My cheek felt like it was on fire, and my ears were ringing so loudly that I could hardly hear my own ragged breathing. I stared at him in complete shock while he looked down at his own hand as if he could not comprehend what he had just done.
Instead of offering an apology or reaching out to help me up, he simply shook his head and muttered that I had forced him to react that way. I did not say another word to him as I gathered my things and retreated to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.
I locked the door and pressed a bag of frozen peas against my swelling face while I listened to him pacing back and forth in the hallway. Eventually, the house fell silent as he went back to our bed and fell asleep as if nothing significant had happened.
I stopped crying around two in the morning, and by three, I was sitting at the small desk with a notebook and a very specific plan. When the sun began to rise over the trees in Silver Creek, I picked up my phone and made a call to the one person Garrett never expected to hear from.
By eight o’clock the next morning, the kitchen was filled with the rich and savory aroma of a gourmet breakfast. I was standing at the stove searing steaks in garlic butter and tossing rosemary potatoes in a heavy iron skillet.
Garrett walked into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and he looked remarkably smug as he took in the sight of his favorite meal. He let out a short laugh and asked if I had finally realized that I was the one in the wrong the night before.
He walked toward the dining table with the expectation of a quiet apology and a warm plate of food waiting for him. However, when he rounded the corner and saw the people sitting in our chairs, he let out a scream that sounded like a wounded animal.
The sound was so high and sharp that it echoed through the open floor plan of the house and made the glasses on the table vibrate. Three people were sitting there in total silence: my older brother Colton, Garrett’s senior law partner Lawrence, and Natalie Harper.
