Page 65 of The Perfect Marriage

“Of course.”

“Yes. You shouldn’t have taken his case, and I don’t think you’re making the best judgments, most likely due to how personal it is to you. I know Adam’s a little shit, but he does deserve a proper defense.”

I snap my menu closed. “What are you talking about? What poor judgments am I making?”

“Don’t get snappy with me. I invented snap.” Matthew clicks his fingers.

I roll my eyes.

He clears his throat. “As I was saying. You’re pushing this trial through quickly. Why?”

“I have my reasons, and they’re none of your business.”

“They are my business. I’m helping with the case, remember?”

I let out a huff. This was supposed to be an enjoyable dinner. Why is he questioning me or my intentions? I take a drink of champagne and set my glass down. “Adam and Eleanor want a speedy trial, and it’s their right.”

“You should advise them otherwise.” Matthew narrows his eyes at me.

“My boss wants this case closed quickly. I’m not getting profit-share while I’m working on it,” I whisper.

“That’s not an excuse. Get him a different lawyer.”

I slam my fist on the table, bouncing the silverware. “You know I’m the only lawyer that has a chance in hell of winning this case.”

Matthew leans back. “Take it easy.”

“Sorry.” I straighten up the silverware. “I just don’t understand why you’re challenging me. I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, and that’s exactly why I’m challenging you. I don’t want your personal involvement to cloud your judgment. You’re the all-star lawyer. Give me one good, lawful reason why you’re rushing the trial.” He folds his arms in front of his chest and cocks his head.

I glance at the table, around the restaurant, and then at Matthew. “Well, Kelly’s twisted past leaked to the news, and if we can get the case in front of a jury while that information is fresh in people’s minds, it’ll help with reasonable doubt in Adam’s case.”

Matthew nods.

“We don’t know who the third set of DNA belongs to and, in a way, not knowing can help us, because if we knew and that man had a solid alibi, then it’d mean nothing to the case.”

Matthew nods again.

“Same with whoever sent the photo and the threat. A person can’t have an alibi if we don’t know who the person is.”

He smiles at me. “That’s all I needed to know. Sounds like your judgment is clearer than I thought. Now, let’s eat,” Matthew says just as the waiter approaches the table.

A couple of hours later, I’m walking into our—or should I say my—home in D.C. carrying my box of leftovers from dinner and a bottle of wine I picked up on the way home. Hopefully, Anne can get the phone at the lake house shut off by tomorrow. I can’t have Adam ruining everything. I spend the evening sipping wine and reviewing all the facts of the case. I doze off around ten, which I didn’t intend to, but… wine.

It’s much later when I hear someone coming up the stairs. I have had a longing desire for… something, ever since this ordeal started. I’ve been unsatisfied for quite some time, and I need something, anything. I can feel the pressure in the air change slightly, and I know the door has been opened, I’m not the only person in the room anymore. I stare at the ceiling, but with no light, it begins to morph into clouds of blue and black, a swirl of something beyond. I start to lift off the bed, and the room becomes warm, and it feels more familiar than I have ever known. I can feel eyes upon me, circling me like prey in the darkness but I’m not afraid, quite the opposite. I’m dressed in lacy panties and a lacy bra, a piece of meat garnished for presentation.

The mattress presses down, and I feel breath on me. Soft hands slide up my stomach and then grasp at my breasts, massaging them. My breath quickens. I want this as bad as anything in my life. I can feel a cloying stickiness build up in my panties. A rubbing sensation grows as I begin to moan and then something is inside me. My every desire being fulfilled as if the thoughts in my head were being projected on the wall and deciphered. By the time I climax, I am more drained than I have been in days. Sleep quickly comes over me as I drift back down onto the bed, chasing a new sense of longing.

When I awake the next morning, there is a void just next to me in bed. I can’t wait for the day when that hole is filled for good. A dam put in place to stop the endless flow of nothingness, all my desires carried in its current. I have decided that regardless of the outcome of the trial, I will divorce Adam when this is all over. I’m going to do what’s best for me, and it’s about goddamn time that I do. If he’s found innocent, he’ll have the opportunity to start his life over—I just won’t be in it.

My phone buzzes and I pick it up. It’s a text from Anne to say that Bob has moved our meeting up to 8:30am.

I text back that I’ll be there.Goddamnit, Bob. I quickly get ready and haul ass into the office. I’m usually in much earlier than 8am, but with my late-night visitor, I got a delayed start this morning. Anne hands me a cup of coffee as soon as the elevator doors open. She looks bright and cheery despite our circumstances. Reporters have been trying to get into the building to interview me and have been calling the office repeatedly. Anne has done a great job of keeping them away.

“Good morning, Sarah. Bob’s already in your office,” she says with a look of pity. I glance at my watch.

“Why? It’s not even 8:15am.”

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