Hidden Desires (6 page)

She laughed. “Thanks. It’s not easy keeping it this way. Tessa’s not usually allowed in this room, but with another on the way,” she said, tapping her belly, “I think I’m going to be outnumbered soon.” The three made small talk as they sipped the lemonade. Though it was nice seeing Layla, Rachel couldn’t hold back the discomfort of being there. The sight of her in this beautiful home and Travis playfully doting over her daughter brought back those searing pains of remorse. Not only had she never been blessed to grow up in a loving household like Tessa would, she doubted she would ever have the warm, stable life Layla had come to find. She felt like the odd-man-out in a room full of normal, functional people. It was how she always felt when surrounded by friends and their families.

“What is this about Carrie? Has something happened?”

Rachel shook from her thoughts and, once again, looked to Travis for help in answering Layla’s question.

“Well,” Travis started, adjusting in his seat, “Rachel came across Carrie’s diary, and there were things written in it we thought you might be able to shed some light on.”

“Really?” Layla said, turning her eyes to Rachel. “Gosh, it’s been a long time, but I can try.”

“We’re interested in the month between prom and graduation,” Travis went on. “She broke up with me just after prom.”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Did she tell you what brought that on?”

“Well, yes. She didn’t want any attachments. She’d cut off everyone except for me. She wanted to sever all her ties with everyone, to make it easier.”

“To make what easier?” Travis asked.

“Her death, of course.”

Rachel’s heart began to race. She set her lemonade on the table, fearful that the trembling in her hands might cause her to spill some on the spotless carpet. She was unprepared for Layla’s words. She felt the blood drain from her head and she quickly became dizzy.

As if seeing the expression on her face, Layla added, “Oh, Rachel. I don’t want you to think…I mean, I had no idea what she was planning. You have to know that. The way she talked, I thought she was going on a trip. It wasn’t until after that I realized what she’d been talking about.” The room went ice cold, despite the morning sun that cast through the large picture window. Goose bumps flashed over her skin and her chest went tight, making it hard to breathe. Though Rachel was quickly unraveling, Travis kept his professional calm, probing Layla’s memory in between the occasional Cheerio.

“Let’s assume for a moment she really was planning a trip. Do you remember anything specific she said about it?”

“She wouldn’t say. It was a big secret. She was leaving. She didn’t want to have anyone left behind after she was gone. That’s why she broke up with you. She’d stopped seeing all her other friends as well. I was the only one she confided in, but even then, she wouldn’t tell me any specifics.” Pain creased her features. “Of course, after…I realized why.”

“So you think she was planning suicide all along?”

“Well, of course. It all fits, doesn’t it?”

Rachel opened her mouth to object. She knew Carrie wasn’t planning suicide, but Travis held up a hand and continued.

“In her diary, she talks about a man with the initials of BF. This man led her to believe he would take her somewhere. Does that ring any bells?”

Layla’s eyes went wide. “You don’t think she was planning suicide?”

“Not from what we saw in the diary.”

She sank back in the chair and placed a hand on her chest. Her eyes welled with tears. “Oh, I never wanted to believe it. I’ve always felt I should have known. I should have done something.” She rose and left the room, returning moments later with a tissue she used to dab her tears.

“Do you recall any man with the initials BF? We think she made contact with him the weekend of the prom. Maybe someone at the prom?”

“Well, you were there with her. She didn’t talk to anyone outside the regular crowd, I’m almost sure of it. I mean, you know Carrie. It took her a while to open up to people. I think I would have noticed if she had been talking to someone we didn’t know.”

Layla sat for a moment in silence before continuing. “I don’t remember anything about a man. She just said she’d come up with a plan. She was leaving for good. She even gave me a few of her things to remember her by. That cashmere sweater I always loved.” She chuckled fondly. “I still have it, though it’s been years since it fit. I can’t bring myself to give it away.” She paused for another moment and shook her head. “I don’t remember her talking about a man at all.

