"My Husband Swore He Never Touched Me. Then Who Got Me Pregnant?" Chapter 7 — Help Me Forget My Husband
Chapter 7 — Help Me Forget My Husband
“Nathaniel.”
The name came from behind them.
Evelyn felt the arms around her tighten.
She lifted her head.
“Who are you talking to?”
Julian approached.
“I’m telling someone where to bring the car.”
“Who?”
“Evelyn, you’re cold. Let’s get you somewhere warm.”
She turned toward the man holding her.
“Luke?”
“I’m here.”
She touched his face.
He let her fingers move across his cheek, his jaw, the small hollow beside his mouth.
Then he bowed his head against hers.
“Ask me again when you’re safe,” he whispered.
Evelyn stopped moving.
There were things she could have said.
Instead, she lowered her face to his shoulder.
“Take me out of here.”
At the hospital, she refused to let Julian examine her alone.
“I want a woman in the room.”
A nurse came.
“I want everything written down.”
“We’re documenting your injuries,” the nurse said.
“And what they gave me.”
“Yes.”
“And I want my lawyer called.”
Luke handed her a phone.
Claire answered on the second ring.
Evelyn explained where she was.
Her voice shook, but she got through it.
When she finished, Claire said, “I’m coming.”
Evelyn held the phone against her chest.
Luke was sitting beside the bed.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
She turned toward him.
“Were you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“While you were looking?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn rubbed her thumb over the edge of the phone.
“Then next time, remember that when you disappear without telling me.”
He took a breath.
“There won’t be a next time.”
“You can’t promise that. You can promise to call.”
“All right.”
She put the phone down.
“Promise that.”
“I promise to call.”
She left the hospital for a small apartment Claire had helped arrange.
Rosa stocked the kitchen.
The security consultant Nathaniel paid for was allowed to inspect the locks, but Evelyn made Claire speak to him first.
“No cameras inside,” she said. “Nobody gets a key without my permission.”
Luke stood beside her while she gave the instructions.
He did not interrupt.
When the consultant asked whether Mr. Cross would need access, Evelyn said, “No.”
Something shifted beside her.
She heard Luke’s hand slide into his pocket.
The consultant left.
Evelyn faced him.
“Does that upset you?”
“No.”
“You took a long time to answer.”
“I was thinking.”
“About what?”
He moved toward the kitchen.
“Tea?”
She laughed without humor.
“You’re terrible at changing the subject.”
“I know.”
She followed him, counting the short distance between the sofa and the counter.
It was her apartment.
She would learn it.
Luke stayed on the sofa the first night.
The second night, Evelyn woke with a cry caught in her throat.
She called him before she could stop herself.
He came to the bedroom doorway.
“I’m here.”
“Come closer.”
He sat on the floor beside the bed.
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Evelyn reached down and found his shoulder.
“Were you asleep?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
She rested her forehead against her knees.
“I keep hearing the door lock.”
“The bedroom door is open.”
“I know.”
“I can turn on the radio.”
“No. Just talk.”
“About what?”
She considered.
“Something ordinary.”
He told her that Rosa had bought three different kinds of cereal because she had forgotten which one Evelyn liked.
He told her that the kettle had a loose lid.
He told her that he had spent ten minutes searching for a spoon she had put in a mug.
“That’s where I keep it,” Evelyn said.
“I learned that.”
His hand rested near hers on the mattress.
She touched it.
By the time he finished describing an argument between two pigeons on the balcony, she was breathing normally.
“You can get a chair,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re on the floor.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She moved toward the other side of the bed.
“You can lie here. On top of the blanket.”
He did not answer.
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“I want to.”
The words came too quickly.
Evelyn waited while he took off his shoes.
When he lay beside her, she put a pillow between them.
He laughed softly.
“A border?”
“A reminder.”
“I’ll remember.”
For several days, he did.
He let her walk to the bathroom without following.
He asked before taking her hand outside.
When she wanted to cook, he described the stove controls and stayed close enough to help without taking over.
She burned the first piece of toast.
The second was edible.
She made him eat half.
“You’re very proud of this,” he said.
“I fed myself.”
He went quiet.
She lifted her chin.
“That matters.”
“I know it does.”
Later, while washing a plate, she heard him answer a call in the next room.
His voice was sharper.
“No. I said she wasn’t to be contacted.”
Evelyn stopped moving.
The call ended.
He returned to the kitchen.
“Who was that?”
“Someone who needed an answer.”
“Did you give them one?”
“Yes.”
“You sound like him when you do that.”
The plate slipped against the side of the sink.
Luke took a step forward.
She steadied it herself.
“Like whom?”
“You know.”
He said nothing.
Evelyn dried her hands.
“Nathaniel used to answer questions that way. As if explaining himself would make him smaller.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel small.”
“Then don’t leave me standing outside your life while you keep walking through mine.”
He moved closer.
She could feel the heat of him.
“I don’t know how to tell you everything.”
“Start with something true.”
His breath caught.
“I love you.”
Evelyn stood very still.
He did not reach for her.
“I shouldn’t have said it like that,” he continued. “You asked a different question.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
She turned toward him.
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“Don’t take it back.”
“I’m not.”
That evening, Evelyn asked him to sit beside her on the balcony.
She could hear rain on the street below.
“I loved my husband for most of my life,” she said.
Luke’s chair creaked.
“I know.”
“I built an entire future around him. Every time something went wrong, I thought I could fix it by loving him better.”
“You didn’t need to—”
“Let me finish.”
He stopped.
“When he wouldn’t come home, I made the house nicer. When he wouldn’t speak to me, I tried to ask better questions. When he said I was lying, I thought finding the right words would make him believe me.”
She folded her hands.
“I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Luke was silent.
“I don’t want every good thing in my life to be measured against him.”
“What do you want?”
She turned toward his voice.
“You. Here. Without secrets that leave me feeling stupid afterward.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Evelyn—”
“Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
She gave a small, bitter smile.
“It’s funny. I would have accepted that from him once.”
His hand closed over the arm of the chair.
She heard the faint knock of his ring against the metal.
“Do you still love him?”
The question came quietly.
Evelyn considered it long enough to let him hear the silence.
“I don’t want him to own another year of my life.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“It’s the answer I have.”
She reached across the space between them.
He met her halfway.
“Help me forget him,” she said.
His fingers tightened.
“Tell me what that means.”
“It means I want to make a memory that doesn’t end with me waiting for him.”
She kissed Luke in her bedroom.
He waited until she found his face, then bent toward her.
The kiss was gentle.
Evelyn pulled back.
“Don’t do this because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t.”
“Don’t do it because you think saving me bought you something.”
“It didn’t.”
She rested her palm against his chest.
Beneath the shirt, her fingers encountered a ridge of scar tissue.
He went rigid.
She did not ask about it.
“Stay,” she said.
He caught her wrist, then immediately loosened his grip.
“You can change your mind.”
“So can you.”
His forehead touched hers.
For a moment, he seemed unable to move.
Then he kissed her again.
This time, she felt how much effort it cost him to remain gentle.
Two weeks later, Evelyn met with the eye specialist.
She asked questions until the appointment ran over.
What might improve.
What might not.
What she would need afterward.
Luke sat beside her.
When the doctor asked whether she wanted time to consider, Evelyn said, “I’ve had enough time in the dark.”
That night, she put her hand over Luke’s.
“When they take the bandages off, I want you there.”
He did not answer.
“Luke?”
“I heard you.”
“I want the first person I choose to look at to be you.”
His hand trembled beneath hers.
“What if I disappoint you?”
She turned toward him.
“Then let me be disappointed by the truth.”
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