“Chessy, what the hell are you doing?” Tate demanded from the doorway.
She ignored him and went back to her closet to yank clothing from hangers, returning to dump them into the suitcase without bothering to arrange them in any way.
His hand closed around her wrist and she froze when he prompted her to look up at him and meet his gaze. His features were gray, deep grooves lining his forehead. Sorrow and regret swamped his eyes. He looked tortured.
Not her problem.
She wrested her hand from his grip and took a step back, her tone as frigid as an Artic wind.
“Do not touch me.”
He took an immediate step back and when she went to her dresser for underwear and bras he repeated his earlier question.
“What the hell are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?”
She paused, her hands full of her intimate things. Then she turned and stared him down until unease crept into his eyes.
“I’m leaving,” she said simply. “I would think that much is obvious. But if you need me to spell it out for you, I’m packing my clothes and then I’m getting in my car and then I’m getting the hell away from you.”
He flinched, his features going pale. “Chessy, please don’t go. I know you’re angry. God, you certainly have the right to be. But please don’t leave when you’re so upset. I’ll go. This is your house. I’ll get a hotel and come back tomorrow when we can talk this out.”
“Exactly what are we going to talk out, Tate? The fact that you lied to me? That you made me promises that once again you didn’t keep? Or maybe the fact that you took a phone call when your wife was helpless to defend herself against a man you chose and were supposed to have been guiding every step of the way. Let me make myself perfectly clear. There isn’t a single thing you have to say that I care to hear. There’s no going back. No forgetting what happened. No way to undo what’s already been done. You made your choice and it damn sure wasn’t me.”
Tate sank onto the edge of the bed, his head bowed. His hands shook visibly and his shoulders heaved as he struggled with his emotions. Chessy tossed the rest of her clothing into the suitcase, only wanting to get it done so she could get the hell out before she broke down and completely lost it.
She grabbed an oversized bag from underneath the bathroom sink and quickly emptied the drawers of all her toiletries and then decided that whatever she didn’t get she’d return for at a later time. Preferably when Tate wasn’t here. His precious clients could keep him company from now on. She was done waiting around for every crumb of attention he threw her way.
After dropping the toiletry bag by the bed, she closed her suitcase and zipped it up. Tate hadn’t moved, seemingly frozen and in shock that she was leaving. It didn’t surprise her. Their relationship was a study in her giving and him taking. Of her never bucking his authority. Always ceding to his wishes and control.
That was all coming to a screeching halt starting tonight.
“At least let me drive you to where you’re going,” Tate said in a low voice. “I’m worried about you driving, Chessy. At least give me that. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
She gave him a scornful look and then shook her head. “That’s a laugh. You want to make sure I’m safe. Forgive my amusement over the flaming hypocrisy of that statement.”
Tate closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “I deserve your anger. I deserve whatever you dish out, but God, please, Chessy. Stay so we can work it out. Don’t leave. I love you.”
“I believe you love me,” Chessy said honestly. “You just don’t love me enough and you don’t love me as much as I love you. I suppose I would have settled for that once. But not any longer. I deserve better.”
She yanked the suitcase off the bed and slung the toiletry bag over her shoulder before heading out of the bedroom, Tate on her heels. She wished he’d just let her go. There was little point in trying to change her mind. He should know her well enough to realize the futility of dissuading her when she was set on something.
Before she would have appreciated his determination to save their marriage, but that was when she thought they had a viable relationship. Now, she just wanted to be away from him so she could vent her devastation, but she was just as determined that she not break down in front of him.
She had to be strong for herself. No longer would she depend on Tate for her emotional stability. Her faith and trust had been sorely misplaced. She would have never thought him capable of what he’d done tonight. Yes, he’d put business before her for quite some time, but never in a situation that was fraught with peril and her safety was truly at risk. In her heart, she’d always known that he’d protect her when it really counted.
How very wrong she’d been, and it broke her heart.
She kicked open the door that was still partially ajar from their entrance just minutes before and she dragged her suitcase over the step and onto the front porch. Tate tried one last time, gently capturing her arm with his hand. Though his grip wasn’t bruising in the least, it was firm, commanding her attention.
She stared pointedly at him and then down at his hand, silently telling him to let her go.
“Chessy, please don’t do this,” he begged softly. “Stay. Tonight at least. We’ll talk in the morning. I won’t go into work. We’ll go away if you like. Somewhere we can be afforded complete privacy. I’ll do whatever it takes for you not to go.”
“It’s too late for that. Going away won’t fix what’s wrong. It only delays the inevitable. I can’t force you to make me your priority and furthermore I wouldn’t want to try to make someone feel something for me they don’t. The truth always wins out in the end. Tonight proved that.”
“If the truth wins out in the end then I’ll get you back,” Tate vowed. “Because the truth is I love you and that’s never going away. I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back home where you belong, Chessy. So be warned. I’m not giving up and I’m not letting you walk out of my life or our marriage.”
“You already left our marriage,” she said sadly.
Then she turned and lugged her suitcase to her Mercedes and threw it in the backseat. She didn’t look back at Tate. She forced herself to open her door, slide into the driver’s seat and drive away. But as she drove away, she couldn’t help but glimpse in her rearview mirror and see Tate’s silhouette outlined by the porch light as he watched her drive away.