Page 19 of Blind Prophet

But why now?

Has she met someone?

We’ve been separated for years. In all that time, she never filed for divorce.

Of course, neither did I.

She handed me a divorce agreement that she printed from a website.

I told her I’d have my lawyers draft an agreement, but I never did.

I lied to my father about it to get him off my back. My chief legal counsel is aware and understands my marital situation isn’t his concern until I make it his concern.

A feminine shadow captures my attention.

The light reflects on the panes, blocking the details of the silhouette. But certainty resonates through my being.It’s her.

Why now?

Why not years ago?

Why didn’t I deal with this years ago?

My temples pulse, and I twist the top on the Vicodin and pop another one.

Two were never going to get me through this day.

I leave the cart on a patch of grass beside the stone path leading up to the guardhouse.

For December, the day is unseasonably warm. Little to no wind. A cold front is blowing in tomorrow. The grass, in areas not covered by leaves, is a mix of brown and green. Soon enough, it’ll be covered in white.

When I first brought Caroline to our property here, she’d been blown away by the foliage, the mix of golds and reds. It must’ve been October. She thought I’d taken her to a resort.

“This is yours?”she’d asked, amazed. Flabbergasted, even. And my stomach had churned. If only I could’ve hidden my background from her… It’s a pointless mental exercise. Things changed. She left.

A uniformed guard exits the guardhouse. Mid-to-late twenties, clean-cut, amenable, impossibly eager. I read his name tag.

“Lewis. She’s here?”

“In the bunkroom.”

“Why’d you put her there?”

A vision of bunks lined up along walls comes to mind.

Jesus.

“Don’t really have a place to keep visitors, sir.”

The house? He didn’t bring her up to my house?

I grit my teeth so hard my molars ache.

He fidgets.

Ripping into this guy will serve no purpose.

“Take me to her.”

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