'Til Death: Volume Two - Page 9/43

I drive down and find a park, and then I get out of the car. It’s late afternoon and the sun is just beginning to set. I stare up at the old house and my knees shake. So many memories flood my mind. I stare at the driveway and I remember the moment I ran to him after he’d been away for weeks. I also remember how he turned me away. How blind I was. Tears prick my eyes and anger swirls in my chest. It was all a big, fat, ugly lie.

I move my eyes towards the part where the business used to be, and gasp. I have to blink and rub my eyes twice, but the words are as clear as they were the day I left. Tandem Holdings is big, bold and still in the same spot it was all those years ago. Did he just sell the business? Walter probably took over and just never changed the name. I’m sure it’s that simple.

I just figured Marcus would want it out of his house.

Maybe it’s not his house. Maybe that’s Walter’s, too.

I clutch my purse to my side and march up to the front door. I have to be strong, professional and brave. No emotion. No feelings. Just business.

I push the front doors open and see the office hasn’t changed. Everything is as it was. There’s a young blond girl sitting at the reception desk. Taking a deep, trembling breath, I walk up to her.

“Hi, how can I help?” she asks.

“I was just . . .” I swallow. “I was just wondering if Marcus Tandem still worked here?”

She blinks at me. “Of course. He owns it.”

My knees want to go out from beneath me. He still owns it? I don’t understand. Everything he did was to keep his business, but losing me would have taken it. He should have lost it. He should have paid. How the hell can he still own it? I steady myself and in a weak voice I whisper, “He owns it? Are you sure? I thought . . . Walter owned it.”

“Walter passed,” she says.

That filthy, scheming son-of-a-bitch. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Nothing. Not even murder, because that’s the only way Walter would have ‘passed’. I suddenly feel sick, and my hands wrap around my stomach as pain radiates through my body, lodging into my heart.

I fell in love with a cold-hearted monster.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

I nod, closing my eyes angrily.

“Can I get you some water?”

I lift my head. “Where is he?” I croak.

“Marcus?”

“Yes.”

“He’s at a benefit.”

“Where?” I demand.

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not able to give that kind of information out, and—”

“Do you know who I am?” I bark, suddenly filled with rage.

All the years of pain and hurt have finally swarmed together to create a terrifying rage that I have no control over. He took my life. He ruined me. He lost nothing when I lost everything. All this time I’ve been suffering, and he’s been living as if nothing ever fucked up in his world.

“I don’t,” she whispers, and I see her hand heading towards the panic button.

“I’m Katia Tandem.”

She flinches.

“His wife?” she squeaks.

So he’s spoken of me.

“Yes, his wife. Now, I’ll ask you again. Where is he?”

She rattles off an address. I nod sharply and turn, rushing back out. Rage is consuming me, my hands are shaking, and my entire body feels numb—even my skull is tingling with fury. Marcus Tandem destroyed my life. Destroyed it. Now he’s enjoying his.

Not anymore.

My determination is renewed.

~*~*~*~

I arrive at the benefit in record time. I’m not thinking. I feel nothing—nothing but pure, unadulterated wrath. There are people everywhere when my shaking legs get me out of the car. All of the partygoers are dressed to perfection, long dresses and tuxedos. All of them happy. All of them smiling. None of them struggling.

None of them understand pain or agony.

They have everything.

With my legs still trembling, I walk towards the group of people, my eyes scanning the crowd for one person and one person only. I shove through people, most of them giving me a horrified look. It’s not surprising. My dark hair is tied atop my head in a messy bun, I’m wearing jeans, a tank, and a pair of Converse that are old and worn.

“Are you lost, Miss?”

I turn to see an older man in a suit. He looks friendly enough. I open my mouth to speak, to answer him, but my words become strangled in my throat. Everything in my world comes to a screeching halt when my eyes fall on him. My husband. The man beside me is speaking, but I hear nothing. The people flitter around me, but they no longer exist.

Only he does.

He’s standing at the end of a red carpet, his arm draped around a gorgeous blond woman. He’s smiling for a camera. A fucking camera. He hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still as devastatingly gorgeous as he was the day I left. The only difference is his hair is slightly longer, a little messier. He’s wearing a black suit, with a dark blue tie.

I wonder what happened to the red one?

Anger swirls with heartbreak, making my entire body go numb. Seeing him with a woman is tearing my heart into tiny pieces. I don’t want him. I hate him, but he’s not meant to be happy. He’s not meant to be living as though I never existed. A tear escapes and flows down my cheek and I struggle to keep from turning into a sobbing, crazy mess.

It burns.

It’s like a fire ripping through my soul.

“Miss?”

I blink the tears back. I want to reach into my chest and rip my own heart out. Not even that could hurt more. How can he just stand there as if his world was never crushed into a thousand pieces? That man is the father of my child. He’s her God damned father. I take a step back. I can’t do this. I can’t. It’s too much.