And anyway, if I did give him the papers, what would he do?
Kim had known all that. She'd apologized. And, honest to God, she wasn't the one I was angry with. I promised myself that if Aubrey came back, I would tell him everything. I caught myself.
When. When Aubrey came back.
I took a shower, watched the talking heads on Fox News yell at each other, and waited for time to pass. Every five minutes, I reached for the phone to call Chogyi Jake and ask for a report. Every time, I restrained myself and tried to pull my attention back to something small and innocuous. Aubrey would be fine. It wasn't my fault he'd been taken. Just because he would never have been there except for me...
"I'm on my way back to the hotel now," he said. "It went... well enough."
"Okay," I said. "You need to explain that comment."
I could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke.
"Aubrey is himself again. But Marinette was very strong, and there was some violence. Ex doesn't need stitches, but he will need at least a day or two of rest. I suspect Aubrey will too. They're both asleep now. The house isn't fully warded."
"And we don't know where the kid is," I said. "And the bad guys have the little girl who sees through time or whatever. We're not in the best position. Check. But Aubrey's back?"
There was a hesitation, but it might only have been Chogyi Jake changing lanes.
"Yes," he said. "Aubrey's back."
"Okay," I said and the knot in my chest loosened. "Okay. I might be able to sleep after all."
"Try," Chogyi Jake said. "I'll stop by your room in the morning."
I looked at the bedside clock: 3:41.
"Not early," I said.
"Not early," he agreed. I dropped the connection and fell back into bed. I felt like shouting. By any rational, objective standard, we'd gotten our asses handed to us. Right then, it still felt like victory.
I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them, there was sunlight shining through the window and a Vietnamese maid apologizing in a voice that suggested it was my own fault for not putting up the DO NOT DISTURB sign. The lady had a point. I made some apologies of my own, which were much more sincere, hung the appropriate sign on the door, and made coffee. Until I saw the manila envelope where it had slipped to the floor in the night, I'd forgotten my little vow to the universe.
Aubrey was back. It was time.
Instantly, I came up with several excellent reasons not to. He'd just been through an ordeal; adding to it would upset him. There wasn't anything pressing about the divorce; I'd had the papers for months now, so what difference would a few more days make? Chogyi Jake was going to come and meet me, and it made more sense to wait until I had the straight skinny on the night's events.
I told myself that it made more sense to wait. Until it was easier. Until he was ready or I was ready or some cosmic alignment made everything easy. Until the mythical perfect time that never quite seemed to be today.
I looked into the coffee cup, as if it might have an opinion. The French press left a bright layer of oil on top of the darkness that seemed lush and decadent, but not particularly eloquent.
"Just go," I said. "Put it in your pack, and go to his room. If he's too blasted,