She wouldn’t say where she was going. She didn’t want anyone knowing. Once she left, she didn’t want anyone to be able to find her, especially her mother. She was adamant about making sure her mother never found out.”

Travis gave Layla a moment to think of anything else, and when she couldn’t, he set Tessa on the ground and rose from the couch, prompting the little girl to hold up her hands. Obliging her unspoken request, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek, resulting in another cheery squeal.

“She likes men,” Layla explained, taking the girl from his arms.

He pulled out his card and handed it to her, then gave her a light peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Layla. It was nice seeing you again. If you think of anything else, please call me.” Rachel rose on wobbly legs, and Layla moved to give her a hug. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m just a little dizzy. I haven’t eaten today,” she lied.

The three said their goodbyes before Travis and Rachel made their way back to town.

“Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get much from that trip,” Travis said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them the moment he’d pulled from the driveway.

“Tell me about your wife. What was Layla talking about?”

For a long time, Travis didn’t say anything, and Rachel began to think he wasn’t going to answer. His delay surged more questions through her brain, leaving her more befuddled than she was before.

“My wife was murdered,” he finally said in a voice devoid of any emotion.

Without thinking, Rachel placed her hand on his thigh. “Oh, Travis. I’m sorry.”

“It was years ago.”

Rachel grew sick with remorse. Ever since she’d run into Travis, she’d thought of no one but herself.

She’d been so wrapped up in hatred and self-pity, it never occurred to her that other people had problems besides herself. She suddenly wished she could take back every nasty thought, every biting word, every thoughtless accusation she’d directed toward Travis.

“I haven’t been very kind to you,” she murmured, her words choked with regret.

Her thoughts went back to Layla’s house, the easy affection he’d had for her child. He must have had dreams of being a father some day, dreams that were shattered by the death of his wife. He’d reached out to her. He’d kissed her. And she’d reacted as though he were some sex-driven creep, when maybe, just maybe, his intentions were sincere.

She silently sighed, wondering when she would ever get over herself and start giving people the benefit of doubt.

“I understand your situation,” he said quietly.

Of course, he did. Travis was a virtual well of understanding, yet she couldn’t provide him so much as a drop in return. And, for the first time, she realized just how high a wall she’d built around her heart. It was a wall so high she couldn’t see the difference between a jerk and a man worthy of her appreciation.

She felt her hand clasp tightly to his thigh, prompting him to glance down to her touch. Realizing what she had done, she snatched it away and tucked it around her waist.

“I don’t know what to say. Can you tell me about it?”

He spoke of the incident as if he were simply a detective talking about a case. “It was a robbery. My wife was trained in self-defense. She fought back and was shot.” A heavy lump formed in her throat. She knew the feeling of losing someone so close. Though Carrie had taken her own life, given their circumstances, and the entries in her diary, she’d always felt that, in reality, someone had murdered her. Rachel knew the anger, the sense of helplessness, the deep regret one feels when they lose someone. She also knew there were really no words of comfort anyone could provide to make it all go away.

“How long were you married?”

“Just over a year.”

“When did it happen?”

“It’s been a couple years now.”

Travis answered her questions without so much as flinching or moving his eyes from the road. She saw no signs of sadness or anger, just cold, distant words.

Rachel knew exactly what that meant. She knew about pain so severe, the only way to move on was to distance yourself completely. To act as though it was just a dream, a part of life that never really existed.

But, just like Travis, she knew underneath that rigid exterior, the pain was still there, ripe and ready to emerge when you least expected it.

She wondered how many times Travis had risen in the morning, bright, happy, looking for his wife, before the memory crashed back and reality sank in. She wondered how many times he’d seen someone who reminded him of her, how often he’d had that fleeting thought that his wife wasn’t gone, and he’d just found her. Until the stranger turned and he’d discovered it hadn’t been his wife after all.

She knew it. She knew all those feelings. And even though Carrie had been dead for more than a decade, they still returned on occasion as a reminder that there were some things people never truly get over.

