don’t know if it’s too soon to discuss it,” he says, “but I have so many questions.”
“I don’t ever want to discuss it.”
He sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Morgan.”
I hate how he says my name. Full of disappointment. “What good would it do, Jonah? We don’t know why they were together. If we start dissecting it, we might find answers we don’t want.”
He squeezes his jaw. We sit in a stark, uncomfortable silence for an entire minute. Then, as if it’s a brand-new thought, Jonah’s eyes flicker to mine. “Where is Chris’s car?” Jonah can tell by the way I avert my eyes that this is something else I was trying to avoid. “He left here in his car that morning, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
I’ve been wondering where his car is, but I haven’t done anything about trying to locate it. I’m afraid of what the location might prove. I’d rather just not know where it is forever, rather than find out it’s parked at some hotel.
“Did he have OnStar?”
I nod. Jonah pulls out his cell phone and goes outside to make the phone call. I rush to the kitchen because I need a drink. I feel nauseated. I find the bottle of wine Jonah and Jenny brought over last week for my birthday. We never got around to opening it because we had a bottle leftover. I unscrew the cork and pour myself a glass.
The glass is almost empty when Jonah walks into the kitchen.
His face has completely drained of color, and I know with that one look that this isn’t good. My biggest fear is probably about to come true, and even though I don’t want to know, I still can’t help but ask.
I cover my mouth with a hesitant hand. “Where is it?” I whisper.
His face conveys his words before they even come out of his mouth. “It’s parked at the Langford.”
My hand drops from my mouth, and I clench my stomach. I must look like I’m about to faint because Jonah takes the glass of wine from my hand and sets it carefully on the counter.
“I called the hotel,” he continues. “They’ve been leaving voice mails on Chris’s phone. They said we can come get the keys and the stuff that was left in their room.”
Their room.
My sister and my husband’s hotel room.
“I can’t, Jonah.” My voice is a pained whisper.
His expression is sympathetic now. He puts his hands on my shoulders and dips his head. “You have to. His car will be towed tomorrow if we don’t pick it up tonight. You need his car, Morgan.”
My eyes are filled with tears. I press my lips together and nod. “Okay, but I don’t want to know what’s in the room.”
“That’s fine. You can drive Chris’s car home, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Chris and I stayed at the Langford once. It was our two-year anniversary, and it was before I had finally dropped out of college. He couldn’t take the time off his weekend job, so he booked us a Wednesday night. My mother kept Clara, and we spent the entire night in bed together. Sleeping.
It was heaven.
We were both exhausted from having a toddler and trying to finish school, so as soon as we got a moment of peace, we took advantage of it. We were only nineteen and twenty years old. Not even old enough to drink alcohol, but already tired enough to have been twice our age.
It eventually got to a point where day care was costing more than I was making at my part-time job, we were barely making ends meet, and the only logical solution at that time was for me to stay home with Clara. Chris said I could finish my degree after he finished his, but I never reenrolled. Once Chris found a job, the financial struggles subsided, and we fell into a comfortable routine.
I was content with my life. We both were, I thought. But maybe Chris was less content with his life than I assumed.
I’m sitting in Jonah’s car. We’re parked next to Chris’s SUV. Jonah got a key from the front desk and went inside the hotel room to find Chris’s car key. He’s been in there for five minutes. I lean my head back and close my eyes, saying a silent prayer. Hoping he’ll come tell me that whatever he found proved we’re way off base. But I already know. In my heart, I know that I’ve been betrayed in the worst way