Twisted Alibis by VM Rheault

Author:VM Rheault [Rheault, VM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Coffee & Kisses Press
Published: 2023-08-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Olivia

I eat dinner alone, sitting at the breakfast bar with my laptop and the backend of my website staring me in the face. I pan fried chicken with mushrooms and I cubed red potatoes and baked them with salt and pepper, and after I pulled them out of the oven, slathered them with butter. Between bites, I sip a crisp white I found in Sheppard’s wine drawer. I’m not drinking to get drunk, just to take the edge off a little. It’s not even about what Sheppard did to me upstairs, but this blog, this career, this life.

I don’t plan on leaving, despite threatening him with it. If I left, if I ordered a car and packed my bags, it would destroy him, and when he comes around, I need to explain that in a way he truly understands. When people do things, there are consequences, others left behind, people who suffer.

I clean up my dishes, store the leftovers in the fridge, and text Gina. I apologize for the inconvenience. I shouldn’t meet with her tomorrow when Sheppard is feeling this way. She understands, giving me the time and date of the lunch she invited me to and offering me a ride if I can get away.

The bar in the living room is stocked, and if I feel a twinge pouring all his booze down the kitchen sink, it doesn’t last long. He can afford to replace it, but I hope he never does. I do a little more straightening up, and later, Scout comes downstairs, her tail tucked between her legs. She feels like she’s abandoning him, having to go outside to pee, but I murmur she’s okay, and after she goes, it bolsters her spirits enough to have a bite to eat before trotting back up the stairs to resume her vigil.

I never swept in the hidden living room, and I do that now and shove the blanket Sheppard used to cover us into the wash. There’s a bar in here, too, and I empty it.

It’s almost midnight by the time I head to bed. Even if we talked mostly about Sheppard’s issues, problems, roadblocks, however you want to label them, it’s still draining. Like the woman I made friends with, when you care about someone, their troubles can weigh so much heavier on you.

I fall into an uneasy sleep, wondering what I’ll find in the morning, but I don’t have to wait that long. At 2 AM, a sob so gut-wrenching I almost wet the bed screams from Sheppard’s room. I sit up, my heart pounding. I was waiting for this to come. For the time when Sheppard was finally so broken he could be put back together. A turning point, and now he can finally start healing.

Tentatively, I pad into his bedroom. He’s crying so hard I think the neighbors might call the police. Scout’s not scared. She’s heard this level of grief before—from me. I sit on the edge of the bed prepared for retaliation.

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