In The After

3.3 ADELAIDE

It's nausea that wakes me and, at first, I am so disoriented I forget where I am, and why.

I'm in a wide, soft bed in a room painted dove gray. A white silk comforter covers both Tristen and I. Light filters through the sheer curtains but I can't tell from it's angle whether it's morning or afternoon. Probably morning since Tristen's still out.

I roll over for my phone but it's not on the bedside table where I remember leaving it.

Then last night comes down around me and a sadness takes over. The humiliation of Alexander's party. Cade's cruel demeanor. My own hateful words. Tears threaten to spring free as I remember the look on his face. How quickly he was willing to believe the worst of me. How easily he fell into the role of Eliza's keeper.

He called me Eliza.

This makes me cover my face with my hands. My gut rolls and I ignore it.

I've never been jealous of Eliza. Not really. It didn't bother me that he owned a complicated history or even that a picture of her hung in our guest room. I have always believed, from the very start of things, that Cade's love for me is true. Bright, shiny, and remarkably untarnished by his tragic past. He has loved two women, I'd accepted. But separately, with very little overlap. Eliza was then and I am now.

Until last night, that's what I saw.

But clearly he is not done with her after all. The quickness with which he was willing to accuse me of heartlessness- that hurt more than the accusations themselves. He must not know me at all if he truly believes I'd show up dressed like Eliza for shock value.

I push back the comforter and flee to the bathroom where I throw up.

I am a stranger to him on a very basic level. A stranger carrying his baby.

We've only made love three times since getting the green light from Dr Weiss. A careful thing. I still felt emotionally raw so tended to hold back since the miscarriage. And he didn't want me to feel pressured into anything. Seven months to make baby #1. Three weeks to make baby #2. I'd planned on telling him after the party last night but of course that got ruined. So he still doesn't know and I'm sitting on my knees in front of a strange toilet feeling an ambivalence I never expected towards Cade.

And yet he's the only one in the world I want to share this news with. I didn't mean what I said. I loathed myself for saying what I did when I remember him weeping over our lost baby with every bit as much heartbreak as I. While I may be scared that I am sharing Cade's heart with a dead woman, MY heart- the whole thing- belongs to only him.

I sigh, flush, rise. My make-up from last night is blurred and smeared so I scrub as much off as I can. When I walk down the hall, I realize Oliver's place is identical to Cade's old apartment in this building except he has much better home interior style than my husband. I get the feeling that I'm alone, and it's confirmed when I see a note he's left for me on the counter.

"Meeting clients for lunch. Make yourselves at home."

I smile faintly. He was so gracious last night when I called. I needed a place to get away. I was so angry and so hurt. He'd have tracked me down at his brothers' or his parents'. I didn't want to involve his family. And our friends- his friends- all thought I'd dressed like Eliza instead of like a gypsy.

I admit a little part of me wanted Cade to pay with worry. I wanted to teach him a lesson. And I held my ground until I heard the tone of his voice on my voice mail. Cade- he's my weakness.

I finally find a clock and see it's almost 2 in the afternoon. Wow. Tristen must have been exhausted. I find Oliver's coffee maker and grounds and make myself some. The baby will have to forgive me. I cried half the night and my head is pounding. I have to drive home so I need my wits about me.