Submerged

“Doomed from the beginning,” her mother had told her one night when Sadie, a sobbing wreck, had called her after Philip had admitted to his first affair.

But she’d proven her mother wrong. Hadn’t she? Things seemed better the year after Sam was born. Then she and Philip started fighting again. Lately, it had escalated into a nightly event. At least on the nights he came home before she went to sleep.

Philip entered the bedroom and slammed the door.

“You know,” he said. “You’ve been a bitch for months.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“A frigid bitch. And we both know it’s not from PMS, seeing as you don’t get that anymore.”

Flinching, she caught her sad reflection in the dresser mirror. She should be used to his careless name-calling by now. But she wasn’t. Each time, it was like a knife piercing deeper into her heart. One of these days, she wouldn’t be able to pull it out. Then where would they be? Just another statistic?

Philip waited behind her, flustered, combing a hand through his graying brown hair.

For a moment, she felt ashamed of her thoughts.

“Are you even listening to me?” he sputtered in outrage.

And the moment was gone.

She sighed, drained. “What do you want me to say, Philip? You’re never home. And when you are, you’re busy working in your office. We don’t do anything together or go any—”

“Christ, Sadie! We were just out with Morris and his wife.”

“I’m not talking about functions for the firm,” she argued. “We don’t see our old friends anymore. We never go to movies, never just sit and talk, never make… love.”

Philip crossed his arms and scowled. “And whose fault is that? It’s certainly not mine. You’re the one who pulls away every time I try to get close to you. You know, a guy can only handle so much rejection before—”

“What?” She whipped around to confront him. “Before you go looking for it elsewhere?”

He stared at her for a long moment and the air grew rank with tension, coiling around them with the slyness of a venomous snake, fangs exposed, ready to strike.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, defeated. “Maybe if you gave some of the love you pour on Sam to me once in a while, I wouldn’t be tempted to look elsewhere.”

He strode out of the room, his footsteps thundering down the stairs. A minute later, a door slammed.

She released a trembling breath. “Coward.”

She wasn’t sure if she meant Philip… or herself.

Brushing the drapes aside, she peered through the window to the dimly lit street below. It was devoid of any moving traffic, just a few parked vehicles lining the sidewalks. The faint rumble of the garage door made her clench the drapes. She heard the defiant revving of an engine, and then watched as the Mercedes backed down the driveway, a stream of frosty exhaust trailing behind it. The surface of the street shimmered from a fresh glazing of ice, and the car sped away, tires spinning on the pavement.

Philip always seemed to get in the last word.

She watched the fiery glow of the taillights as they faded into the night. Then the flickering of the streetlamp across the road caught her eye. She frowned when the light went out. One of the neighbors’ dogs started barking, set off by either the abrupt darkness or Philip’s noisy departure. She wasn’t sure which.

And then something emerged from the bushes.

A lumbering shadow shuffled down the sidewalk, a few yards to the right of the lamp. It was a man, of that she was sure. She could make out a heavy jacket and some kind of hat, but she couldn’t distinguish anything else.

The man paused across the street from her house.

Sadie was sure that he was staring up at her.

She shivered and stepped out of view, the drapes flowing back into place. When her breathing calmed, she edged toward the window again and took a surreptitious peek.

Gail, a neighbor from across the street, was walking Kali, a Shih Tzu poodle. But other than the woman and her dog, the sidewalk was empty.

Sadie locked all the doors and windows, and set the security alarm…

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About the Author

Cheryl Kaye Tardif is an award-winning, international bestselling Canadian suspense author. Her novels include Submerged, Divine Justice, Children of the Fog, The River, Divine Intervention, and Whale Song, which New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice calls “a compelling story of love and family and the mysteries of the human heart…a beautiful, haunting novel.”

She is now working on her next thriller.

Cheryl also enjoys writing short stories inspired mainly by her author idol Stephen King, and this has resulted in Skeletons in the Closet & Other Creepy Stories (eBook) and Remote Control (novelette eBook).

In 2010 Cheryl detoured into the romance genre with her contemporary romantic suspense debut, Lancelot’s Lady, written under the pen name of Cherish D’Angelo.