<b>Chapter </b><b>33 </b>
Elissa nced past Frank to Marcia, who was trailing a step behind him. Her voice <i>was </i>cool and distant. “No, thank you. Tanya Foster’s waiting for me.”
“Elissa-”
Frank finally seemed to sense that something was off. He caught her wrist and said quietly, “Wait a second.”
Elissa tried to pull away, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he turned to Marcia. “Go wait in the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Marcia managed a polite enough smile, but her hands clenched tight at her sides. Before getting in the car, she shot Elissa a re, making her annoyance all too clear.
Frank’s thumb moved in slow circles against the inside of Elissa’s wrist as if he were still weighing his words. “About what happened at the hospital with Marcia–she’s agreed not to press charges. She says she’s willing to let it go. I promised her we’d postpone moving
out for now.<i>” </i>
It was supposed to sound like Marcia was being generous, turning the other cheek. But really, Elissa had only given Marcia a taste of her own medicine. And yet Frank acted as if both he and Marcia were doing Elissa a favor, as if they were the ones paying the price for her so–called recklessness.
But the truth was, he’d only agreed to stay for Marcia’s sake–the woman he really cared about–not for Elissa. It was as if everything was her fault, and everyone had to clean up after her.
“And what if I’m the one who wants to call the police?” Elissa asked quietly.
“What?”
“I was pushed down a flight of stairs. I cracked my head open, was bleeding everywhere. Am I not allowed to call the police?”
She met his eyes, her gaze steady and calm. “If I’d called the police that day, what would you have done, Frank? Would you have been thinking about me at all? Or would you have just tried to help Marcia cover it up?”
She remembered what she’d overheard on the hospital balcony–how those two words, “clean up,” always seemed toe up. It was almostughable. She’d been lying there, battered and bleeding, and her husband’s first instinct was to worry about Marcia.
Frank’s expression flickered, and Elissa didn’t miss it. She continued in a level tone, matter–of–fact. “If you wanted to, you’d have found a thousand ways to take care of
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things, no matter who called the police. You always know how to make problems disappear when you want to. The only reason you’re staying here isn’t <i>for </i>me–it’s for yourself.”
He was the one who wanted this, who relished every minute spent with the woman he truly loved. Why me her for any of it?
Elissa’s five–foot–four frame seemed small next to Frank, but she stood tall, her voice unwavering, simply stating the truth.
Frank couldn’t find a single word to argue back. For a moment, he was thrown–this girl who used to be so gentle, so amodating, was suddenly so sharp, so clear in her words. If it had been anyone else, he might have brushed it off, but looking into Elissa’s clear, earnest eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to lie.
The rain wasing down harder now. Frank crossed to the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out an umbre. He walked back and pressed it into her hand.
“Just give me some time. I’ll figure out what to do about Marcia.”
Elissa knew exactly what she wanted. She just smiled and asked, “And can you really cut things off with her?”
Her relentless honesty seemed to strike a nerve. Frank’s jaw, tightened in frustration. “Elissa, she’s my sister–inw, the mother of my nephew. How am I supposed to cut her offpletely? Not everyone is ”
He stopped, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air.
Not everyone is what?
Elissa’s slender, pale fingers curled around the umbre handle. Her dampshes lifted slightly as she spoke, her voice quiet and strained. “Not everyone is a nobody, an orphan with no family, right?”
Frank fell silent. Elissa didn’t bother waiting for his answer. She set the umbre at his feet, turned, and walked toward Tanya Foster’s car.
Watching her slight figure disappear into the rain, Frank was suddenly filled with a strange panic. His anger faded in an instant. “When are youing home?” he called after her.
Elissa paused but didn’t look back. “Later. The clinic’s been busytely.”
She didn’t intend to go back at all. After all, Frank was always busy–and when she was out of the country for several days, he hadn’t even noticed she hadn’te home.
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