Betrayal

Chapter 58: THE END

Ali

It's late in the afternoon.

I make slow movements with my fingers, tracing the muscles on his back with my nails, gently touching him. He's passed out, sleeping next to me. He likes when I do this. It comforts him. I do it when he's awake and when he's sleeping.

He worked an overnight shift, helping in the ER, and didn't get home until early this morning. He was exhausted and showered, then went right to bed. I went back to sleep with him, but I've been up for hours. I've been painting orders, sent out some that were due to be sent, went grocery shopping, and some other errands.

His alarm goes off and he groans softly, stirs, and raises up the slightest bit. When he brings his hand down against it roughly I jump. It stops. He buries his face into one of the pillows. I hesitate to try to keep him awake. He's supposed to go to a family therapy session today with Ella and Rebecca. They started them two weeks ago. Twice a week, on Tuesday's and Thursday's.

He rolls over and takes a slow breath, then looks up at me. I smile, lean down, and kiss his forehead. He touches my face, then kisses me softly on the lips.

"I should get dressed," he mutters. "I'm exhausted."

"I know. We can just relax tonight."

He nods, then smiles.

"That sounds nice."

"I'll try to cook."

As his smile grows I smile, too. I'm a lousy cook. He's much better than me.

"Or we can do takeout?"

"Takeout, definitely."

I shove him easily and he wraps his arms around me, pulls me down to him, and nestles his face into my chest.

"I should be done by six."

"Okay. I'll be here. I've got some more orders to start on."

He nods, then climbs out of bed. I watch as he gets dressed. It's warm out today and he wears jeans and a t shirt with tennis shoes. I'm so used to him being in a suit but I like this too. Even casual he looks unbelievably handsome.

I walk him to the door. We kiss, I hold onto him, and he hugs me back. He's going to be despondent when he comes back. That's how it's been after each session. He's tired, beat, and worn down. But it's good for him, I think. To talk with the two of them and a therapist and dissect their feelings together. It hurts me that he's hurting so badly. I can't stand it. I wish I could help him more than I can.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispers. "I'll be back soon."

I kiss him again, then watch as he leaves. After a moment I uncover my easel. I've been working on a painting for him of Wyatt. One of his favorite pictures of him from when he was a baby. It's going to be a surprise, but I'm going to wait to give it to him until more time has passed. Maybe for Christmas as a gift.

...

I haven't heard from him. It's almost nine o'clock. I've become increasingly worried. My first thought is that he's probably at a bar, drinking. He's been drinking a lot more lately and he's smoking again. I know it's his way of trying to cope. It makes my stomach hurt and brings on a great deal of anxiety.

I've messaged and called him, but they've gone unanswered. It takes me some time to decide to go to the brownstone. He may have went back there to spend time with Ella and Rebecca. I just need to know he's alright.

I take the subway. It's dark out and I make the walk from the station to Gramercy Park, careful not to be seen. It makes me feel like a stalker, but I know my intentions are good.