The Breaking Point (32 page)

I
want to be a child again …

Tears, quick and hot, pricked at her eyes, and she closed her lids against them. She didn’t want to cry. She was tired of crying. Her eyes were so swollen now that they ached until she wanted to
scream against the pain. Ached with such intensity that she was sure it would never stop. The pain would never stop. It would just keep growing until it owned her, until it invaded every bone in her body.

Just as it had invaded her heart.

One fisted hand rose to rub at Renee’s throbbing eyes, and she pressed her knuckles hard, as though she could erase the gritty discomfort, the sensation of a handful of sand behind her lids. But she couldn’t. It was still there, mocking her, choking her, reminding her over and over that she’d failed—

I’ve failed?

The rise of anger within her was a tide of heat and anguish; a swirling tempest that took hold of her and shook her. With a surge of sudden energy she launched herself from the chair, casting off the blanket that had mere moments ago offered such solace. Now it was a chain holding her down.

I’ve failed?
She paced, hands clenching and releasing at her sides, as the words screamed in her mind.
I haven’t failed! Gabe broke his vows, not me! He’s the one who let someone else in.

Like a dying moth drawn to the flame that was its downfall, she walked back to the table, back to the crumpled note lying there.

The note she’d found in Gabe’s pocket when she was doing the laundry.

My life is such a cliché.

Usually Gabe did his own laundry, but Renee had wanted to do something nice for him, something to let him know she was thinking of him. A surprise.

She gave a broken laugh. Looked like the real surprise was hers. She smoothed the wrinkles from the white page and read those words again.

“Your friendship has meant so much … I’ve found myself wishing … things were different … When I touched you … I saw the same longing I felt … I care about you …”

And then the worst of all:
“I love you”
She closed her eyes, but they stayed there, dancing on the backs of her eyelids, taunting her.

I love you … I love you … I love you …

Bile rose in her throat, and she choked back the acrid taste.

He let another woman into his heart.

Wasn’t it bad enough that he’d cheated her out of children? How could he have done this to her? How far had it gone? Had he slept with this woman? Had he given her
everything?
Everything he’d been holding back from Renee?

Images flooded her mind, and though she had no idea what this woman looked like, her imagination had little trouble filling in the blanks, crafting a graphic portrayal of her husband surrendering his heart, his dreams, his love to another—

“God!”

The cry for help echoed around her. She barely made it to the kitchen sink before her stomach surged. Violent spasms racked her body until she was spent. Empty. Void of anything. Any feeling. Any dreams.

Hope was a thing of the past, a fragile creature hunted down to extinction by willfulness and pride.

Renee turned on the faucet and rinsed her mouth, gulping down the cold, clear water. Then, as though she could no longer bear the weight of her anguish, she sank to the floor.

She pulled her knees up and pressed her face into them. If only she could curl up into a tiny ball, curl up nice and tight so that she never had to open up again.

But she couldn’t get away that easily. There was no easy escape from the ugly reality that was her marriage. Her life. She’d have to deal with it. Soon.

But not now.
For now, she was just going to sit here, not thinking, not feeling.
I just need to rest…

She let her eyes flutter shut and, with a shuddering sigh, surrendered to the comforting shroud of numbness settling over her.

When Renee opened her eyes, she neither knew nor cared how much time had passed. She turned her head, her cheek resting on her knees, and let her gaze roam the darkened room, almost without interest, until it collided with a shadowed form in the doorway.

Shock jolted through her even as Gabe’s low voice broke the stillness.

“It’s okay, Rennie. It’s me.”

Relief washed over her, relaxing her fear-tightened muscles—but only for a heartbeat, only for the time it took for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. That was when she saw he was holding the note. And in one scalding moment Renee knew she wasn’t empty after all. Yes, hope was gone. But something had come to replace it. Something wild and surging and heady. Something so potent it left her light-headed.

Hatred.

She realized, in the back of her awareness, that it had flickered to life when she read the words that woman had written. But now—looking at the man she’d trusted, the man she’d loved, the man who had thrown her and his vows aside—it blazed into pure, consuming energy.

She rose with forced control, then reached out to flick on the lights. Gabe stood there, the white sheet of paper clutched in his hand. She allowed herself one look into his eyes—and what she saw there told her more clearly than any words just how far things had gone.

“Rennie, I—”

She raised her hand, cutting him off. “Don’t.” Her voice came out low, raw.

“But—”

She gave one shake of her head—an abrupt, barely controlled motion—but apparently it was enough. Gabe fell silent.

It took all her focus, all her effort, to keep her breathing even, to keep some vestige of rein on the violence that raged through her, begging to be vented.

She wanted to kill him.

The thought should have at least troubled her, but it didn’t. Instead, it left her feeling energized, empowered, almost intoxicated. She should be standing here broken and desperate, weeping for all she’d lost, all he’d given away. But she didn’t feel like crying.

“Get out.”

“Renee …”

She heard the raw entreaty, the depth of emotion in the one word, and steeled herself against it. She looked him right in the eye, let her contempt show in all its fullness.

“Get … out.”

