Eight Weeks Later: A Novel by G.T. London

Author:G.T. London [London, G.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mavitae Publishing
Published: 2024-03-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Isplash water on my face and groan. What a terrible hangover. I stayed up too late and might have had one or two more beers than usual. I’m lying on the couch when the door swings open after a loud knock. Amy barges in, her brows knitted together.

I sit up and scowl at her.

“What’s up? I’ve been calling all morning. I got your voicemail message. Why did you want to cancel? And why were you acting weird last night?” She sits beside me and places a comforting hand on my knee. The warmth of her touch jolts my nerves. I need to start locking my door.

“Stop all that,” I say, as I push her hand away. My head throbs at the sight of her. “I just got up.”

“I can see that. I dropped Sean off at school, and I wanted to come over immediately after, but I had to take a group on a snorkeling tour.”

I rub my forehead. “This is messed up.”

Her face takes on a puzzled expression. Her eyes are filled with worry.

“That dinner was one of the most painful evenings of my life,” I say, rubbing my face. “If it weren’t for Sean, I swear . . .”

“What are you talking about?” She tilts her head, and I turn away. I can’t bear to look her in the eyes.

“Do you know how hard it was to pretend that everything was fine, to smile and laugh just for the sake of Sean? What sort of a mother are you?”

“Hey, don’t bring my mothering into this!”

“Then talk!” I bark. My heart races. Is this really happening?

She swallows hard before responding. “Talk about what?” A single vein on her forehead is pulsing.

“Who are you, Amy?”

“I don’t like your tone. You already know damn well who I am.” Her eyes narrow.

“Why are you helping my neighbor, Phil?”

“Uh . . . Hmm.” Her shoulders slump. “That.”

“You’re not even trying to deny it.”

“I can explain.”

“Explain what a deceitful person you are?”

“Again, stop with that tone, and please,” she begs, “let me explain.”

“Just leave. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not like this.” She gives a little shake of her head, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

“I’m begging you, Amy, I can’t take this. My head feels like it’s exploding. Please leave.”

“I started to help him,” she says, her voice trembling, “but⁠—”

“But what, Amy? Was everything we had part of an act?” I look away from her again to avoid seeing her tears.

“Things changed. I was going to come clean, but I couldn’t . . . I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“Here’s my reaction. Happy?” I open my arms, palms up.

“You know, sometimes you make mistakes. Sometimes it’s impossible to do the right thing. Sometimes you have to do whatever it takes to . . .” She trails off.

“Whatever it takes to what? Tell me! Whatever it takes to what?” I shout, but when I turn around, she’s already stepping out of the door. And out of my life.

I think of Sean, and my intense fury transforms into a heaviness.

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