Twisted Reality (Blind Reality #2) (22 page)

Because she’s been down this path before, that’s why. And I promised to never do that to her.

“Where is she, Bronx?”

He shrugs. “I’m not fucking telling you.”

“She’s my wife,” I say with authority. “I have a right to know.”

“Your rights sailed when you stuck your dick back into Jules. Here’s what I don’t get, Josh. Joey fucking loves you. She worships the ground you walk on, why do this to her? Why fill her head with false promises?”

“I didn’t. I do love her. This shit with Jules …” I pick up a photo—it’s of her and me together, but I don’t remember taking it. “I didn’t take these and I haven’t been to any appointments with her.”

“There’s proof,” he says, picking up the heap on the table and dropping it back down. “How do you explain all of this? And her dress, Josh? Joey opened her fucking home to that witch and this is how she repays her?”

I sit down and rake my hands over my face, groaning out loud in frustration. “The dress was in Joey’s closet, which would mean Jules went in there on one of the nights she showed up here.” I pick up a tattered piece of her dress; it’s an off-white, almost beige color and reminds me of the champagne we shared after she agreed to marry me again. Tears prickle my eyes as I clutch the fabric to my chest.

“I didn’t cheat, nor did I lie to her,” I tell Bronx even though I don’t owe him anything. “I’m so in love with her, it hurts. I physically ache when she’s not near me, and knowing that I knocked up Jules kills me inside every single day. I know its destroying Joey, too. I would never do this to her, go to those appointments and not tell her.”

“Yeah, well, it sure looks like it.”

The photos are spread out all over the couch, mocking me. I pick up a few and feel the bile burning my throat. Jules spread out on our bed in nothing but a shirt with her bulging belly sticking up. She’s smiling, like this is some kind of game to her. But who took the photo? When was she in our house when we weren’t home?

“The baby isn’t yours, Josh.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Is it to give Joey hope that this nightmare goes away?”

He shakes his head and sits back down on the couch as if he’s welcome. He’s not. I want him to leave after he tells me where to find my wife.

“Because I was with her the night before I met Rebekah, which happens to be about a month before you went on the show. I made the mistake of bringing Jules back to my apartment. We had been drinking and shit started getting heavy. She’s a sure fucking thing, so I fucked her.”

“You son of a bitch! This whole time I’m sweating bullets, trying to reassure my wife that I’m devoted to her and you’re the fucking father?”

“No, I’m not. When I was with her she had an implant in her arm. I’m not a fucking doctor, but unless she took it out and you have miracle sperm I doubt she can be pregnant by you.”

It’s the same shit he’s been spewing to Joey for months, but I haven’t listened because I wanted to trust Jules. We had been together, but I can’t recall when the last time was. I know we had been and I hadn’t been using a condom. That thought alone makes my stomach roll.

“I don’t have a clue who she was with while I was in the house.”

“It wasn’t me. I know you have a hard time believing that Rebekah and I are married, but it’s true. The Rebekah I met isn’t the one you and Joey know. She had purple hair and wanted to party. The best part about her, she didn’t have a fucking clue who I was and that made everything more enticing with her. The one-night stand turned into a weekend and three weeks later she’s telling me that she’s pregnant. She hadn’t left my side so I knew it was mine. We went down to the justice of the peace and got married.”

“Rebekah’s pregnant?”

He shakes his head. “About two weeks before Barry called us, she miscarried and said it was a sign that her wild ways were over. Dyed her hair back to her natural color and started making me go to church.”

“Holy shit, but I’m confused. I thought you told Joey that you met Rebekah at church?”

“I did because I wasn’t about to out our secret on national television. No one knows about the miscarriage and I want to keep it that way. Rebekah knows I’m a sinner. Hell, she was, too, but has been repenting ever since. She thinks it’s her fault she lost the baby even when I tell her that these things happen and we can try again. When it comes down to it, she loves me and I love her, even if we started off backwards. It killed me when she lost the baby, though, and that’s when I woke up. I realized that what we were building was worth something and I didn’t want to lose it.”

I process everything he’s telling me, and as much as I don’t want it to, it does change the way I see him and Rebekah. The last thing I want to be is a friend to Bronx, but I think I’m outvoted by my conscience on this one.

“You know Jules and I had broken up before I met Barry in the bar. I told her I was done with her, but she still came around. I was so stupid to think she was pining away for me. Every time we’d hook-up, she’d insinuate that we were together and I’d blow her off. Jules never took no for an answer.”

“This could easily be a way to get revenge on you.”

“I blew her off for Joey on the day of the finale,” I tell him. He knows how I feel about that day, the one that he ruined. That should’ve been our first night together without cameras following our every move. Instead, I was holed up in a hotel room trying to do everything I could to find her.

I look at the mess on the table and wonder how I could be so fucking stupid to believe her. And I let her into our home, under the assumption that we were going to be parents, and this is how she repays me? By destroying Joey’s wedding dress?

“I’m so fucked.”

“Pretty much. Joey is devastated. I don’t think she cared too much about the dress, but the pictures and knowing that Jules was in her house when she wasn’t home—that killed her.”

