Sarah doesn’t make any gesture, sound, or remark to let me know how displeased she is with me. To let me know how much she hates me. And then I wonder, Does she even care? Does she care that I was cheating on her? Or is she trying to be strong? Is she trying to be professional? I can’t tell. I can’t read her. She’s my wife, and at this moment, I don’t even know her. The look she gives me is cold and distant. Her movements are almost robotic. Her eyes are clear and calculating.
“Wait a minute.” She circles a note on her paper and pulls me from my thoughts. “What time did you two fall asleep?”
“I don’t know.” I try to think back and recall the time, but I don’t even remember going to sleep or even being tired. The last thing I remember is having sex with Kelly.
“You have no idea what time you went to sleep?” she questions again.
“We must have just passed out after sex.” I don’t have a better answer. I really don’t know.
“There’s a period of time you don’t remember from that night?” She gives me a quizzical look.
“I guess.” I shrug.
“You guess? You’re being accused of murder, and you guess? Are you kidding me, Adam?” She drops her pen on her paper and massages her temples with the tips of her fingers.
“Well, what the hell do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t look good that you can’t remember part of that night. The prosecution will easily turn that statement you just made into—well, if you can’t remember, maybe you don’t remember killing her. You need to remember. You need to be sure.” Her frustration is showing, which isn’t the norm for Sarah. She’s always so calm and collected. I need to be sure of everything that happened that evening, but if this goes to trial, I’ll have time to prepare.
“I do remember hearing a car door slam. It’s what woke me up.”
“Are you sure?” she asks with a bit of skepticism. “You’re positive it wasn’t a tree branch falling or an acorn hitting the roof? There are all sorts of sounds in the woods.”
“Yes, I am… at least I think I am.” I rub my forehead as if the misplaced memories from that night will suddenly become clear.
Sarah lets out a huff and scribbles some notes down on her notepad. “What about the photo?”
“What photo?” I look at her and then I look past her trying to recall. Shit. It hits me. My eyes widen. How could I have forgotten about it? In everything that’s happened, I forgot something so important, something that could help prove my innocence.
“When did you receive it?”
“A few weeks before. It was in our mailbox at the lake house. Someone put it there, because there was no postage or anything,” I explain. Sarah jots down more notes. “Someone is trying to frame me, can’t you see?” I stare into her eyes.
She takes a deep breath. Her eyes lock with mine. “I’m trying to help, Adam—but you have to tell me everything. You have to remember everything. You’re lucky I found that envelope. It’s a huge break, but we have to figure out who took that photo, who threatened you.” She breaks eye contact and flips through her notes.
She’s right. I’m not helping. I need to look at everything, like the way I examine one of my books when I’m editing it. Where are the plot holes? Which characters aren’t fleshed out? Who is really driving the story? And why? What’s the crux of the story and what should I be looking for?
“They found three sets of DNA in her,” she says with exasperation, changing the subject.
At first, I don’t understand what she’s saying. My eyes are wide again, and my mouth is partially open.
“One of them is yours. One of them is Scott’s. And the third is unknown.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you weren’t the only man she was cheating on her husband with. I’m saying you weren’t special. I’m saying she was a whore.” Sarah looks just as surprised as I do after the words leave her mouth.
“Jesus, Sarah!”
“I’m sorry. I’m just. I’m still… processing all of this.” She looks away from me, almost like she’s ashamed for her outburst. I tell her it’s fine, even though I don’t think it is. None of this is fine. Kelly is dead. She was sleeping with another man. How could she?
“Maybe she was raped by that third man?” I offer.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe that third guy killed her too.” I’m trying to make sense of all this, but none of this makes sense. How could Kelly be seeing someone else? Why would she be? Was I not enough? Did she not love me like I loved her?
“Maybe. But I thought you were convinced it was Scott?” She jots down a few more notes.
“I thought I was too. I mean, I am. It had to have been him. He was abusive. You saw what he could do. He beat the hell out of me, and he hurt you, and I know what he was doing to Kelly.” I’m trying to convince Sarah just as much as I’m trying to convince myself. It has to be Scott. This third guy—maybe he was a one-night stand or maybe she was assaulted. I just can’t believe there was someone else. Kelly wouldn’t do that to me. She loved me. I loved her. We had something special.
“Well, that all may be true. But there’s no evidence to point to Scott. He may have been abusive, but that doesn’t mean he killed her. Plus, there were no reports of domestic abuse between Kelly and Scott.”
“She wouldn’t go to the police. He was the police. She was terrified.”
“I get that, but without evidence, it won’t hold up in court. The texts he sent her will help your case, but if he has an alibi, it won’t really matter. Husbands and wives fight. Right now, we have you at the scene of the crime, you were the last one to see her alive, and your DNA is all over her. Plus, there’s this….” Sarah slides a piece of paper out of a folder and places it in front of me. It’s in my handwriting. It’s the note I wrote to Kelly the night of her death. These were my last words to her. She never got to read them. She was already dead when I wrote them.
I read the note to myself again.
Kelly,
It’s you. It hasn’t always been you, but it will always be you. You’re the words to a story I’ve been trying to write my whole life, and tonight I determined the ending.
Love you, Love me, Adam
P.S. The maid will be here at 9am. Please make sure you’re gone before then.
“What was that ending you had decided?” Sarah’s eyes are glossy.
I stutter trying to find the words but knowing I don’t want to reveal these words to her. But I have to tell her the truth. It’s the only way she can help me. “I had decided to leave you and be with her.”
Sarah’s expression doesn’t change. She looks at me and then drops her eyes to her notepad. Her lip quivers ever so slightly, and her eyes tighten. She takes a few notes.
“But I changed my mind. When you told me you wanted to have a baby and start a family with me, I decided I was going to end it with Kelly and I was going to be completely dedicated to you and our family.” I reach for her hand. She doesn’t reach out for mine. She shuffles around some papers.