Page 83 of Dear Wife

“I saw you together in the park.”

You pause to let that one soak in, and I do the math. The park was what—two, three weeks ago? That’s when Sabine told me about Nick, made me memorize his phone number. I wonder what else you know, what else you saw when I didn’t realize you were watching.

“I know a guilty person when I see one, and I saw the look on your face. You were terrified somebody would see you together, so I did some research. As soon as I found out she was working at the shelter, I knew what the two of you were planning. And then I came home early from that training, and I couldn’t find you, but I found her at that Super1. I was waiting at her car when she came out.”

“But Sabine didn’t know where I was. I didn’t tell her on purpose.”

You shrug. “That explains why she wasn’t very helpful.”

“So youkilledher?”

Despite everything, I’m still praying you’ll deny it. It’s one thing for you to enjoy hurting me, but to hurt a stranger for helping me? I’m praying you’re not that evil.

“What else was I supposed to do? She looked me in the eyes and lied about that day in the park. She said it was a chance meeting, that you only talked for a minute or two when really it was sixteen. Sixteen whole minutes. I know because I timed it. When I told her that I knew she was helping you make a run for it, she got loud. She went for her phone. I shoved her in the back of my car and got out of there before anybody came over to see what the fuss was about. And what do you think would have happened if I’d let her get away? I’ll tell you what. She would have gone running to my boss. She would have told him lies about us. About me. I couldn’t have her doing that. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Yes, your precious reputation, more important to you than how you actually treat your wife. Something you fabricated to deflect from what you really are, a coddled mama’s boy with the same hot head as his convict father. Everything you do is an attempt to prove you’re nothing like him. Becoming a cop. Taking care of your mother. Shoving your gun down my throat so I wouldn’t leave. Anything to project this big, happy family.

I hate you with a burning, blazing fury. “I did this on purpose, you know.”

“Did what?”

A truck rumbles by, shaking the rooftop like an earthquake, and I wait for it to pass.

“Brought you here.”

Your brow crumples. “What do you mean, you brought me here? You didn’t bring me here. I am trained for this. This is what I do. You tried to throw me off your trail but Ifoundyou.”

“You think I didn’t know you’d be clocking all the Wi-Fi check-ins to the Facebook page? That you wouldn’t notice all those long listens on the scanner website? Those were all huge Bat Signals in the sky. I knew they would be.”

You tilt your head, and the look you give me is dubious. “No, you didn’t. You couldn’t even install the new printer. I had to come home on my lunch hour to do it for you.”

Your heels are inches from the edge of the roof now. One more step backward and you’ll be hanging over air.

“Pay attention, Marcus. I knew that Jade would be working her magic down in the basement, plotting all the IP check-ins onto a map, and I knew they would lead you straight to me. Did you see my friend Nick on all the ATM cameras? I am not as stupid as you think.”

You don’t say a word, but your expression is cussing me out.

“And how about those phones from that skeevy minimart? Did you find those?” I catch the flash of surprise in your eyes, the way your jaw goes slack, and I laugh, a harsh, bitter sound. “I gave three of them away to random people I met on the street. The fourth one I used fordays. I stole money from achurch, and then I spent it in a place just up the road, one with dozens of surveillance cameras. Are you getting what I’m telling you? Iplannedthis. I sent up flares that would lead you here. Iwantedyou to find me.”

I see the moment the quarter drops, the way your brow clears in understanding, in shock. Your voice is both incredulous and enraged. “You fucking bitch.”

“Why, because after all these years I’m finally standing up for myself? That doesn’t make me a bitch, it makes me brave. Now apologize.”

“No.” Even now, backed into a literal corner with nowhere to go but through a bullet, you won’t say the words. You can’t get them over your tongue.

I wag the gun, pointing in the air at your face. “Repeat after me, Marcus. I am a sorry excuse for a human and I apologize for ever hurting you.”

“No.”This time you shout it. You shake your head, your expression bitter. “You’re the one who should apologize, because this is all on you. I would have stayed with you forever. I would have died for you. You fucked this up, not me. I loved you, and you fucked us up.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t love me. You only loved what I could give you—control.”

“What? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t give me control. I take it.”

And that right there is the crux of the problem. The one thing you did right. For too long, I allowed you to take my power. I was complicit in my own victimization. It took an outsider, another woman—Sabine—to make me see that in order to end this, I had to demand my power back.

I give the gun another wag—hello? I’m in control now—and it works. The fury drops off your face, and your eyes get glassy.

“You were wrong before, you know. I really do love you. You are the best thing in my life. The only part that makes it worth living. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.”

---