When we reached the table, I turned to face them. As composed as Hudson usually was, I was surprised to see him viscerally react to the sight of the journals, as if their mere existence churned his stomach.
I know the feeling, bud.
It felt oddly reassuring to have that in common.
“I don't know if you had a plan about how to attack this,” I said, suddenly nervous. I tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “But I was thinking that you and I, Hudson, could each grab a journal and start reading through it. When we come to a name of someone involved in an experiment, we could record the name as well as any other details that may be important regarding the subject. Such as whether or not we believe they might still have hostile feelings toward you or me. Most of those references in the letters seemed vague, but if we come across anything that seems to possibly be referenced, then we can note that as well.”
It was a pretty straight-forward plan, one that removed Alayna from reading the journals, which was selfish on my part.
But they were, in fact, journals. They were private and terrible and not the kind of thing I ever wanted anyone reading. It had been bad enough when Edward had read them. He’d been enraged and disgusted. I couldn’t imagine the contempt Alayna would feel reading them, especially when she already hated me so intensely.
I would have thought Hudson would feel the same way, but when no one spoke, I wondered if I’d thought wrong. “If you have another plan…”
“No,” Hudson said. “This is good.” He removed his jacket and sat down to work.
I followed suit, taking a chair across from him.
“What should I do?” Alayna asked.
It wasn’t my place to keep her away from the journals. I looked to Hudson for that.
Thankfully, he seemed to be on the same page. “You can do the recording, Alayna. As Celia and I read, we will call out information. If you could track it and sort it, I think that would be the best use of your time.”
I worried momentarily that she might object to being kept on the sidelines. From what I knew of Alayna, she had always been headstrong and ready to buck against anyone who tried to hold her down.
But she surprised me, taking to the job enthusiastically and even setting up a shared spreadsheet on the laptop she’d brought.
We dug in then, working throughout the morning. It was difficult reading, as I’d expected it would be, but I concentrated on detaching myself from the stories I read, and that helped the process go smoother. We developed a sort of rhythm between the three of us, Hudson and I shouting out details, Alayna confirming them before entering them into her computer. It was a good process.
That wasn’t to say there wasn’t tension amongst us because there definitely was. It wove around us like the tight weave of a spiderweb, keeping us trapped in its sticky silk-like thread. The only time it broke was when Elsa brought Cleo. Alayna was a sucker for a baby, it turned out, and no one could remain somber around mine.
It was only a momentary reprieve. As soon as Cleo was burped and back with the nanny, the contention was back, worse than before. It didn’t just surround me, either. Alayna and Hudson bickered as well and eventually they excused themselves to take their clipped conversation to the hall.
Admittedly, I was pleased that, for once, their argument couldn’t be blamed on me since I’d been on my best behavior, which was probably petty, but also it was a big thing. I hadn’t ever spent time in a room with the two of them without scheming and plotting to turn them against one another. It was new for me, and as silly as it was, I took it as evidence of how far I’d come.
When Hudson returned, he came back alone. “It’s a little much for Alayna,” he said, vaguely. “We’re on our own for the afternoon.”
I held back a dozen snarky comments that came to mind. “Probably for the best. No one should have to deal with our shit except us.”
“Amen.”
If only my husband felt the same.
Reminding myself of my agenda for the day, I pushed the thought away. “I’ll call down and tell room service one less dish for lunch.”
When that was done, we resumed working, only breaking when our food arrived then quickly resuming when we’d finished. Our process had altered with Alayna’s absence. Now we took turns reading, the other recording on Hudson’s laptop. It was easier than it had been, despite being down one person. We both knew our stories so well that we could fill in the details that the other had read almost at the same time as they were recited out loud.
The tension was far less noticeable as well. In fact, there was almost a sense of camaraderie. Whatever our past sins, Hudson and I had committed them together. That created a bond between us that could never be broken, no matter what changed about us as individuals.
Maybe that’s why I’d been so quick to keep Hudson a secret, because we’d been linked like that. I was bound to protect him. Whatever Edward thought, he was wrong—I hadn’t chosen Hudson over him. I hadn’t made a choice at all.
Eventually, Hudson closed his laptop. “I think that’s enough for today.”
I looked at my phone. Almost five o’clock. Where had the time gone? “Did we figure anything out?”
He hesitated. “Not really. Did you?”
“No,” I answered honestly. Nothing we’d read connected to any of the letters Hudson had received, and I still was no closer to figuring out if Edward was involved. “We still have a few journals to go through.”
“Back at it tomorrow?”
“Of course.” He was about to stand when I stopped him. “Are you scared?”
“Of the person sending the letters?” He settled back in his chair. “Yes. I am. Someone is very angry, rightly so, I presume. Valid anger is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve encountered.”
I’d seen my husband use valid anger as a weapon. It had almost gotten me killed. I’d lived, but what about Camilla’s husband? I was sure Edward had killed him. Would he go that far with Hudson?
A chill ran down my spine. “I feel like I should tell you I’m sorry.”
Hudson seemed to assume my apology was for the past since his eyes scanned the journals laid out in front of us. “I was as much a part of this as you were.” He waited a beat. “Sometimes I’m not so sure I shouldn’t be apologizing to you.”
It was peculiar how the cold I’d felt a second ago could so quickly turn to warmth. I didn’t want an apology from Hudson, never had, but he’d considered it, and that meant something. Small that it might be, it was still something.
I flashed a brief smile. “It won’t do any good, for either of us, at this point.”
“No, I don’t believe it will.”
I stood as he did, planning to walk him to the door, but my thoughts were still tied up in the journals. “Should we be doing something? For all those people that we…” I couldn’t find the right words.
Hudson didn’t have that problem. “For our victims?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed, a heavy sigh that practically thudded with its weight. “I’ve tried, you know. I still try, when I find the opportunity. Try to make it up. Try to pay it back. Every token of retribution is selfishly a way to ease my own heart. It’s impossible to make up for those kinds of hurts. There’s no price that can be paid to fix someone that you’ve so utterly broken.”