

“He actually seems okay about that part,” I say thoughtfully. “He was more pissed that I hid it from him this long and that I didn’t trust him enough at the time to let him be there for me.”

“That’s understandable,” Andrew says. “But I’m not sure it’s enough to give you the silent treatment for so long.”

“I know. I think there’s more to the story we didn’t get to.”

“How’s that possible? What could’ve been more important than finding out?”

I drink more wine to bolster my confidence. “You know what Nate means to me. How perfect our marriage was.”

“Was . . .?”

With Andrew, it’s best to be straight. “I’m leaving him.”

He sets down his glass, straightening up. “What’re you talking about?”

“It got to be too much, and—” I stop. Confessing the truth about Finn isn’t any easier. It might even be harder since Andrew values loyalty above all else. I’m not sure he’ll understand.

“So that’s it?” He stares at me. “It’s just done? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I just—lost faith in him.” I roll my lips together. “He knew how hard it was for me to open my heart to him, and then when I wasn’t expecting it, he stomped all over it.”