Page 62 of The Atonement
Next, I checked the mini-fridge.
No soda.
No bags of chips on the desk.
The small silver trash can only contained a few used tea bags and the unopened bag of chocolate-covered peanuts I’d bought her. Next to the bed, there were two plastic bags of snacks, a romance book Maisy would’ve never read, and two coloring books. Were these for the kids? I hadn’t seen them color in years…
It was obvious what was going on.
They were either staying in another room or they weren’t staying there at all.
Where did they go, Ainsley?
I moved back into the bathroom, looking around. In the trash can, there was a green box.What the…
I picked it up cautiously.
No.
Hair dye?
She couldn’t be serious. She wouldn’t have ever actually dyed her hair. This had to be for something else. Ainsley’s red hair was…part of her. It was special. Beautiful. It was one of my favorite things about her. How could she even consider changing it?
I felt as if I might be sick as I threw the box back into the trash with disgust.
How dare she?
Howdareshe?
I stalked from the bathroom. Next to the door, there was an armoire. I made my way toward it and pulled it open. Inside, there were hangers, plastic bags for dry cleaning, and an ironing board. I stepped inside of the space, trying to determine if there was enough room for me to hide.
I shuffled things around, shoving the ironing board to the opposite end and pushing the hangers over with it. Doing that gave me just enough room to shut the door and bathe myself in total darkness.
I pulled out my phone and checked the time.
Now, we wait…
Nearly an hour passedbefore I heard the first sign of their return. Her voice carried from down the hall in the form of a laugh. She sounded happy. Carefree.
Wasn’t that just the story of my life?
She was happy, and I was hidden in a closet trying to fix our marriage.
I heard the lock disengage and the door open, and I held my breath, incredibly aware of how close she was.
“Thank you for doing this…for convincing me,” she said. I grimaced.Oh, shut up.
“I had a really nice time,” he said. I pressed my eye tothe crack in the door, trying to see whether he’d come inside with her. From there, I could just make out the muddy brown of her hair. Rage bubbled in my belly. This little tantrum had gone too far. How stupid was she going to feel once things had blown over and she still had to live with that color for months?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I’d like to do it again, if you’re up for it. When you’re done escaping, I mean.”
Escaping?Where the fuck did she think she was going?
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’d like that.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep myself from lunging out of the armoire right then. Who did she think she was?
