Page 30 of Absolution (Infidelty #3)

Jackie

“There I was,”

I say, my voice still hoarse.

“Heading back toward the main road when I came across this line of abandoned cars. Just blocking everything. I was pissed. I thought people just left ‘em in the middle of the highway.”

I rub my arms, trying to shake the memory.

“I got out, ready to walk up and knock on a window or yell or something. But then I heard shouting. Voices. Not angry, scared. I followed the sound, and these people, maybe seven or eight of them, they were huddled in this huge drainage culvert off the road.”

I pause, looking at Kyle.

“I thought, what the hell are they doing in there? I mean, it was walled off on one end. But I couldn’t really hear them from the road, so I walked closer. That’s when one of them grabbed my arm and yanked me in.”

“I was about to lose it on him when I heard it. The water. Just this roar, like a freight train. It came down the bend so fast I couldn’t even see the road after. If he hadn’t pulled me in…”

My voice breaks, just for a second.

“We watched everything go under. Cars. Trees. Whole chunks of road.”

I shake my head, quiet now.

“We stayed in there all night. We had no signal, no bars. Someone had a flashlight. A couple of granola bars. That was it. When it was finally light, we started walking.”

“Where was Charlie?”

Kyle asks quietly.

I sigh, running a hand through my damp hair.

“We got there and it started pouring. Like, the second we pulled in. Just this wall of water coming down. I asked him if he checked the advisory and he just shrugged, said he didn’t have to, said it was safe.”

I let out a dry laugh.

“I was so pissed. I made him take me into town because of course he didn’t have internet, and the cabin had no cell signal. He said it was off the grid. I didn’t realize how off.”

Kyle’s watching me, silent.

“So, we drive to this diner, barely anyone there. Just one waitress closing up, and she tells us there’s a flash flood advisory. That they already gave evacuation orders. I looked at Charlie like, let’s go, and the man just... shrugs. Says it’s fine. That the cabin’s ‘built to last.’”

I look down at my hands, fiddling with the corner of my sleeve.

“I told him I wasn’t staying. I begged him to come with me. He told me to drop him off and take the car. Said he had ATVs and backup generators. That he would be fine.”

My voice shakes.

I let out a hollow laugh.

“He’s probably drinking beer right now, thinking I overreacted.”

Kyle doesn't say anything right away. He swallows hard.

“Jackie… I found the address. The exact one. And I gave it to the responders.”

I look up.

“They went out there earlier tonight. The cabin… it was completely destroyed. Washed out. They said it was right in the flooded zone.”

My heart stops.

“They found a body,”

he says gently.

“The ID said it was Charlie.”

For a second, I don’t breathe. The words don’t register.

“No,”

I whisper.

“No, no. If I’d known, I never would’ve left him. I… he wouldn’t come with me! He said he was fine!”

My chest seizes, and suddenly I’m feeling claustrophobic.

“I left him there. Oh my God, I left him there. I drove away, he was right there and I… I left.”

Kyle’s arms come around me, steady and warm. I collapse into them, sobbing now, barely able to breathe. He holds me tightly, one hand cradling the back of my head, whispering softly.

“It’s not your fault. You tried. You tried.”

But I can’t stop shaking. Because all I can hear is the sound of rain. All I can see is the cabin in the rearview mirror as I drove away.

And all I can think is: He was still standing there.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I wake up, I’m curled into Kyle’s side, his arm still around me. The dim light filtering through the windows says it’s morning, or close to it, but the clock reads eleven. I stay there for a moment, listening to the hum of movement around us, the occasional static from the radios, the rain still tapping on the windows.

Yesterday or this morning I changed into some of Kyle’s dry clothes, sweats and an old shirt that smells like him. He’d called home, and told his mother we were safe. She said, she would wake the kids but I said no. Let them sleep.

Then… then he told me about Charlie.

I close my eyes tightly. Charlie. He was fine. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was alive and complaining about the traffic. And now he’s gone.

If only he’d come with me.

If only I’d insisted.

If only I’d tried harder.

“He’d still be alive,”

I whisper.

Kyle’s hand gently moves through my hair. “Hey,”

he says softly.

“You’re okay. You’re here.”

I shake my head against his chest.

“I still can’t believe it. I keep thinking I’m going to hear his voice, or get a text, or-”

My voice breaks.

“He was fine. I left, and now he’s gone.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Jackie,”

Kyle says, his voice calm and steady.

“These flash floods… they’ve taken a lot from a lot of people. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“But if I’d insisted-”

“And what if he had insisted?”

Kyle cuts in gently.

“What if he’d convinced you to stay?”

He pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Jackie, I... our children could’ve lost you.”

My breath catches. His eyes are full of pain but also quiet conviction.

“I know it’s hard to see right now,”

he says.

“But you made it out. You did the right thing. You’re here. That matters.”

I let out a trembling breath, the guilt still sitting heavy in my chest, but his words settle into the cracks. Not erasing it. But softening it, just a little.