Something flickered in his eyes, and Renee felt a jolt of awareness. Right there in front of her, in those blue depths that she used to love to study, she was seeing the death of hope.

Gabe turned and left the kitchen. She listened to his footsteps as words clambered through her.
Stop! Wait! I didn’t mean it! We need to talk this out!

But her voice wouldn’t cooperate. It stayed stuck in her throat, so that the only sound in the dark apartment was the quiet click as Gabe walked out the door.

J
UNE
26, 1992

GRACE INHALED THE FRAGRANCE OF FRESHLY BREWED
coffee and sighed.

Was anything more wonderful in the morning than sitting on the porch, watching the day emerge while you sipped coffee from your favorite mug?

She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the porch railing, not even caring that she sounded like some kind of sappy coffee commercial.
This
was living, and she planned to enjoy it to—how did that go? Ah, yes—to the last drop.

Her satisfaction ebbed a bit when the phone jangled to life, and she seriously considered just letting it ring. After all, this was her time. Her quiet time. Why surrender that simply because the phone rang?

She shifted in her chair when the second ring came, frowning
at the odd sense of urgency stirring inside her. “Go … away,” she muttered, though she couldn’t say if she was talking to the phone or to the feeling.

At the third ring, she clamped her jaw. Why should she answer? It was probably just some salesman bent on convincing her she couldn’t live without whatever doodad he was hawking.

So why did she feel as though she’d explode if she didn’t get up this instant and answer the darned thing?

On the fourth ring, she couldn’t take it any longer. Shoving her chair back, she dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

Heart pounding, she listened to the ensuing silence. Had the caller hung up? Was she too late for … for …

She frowned. For
what?
What could be so important about answering this—

“Grace?”

Though the voice was ragged and rough, though it didn’t bear any resemblance to any voices Grace knew, instant awareness flooded her. “Renee?”

“Grace, I … I … it’s over.”

Deep concern hit Grace at the anguish flowing through the phone lines. She drew in a slow, steadying breath as her mind skipped past wondering what on earth could have happened to realizing it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, her friend was in trouble.

“Renee, where are you?”

Silence, as though she wasn’t sure. “Home,” she said at last. “I’m at home.”

The words were empty, bleak, and a spark of panic shot through Grace. “Listen, don’t move. Don’t do anything.”
Please, God, don’t let her do anything.
“I’m leaving right now I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

This time the silence stretched on for what seemed an eternity. It took all of Grace’s control to keep her voice soft
and soothing, to hold back the rising alarm and keep it from escaping into her words. “Renee, did you hear me?”

“Yes.” One word, so empty and emotionless it sent a chill racing through Grace.

“You’ll wait for me?” Grace couldn’t explain why, but she was sure Renee understood the question within the question.
Don’t go anywhere, Renee. And don’t
do
anything.

“Yes.” One word again, as though that was all Renee could manage. But that was enough.

“I’ll be right there.”

As she hung up and grabbed her keys, Grace prayed for green lights all the way. Either that, or an absence of police … because not even red lights would keep her from getting to Renee as fast as humanly possible.

It was dark. Black. The color of death.

Perfect. The perfect color for him. For his heart and spirit. Wasn’t that what he was? Death. Death to any good he’d known in life. Any hope. Any joy. Any love.

Death to the one thing that mattered most in his world. The one thing he’d thrown away, and for what?

For nothing.

Gabe knew that now. Sitting here in his car with no place to go, he knew that what he’d told himself he might find with Jennifer was nothing. Less than nothing. A lie. His lie. Because Jennifer had seen him for what he was and walked away. She was clean.

It was Gabe who had wallowed in filth. He’d convinced himself that his friendship with Jennifer was more—even that it could be everything. But now, here in the darkness, he knew the truth.

He’d had everything. Everything he ever wanted. In Renee. In their life together. And he’d given it away.

You didn’t do anything!

The defense rang hollow. No, he hadn’t done anything. But he’d thought about it. He wanted it. Would have acted on it if God hadn’t pulled him up short.

Gabe gripped the steering wheel and leaned his forehead on his hands. What a fool he had been. He’d been so proud of himself for walking the straight and narrow with Jennifer, but all the while his heart was digging around in the murky depths of his soul, dredging up one perfectly formed excuse after another to justify doing what he wanted.

God, why didn’t You just strike me dead? Why didn’t You stop me?

He knew the answer. It screamed at him in the heavy silence: God had tried. Gabe knew those quiet inner warnings were the still, small voice of a mighty God seeking to keep him from destroying himself.

Pity Gabe didn’t listen.

“Jesus …”

The ragged word hung in the silence, a desperate plea for mercy in the face of devastating truth. Regret moved through Gabe, taking up residence deep within him, an uninvited guest settling in for the long haul.

Jesus, that’s all it was, wasn’t it? The way I felt about Jennifer.
It wasn’t about being cared for or respected; it wasn’t about being visible or invisible. It wasn’t any of the things he’d told himself.

It was just about doing what he wanted. Like some kind of two-year-old pitching a fit against the rules that kept him safe.

Well, he’d done it. Done exactly what he wanted. And look what it got him.