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She smacks her hands on my chest. "Say something, dammit, I'm begging you. Talk to me."
No, I can't do that. I must see this through to the end, by not saying a bloody word.
Her lips quiver, and her hands tremble. "I can't do this anymore."
My fingers bend into my palms. "You're leaving."
"I don't want to leave, but we can't go on like this. I need time to think. Time away from you."
A strange sort of anguished relief rushes through me, and my knees almost buckle. I take one step backward. "Leave, then."
Emery wraps her arms around herself. "If that's all you have to say… You've left me no choice, Rory. I'm sorry."
She trudges toward the doorway, her shoes scuffing across the wood floor.
"Where will you go?" I ask.
"I don't know. A hotel, I guess."
The clock ticks five times.
And then my wife walks out of the room, never looking back.
For a minute or more, I can't move. Though I wanted her to leave me, now that she's actually going, I need to make sure she will be taken care of by someone who will treat her like family. Her parents and sister have gone home. She has no one here, no one except my family. I make arrangements for her, performing the task like an automaton. Robot Rory. Emery was right to call me that.
I slog up the stairs and find her in our bedroom.
She startles when I enter the room, frozen in the middle of packing her suitcase.
"I called Lachlan," I tell her. "He and Erica have offered to let you stay with them."
She drops a half-folded shirt into the suitcase. "Thank you."
Her voice sounds as lifeless as mine. Christ, I never wanted to hurt her. I had no choice.
"Tavish will drive you," I say.
"Don't bother him. I can drive myself, unless you're taking back my wedding present."
My jaw clenches. "Tavish will drive you."
She doesn't argue anymore.
Ten minutes later, I stand in the driveway and watch the Mercedes disappear into the darkness of the forest. Then I shuffle back into the house, aimlessly wandering until I find myself back in the sitting room. The papers that comprise the marriage contract lie scattered on the floor. I kneel to collect the pages and carefully put them in numerical order.
She's gone.
I rise and start toward the chair I'd sat in earlier, but I stumble and pitch sideways, grabbing the arm for support. It holds me up for a second, but then my legs give out, and I crash onto the floor with my back against the chair. Gooseflesh prickles my skin, and the wave of cold that triggered it penetrates every cell in my body and straight down to my soul.
The papers slip out of my grasp, fanning out across the floor.
Emery is gone.
I shut my eyes and try to pull in a breath, but only manage to gasp a few times. My throat has constricted. My eyes burn. She hasn't gone far, only to Lachlan and Erica's home near Ballachulish, but I know this is the end. I'd wanted this, hadn't I? To spare her from a life of misery with me by chasing her away. Now that I've done it, though, I keep hearing four words in my mind, over and over, echoing deep inside me.
What have I done?