I nod, tears slipping silently down my cheek. “Okay.”

He kisses my forehead, then holds me tighter.

“Oh… ah, sorry,”

a voice says above us.

I blink into awareness, the dim buzz of activity filtering into the crowded room. A man stands awkwardly near our cot.

“It’s fine, Doug,”

Kyle says, sitting up slightly.

It’s not like we have a door to knock on. We’re literally sleeping in a room full of people in the same boat.

Doug scratches the back of his head.

“Just wanted to let you know the main roads are starting to clear. Thought you would want to know.”

“Oh. Thanks, man,”

Kyle says, stretching.

Doug gives him a nod, then glances at me.

“You’ve got a good one,”

he says, then walks off.

I turn to Kyle, raising an eyebrow.

“What was that about?”

Kyle shrugs, looking suspiciously sheepish.

“Oh, nothing. I just helped write some names down last night.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

I ask, frowning.

He shrugs again, cheeks going pink.

“It’s not like I was out rescuing babies or anything. I just… helped organize the list of evacuees. Passed info over the radio. Nothing big.”

I stare at him for a second, then smile, tired, but genuine.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

He looks away, embarrassed, and mutters.

“Still. It helped me not lose my mind.”

We decide it’s time to leave Kerr. There’s nothing left to wait for. Kyle walks me to the monstrous silver SUV parked outside, rain still misting down from the grey sky.

He helps me up into the passenger seat. When he gets in and starts the engine, I glance around the spacious interior.

“When’d you buy this?”

“I didn’t,”

he says.

“It’s my dad’s. Well, his rental.”

“Your dad is here?”

“Yeah,”

he says, flicking on the wipers, then glancing at me before focusing on the road.

“Both my parents are. They’re, uh… getting a divorce.”

“Wow,”

I say, quietly.

“How do you feel about that?”

He’s quiet a second, then shrugs.

“I don’t know. But… I’m happy for my mom.”

I turn to look at him.

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”

He gives me a small, self-deprecating smile.

“Turns out I had the whole thing wrong.”

And then, without being prompted, he starts talking.

About his mom. His grandparents. How the stories he’d believed his whole life were wrong.

“I think my mom stayed, even after I was an adult, because she was scared she’d never see me again. And the sad thing is, she would’ve been right.”

He swallows.

“If it wasn’t for me thinking I had a heart attack, I might’ve never seen the truth.”

“What?”

I ask, turning toward him fully.

“That trip I took with the kids to New York? I thought I was having a heart attack. I wasn’t, but it scared the hell out of me. Made me confront a lot of shit. I finally stood up to my dad. Realized I needed help.”

I shift in my seat, suddenly tense.

“When you went to New York, huh?”

He glances at me. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me,”

he says, tone sharpening just slightly.

I hesitate, then sigh.

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

He doesn’t like that, I can tell. But he lets it go.

We drive in silence for a while, the hum of the tires and the soft patter of rain filling the space. I stare out the window, not ready to go to his apartment, but needing to see the kids.

When we finally pull into the lot, he parks. Before I can unbuckle, he reaches over gently.

“Your turn.”

I take a breath.

“Remember when you went to Boston?”

He nods, cautious. “Yeah.”

“I went there too. To surprise you. Only… I was the one surprised when I saw you and her.”

He lowers his head, jaw clenching in shame.

“Well, I was pissed,”

I say, my voice shaking.

“Like, stab-you-in-the-dick pissed. But I was also scared. Because of the prenup. And everything.”

He frowns.

“Wait, what?”

“Anyway, I thought I could just swallow my anger. But I couldn’t. So… I kinda… drugged you?”

His head jerks up.

“You what?”

I say quickly, before I lose my courage.

“I gave you this hormone drug. It’s supposed to help with estrogen balance and… stuff.”

He turns to look out the windshield, jaw working.

“So, the nipples, and the weird mood swings and…”

He groans.

“Oh my God. I cried, Jackie.”

“What?”

I ask, eyes widening.

“I messed up a brief at work and my boss yelled at me and I just started crying. Like, fully crying. Jackie, stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry,”

I gasp, wiping tears from my eyes.

“It’s not funny.”

I try to be serious. Then burst out giggling again.

“Did… did everyone see you cry?”

“Yes,”

he mutters.

“But I said it was allergies.”

“Did they believe you?”

“I don’t know.” He yells.

The giggles slowly fade. I look at him more seriously now.

“I’m not sorry.”

“Yeah, the laughing kind of gave that away.”

“Are you angry?”

He’s quiet for a beat.

“I don’t know. Why’d you tell me now?”

“Well… I stopped giving you the drug before you left for New York. So, your maybe-heart attack, might’ve been related.”

He blinks. Then lets out a soft laugh.

“Well, if that’s what finally snapped me out of it, then… I guess it’s fine. But I could’ve lived without thinking I was dying.”

“I am sorry about that,”

I say, gently.

He glances at me.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Come to my next therapy session with me.”

I think for a few seconds. Then nod. “Okay.”