Graham closed the distance between us and hugged me, resting his cheek on my head. “I don’t know. I just … don’t know.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Not true.” He kissed my forehead. “You can have your pick of bedrooms. Even mine. I promise to be on my best behavior.”
I pulled away and shook my head. “I need to be alone.”
“Of course. Come on.” He took my hand and led me up the stairs. “You probably don’t want to sleep in Lila’s room. It’s been cleaned, including the sheets. But you could grab something to wear from her closet.”
“Night,” I barely managed that one word.
As I started to pull away from him, he tightened his grip. I glanced down at his hand squeezing mine before meeting his gaze.
“We’ll get through this. Together. I’m always here for you.”
I tried to form a smile, but my face refused to cooperate. Widows didn’t smile. After he released my hand, I headed toward Lila’s room and Graham padded his bare feet in the other direction.
Turning on the light, I shut and locked Lila’s bedroom door. Everything was in its place. The bedding crisp and void of a single wrinkle. Vacuum lines in the carpet like it had recently been cleaned. Even fresh flowers in a vase on her nightstand. It didn’t look like the room of a woman who physically abused her husband and left without a word.
Too tired to look for something to sleep in, I tossed the three-deep layer of pillows from her bed and tugged down the comforter and sheets that the housekeeper tucked into each side military-style. As I started to climb into her bed, my gaze snagged on something barely peeking out from under the mattress. Lifting the edge of the mattress, I pulled out a black leather-bound book.
A journal.
I opened it and quickly flipped through the pages, not reading a single word. Lila loved journaling when we were younger. Organizing her thoughts helped her deal with so much grief. Setting it on the nightstand, I clicked the light remote and buried myself under the covers.
It took one … one single second for reality to hit.
It was real. It was my life. That man with the gun was my husband.
“Roe …” I whispered closing my eyes. “Why did you leave me?” My heart ached so much; I knew it would never beat the same way again.
Would Franz and Anya ever forgive me for not saving him? I hoped so. Maybe one day I would explain what happened to him, how he tried to be a superhero, and how he discovered he wasn’t immortal. How I discovered I couldn’t rescue him anymore because he was destroying me.
Franz and Anya. I thought only of them in the final seconds before I turned and left Ronin alone in the kitchen. They needed me. I saved the very best of my husband, the very best of me because I chose them.
After tossing and turning, rubbing my aching chest, and wiping tears all over the pillow, I sat up, unable to breathe well. Flipping on the light again, I crossed my legs and practiced slowing my breathing, taking in long breaths and letting them out slowly. Glancing over at the nightstand, I stared at the journal for a few seconds.
Yes. Reading her journal felt like a violation of her privacy. I never read her journals when we were younger. But she crossed a line with Ronin. Her privacy no longer meant that much to me.
Praises for her new husband filled the first part of her journal. I didn’t care to read every word, every detail about their life—some details were about their sex life. I skipped ahead. She expressed frustration with her role as First Lady. I could have predicted that. Skipping ahead again, I read a few opening lines of another entry, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop because I couldn’t believe the words on the page.
I feel so stupid. So blind. So trapped.
He manipulates me. It’s not rough sex. It’s not a physical need. At least … not anymore. I blindly fell for his excuses because he hurt me during sex. He justifies it. He makes me feel like my orgasm rights any sort of wrongs. It always leaves me confused because I love Graham. I love our intimacy, and sometimes I love the intensity, even when a little pain is the price to pay for pleasure. My desire to please him blinds me.
Today, everything changed. It’s not a fetish or a preference. It’s a sickness. Only a sick man breaks his wife’s nose because she playfully grabbed his phone when he wouldn’t give her his attention. I wanted him to notice me, my new white dress. Now, that white dress is in the trash, covered in blood.
“Oh my god …” I whispered as my tears fell to the pages. It didn’t stop. So much detail. I remembered her broken nose. It was shortly after I found out I was pregnant with Franz.
Ronin … I feel so responsible. I should have died on that mountain. I wanted to die. Why did he try to save me? I didn’t want to be saved. How am I still here? …
“Lila …” I whispered. It wasn’t an accident that day. She went in the wrong direction on purpose. My friend. How did I not see it?
The bruises are getting hard to hide …
Graham called me Evelyn during sex …
I thought about ending my life today, but I don’t want to add to Evelyn’s stress. Her mom is not well. She needs me …
My biggest dream became my worst nightmare when the pregnancy test came back positive …
I can’t even breathe. I told Graham about the baby. He said I had to get rid of it. I said no. He got rid of the baby. The bleeding stopped two days ago, but I still have the bruises. He was right. We can’t have children.
It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Ronin wasn’t dead. And Graham didn’t kill his own child. Things like that only happened in horror movies. Only fictional characters could be that monstrous.
It just … wasn’t real.
Pages. So many pages of awful, gruesome, heartbreaking detail.
Ronin hugged me and he said it made his pain go away. It made mine go away too …
I had to find an excuse for my bruises … so now I have leukemia.
“Jesus …” My hand flew to my mouth. I could barely read the words through my tears. It wasn’t real. I pleaded with any god who would listen to me, begging for it to not be real.
Evie told me Graham gave her the Clean Art building. He loves her. I wonder if he ever loved me …
Ronin needed me again today. It feels incredible to be needed. Evelyn is so lucky …
Graham has sex with me when I don’t want it. That’s rape. I think. I’m not sure. I don’t think his sick mind understands what he’s doing, and I don’t know how to help him …
I just want to die …
I shaved my head to look the part of a leukemia patient. Graham hit me. He thinks I’m ugly now. How did this happen to me? …
Ronin made me feel beautiful today. I felt something for him I should not feel. I think it did something to him. He felt tortured when he felt my desire for him. I can’t imagine what it must be like to feel two people at once. Nothing happened. We love Evelyn.
I sobbed thinking of what I always told Graham. We love Lila more.
The pages were never ending, the revelations dizzying.
I walked in on Graham masturbating to a video of him and Evie having sex. It shattered me. There are no real words to describe my level of brokenness. The complete desolate feeling of betrayal by the person I loved more than anyone in this world.