“Unless she broke in, she’s never been here unless Joey and I were home. I wouldn’t let her in if Joey weren’t here. I don’t know where these pictures are coming from.” I glance at them and decide to turn them over. I don’t want to see them. I don’t want the reminder that my wife walked out on me because of them.

“Do you know where she is?” I ask again, hoping that he’ll tell me this time.

He shakes his head. “I don’t. I arrived, consoled her, and she left. I decided to stay so you wouldn’t worry about her.”

“Yet I am.”

“I know, but at least you know why she’s not here.” He points to the mess on the table. “I gotta run, Rebekah’s waiting for me at home.” Bronx stands and takes a few steps toward the door.

“I still don’t like you, but thank you.”

“As long as you tolerate me for your wife, I don’t care. Joey means a lot to me and I don’t want to see her hurting.”

“She means everything to me,” I mutter as the front door closes. I lean back and scream until my throat feels raw. Tears fall down the side of my face as I stare at the ceiling. What a fucking mess my life is when it should all be so easy. Joey and I should be figuring out what to eat, instead my house is empty and my wife isn’t home.

Making my way to the bedroom, I head for her closet. Most of her hangers are empty.

“She left me.”

My hand flies through the empty hangers as I swing my arm out at the mass. Some fall to the floor, but others bounce back and snap into my skin leaving a welt. “Fuck,” I scream, pounding my fist into the wall.

I reach for my phone and bring it to life. Both my screensaver and background picture are of her and I keep one screen clear of any icons so I can stare at this picture in particular. I took it the morning after we bought the house. She was just waking up and looked so beautiful. I had to capture the moment.

Pressing the phone icon, I tap on her name. Her phone rings, but goes to voicemail. I know I should leave her a message, but I’m not sure what to say right now. Sorry doesn’t cut it.

Traipsing back into the living room, I gather the pictures and article and set them aside. I’m going to have to ask Jules about all of this, but right now I want to get the mess cleaned up in case she comes home.

When I scoop up what’s remaining of her dress the label catches my eye. I know I can at least fix this for her. I sit down and quickly Google the name on the label. As soon as they answer I tell them who I am and how I need a custom dress for my wife to wear when we renew our vows. The designer’s assistant is all too eager to make sure Joey has the dress of her dreams. Before we hang up I tell her what she’s looking for and when we need it by. I know Joey doesn’t want to do the reality shit with our lives, but I think letting Barry do our wedding is something we need. I want her to be treated like a princess and I can’t do that alone.

My next call is to Barry, letting him know that I’m on board and that Joey will be. I need a week to convince her. When he asks when the wedding is, I tell him seven weeks. He mutters some curse words, but wants the exclusive so I know he’s game. I tell him Hawaii is where we want to get married at sunset. More words follow about lighting and staging, which I ignore. I know he’ll get it done.

As soon as I hang up with him, I call Jules. The sound of her voice is like nails on the chalkboard.

“It’s official,” I tell her.

“What is?”

“You’re the biggest bitch I have ever met and I regret ever being introduced to you.”

“Joshieee,” she whines, dragging my name out.

“No, Jules, you need to listen because I’m only saying this once. This shit you’re pulling stops now. I’m calling my lawyer and having you held for contempt or whatever the fuck it’s called. I want a paternity test done now. I’m also calling the police and having my house dusted for your fingerprints, especially on Joey’s dress. This shit is so fucking childish. You’re an adult, it’s time you grow up and act like one.”

“Josh, I didn’t—”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t do anything. You just admitted it. If you weren’t guilty you would’ve asked what happened, but you already know. I’m done, Jules. If the baby is mine, we’ll share custody, but until I know for certain I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

I hang up before she has a chance to say anything. It’s not going to matter what she says, I don’t believe her. Not anymore.

My final call is to Joey and this time I leave a message, telling her how sorry I am that I ever met Jules and that I promise to make it up to her. I assure her that I’m not cheating, nor have I cheated since the day I kissed her on stage under the lights with the audience watching. By the time I’ve hung up and called back three times, I’m running out of things to say aside from I’m sorry, I’ll fix everything and that I love her. My last words to her are, “We’re doing the production of our wedding if you don’t call me back.” If that doesn’t do the trick I don’t know what will.

F
or three days I avoid him. The phone calls, the text messages, they all went unanswered. I even went as far to deactivate the GPS on my phone so he couldn’t find me. I thought about running, but made it as far as the ocean before I stopped. The beach was calling me and I thought I’d find peace here. For the three days that I ignored Josh, I sat on the beach with my toes in the sand, watching the waves crash into the sand and listening to the seagulls and families around me live life.

When the sun would set and the bonfires would start I stayed in the shadows, remembering a time in my life when this was the norm. The young couples flirting and falling in love—that was me once, and when it went to shit I thought I’d never find it again. I want the laughter, the dancing around, and the kisses by the fire. I want my friends gathered around telling stories of our younger days while our partner holds us. It may seem too simple for some, but for me it’s how I always pictured things would be. I want simple and not hectic, and I suppose being married to Josh Wilson it has to be the latter because his life is crazy.