She clasped her hand tightly around her waist, and somewhere in the distance of her thoughts, she heard herself ask, “Are you still angry with her?”

The mortified look on his face told her she’d just stepped in a place she shouldn’t have gone. His cold, level expression peeled away, unveiling raw pain and unbridled shock.

“Why would I be angry with my wife?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

With a sudden jerk, he veered to the curb and slammed on the brakes. If the seatbelt hadn’t been latched, she would have gone flying headfirst into the dash.

His face had turned red with rage. His fingers had whitened in a tight grasp on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know why you said that either. My wife didn’t kill herself.” His words were coming out in ragged breaths. “I’m angry with the slime who killed her. My wife was an innocent victim.” In a quick snap, he unfastened his seat belt and bolted from the car, leaving Rachel alone, wishing she could take the words back, and uncertain as to what she should do now that she’d said them.

Travis needed air. He needed a brisk walk. He needed to get away from Rachel. And stuck in the middle of nowhere, his only option was to walk a straight path down the street.

How she did it, he had no idea. He’d come to terms with his wife’s death. He was able to talk about her, able to talk about the incident, able to move on. At least, that’s what he’d thought before Rachel made that statement.

In one simple phrase, one casual, innocent question, she’d managed to coil her way into the darkest corner of his heart and pull out the one spade he’d never been able to face.

Because really, if he dared to delve deep, he had to admit, he was truly angry with his wife.

Jess should have known better. She shouldn’t have tried to fight men with guns. She was a cop’s wife, for Christ’s sake, and a side of him always felt that twinge of ire that she could have prevented her own death. But it was a feeling so painful, so troublesome to his wellbeing, he could never bring himself to face it.

Until Rachel reached in and yanked it out.

He walked faster, turning a corner to get her out of sight.

Damn her.

Damn everything about her.

He didn’t need this. He didn’t need her problems or her flippant, side-winding emotions. The ones that sucked him to her like a magnet then shot him apart like a grenade. He didn’t need her taunting his desire with those thin, lacy bras and hip curving sweaters, then shattering him with those off-handed comments and icy cold responses.

Rachel Foster was insane. Why hadn’t he seen it before? And why, even now, did the thought of walking away from her leave his gut sick with regret?

He stopped in his tracks, realizing that he’d just walked at least three blocks and had left Rachel alone in the car, in a strange neighborhood he knew nothing about.

But he wasn’t ready to go back. He had no idea how he was going to explain his sudden departure, or what he was going to do with Rachel.

He needed a moment to regroup, and walking farther away wasn’t going to do him any good. He noticed a small cafe a few paces up and stepped over, taking one of the chairs. He needed to calm down. It was an innocent comment, one that shouldn’t have sent him reeling like he had.

But it did.

He took several deep breaths, trying to calm the fury, confusion, and desire that mixed like poison in his blood. He tried to sort out his thoughts, knowing that, in moments, he needed to head back to the car before she took off, leaving him frantic to find her.

He couldn’t let her do that, and a side of him knew that’s exactly what she’d do if he didn’t get back soon. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get a grip on his state and sort out his thoughts, when he heard the voice above him.

“I’m sorry, Travis. Please don’t be angry with me.”

He looked up to see those sweet green eyes welled with tears. Her hair sparkled like spun gold in the afternoon sun, casting a halo around her head. The fresh scent of lavender circled around him, encasing him in a fog of desire that somehow managed to calm his anger and confusion. He glanced away, feeling suddenly drained by the storm of rage that had just swept through him.

“Look,” she said. “You got your answer from Layla. You know why Carrie broke up with you. It wasn’t anything you did. You don’t need to go any further with this.” He heard the words, but they didn’t register. Holding his gaze on the storefront across the street, he asked, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“How do you get over the anger when you know it wasn’t their fault?” He heard her sigh as she lowered to the seat next to him. Quietly, she began, “You acknowledge it.