What has he done? They haven’t had sex since the twins were born. Is that what this is about? She waits.
‘You know I told you that my previous wife, Lindsey’ – now tears are coming into his eyes – ‘died in a car accident.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice is uncertain. She can’t imagine what he’s about to say next.
‘I didn’t tell you everything.’
She goes absolutely still, staring at him.
His face has gone pale. ‘I never told you because … it was my fault.’
Oh, dear God. Her entire body tightens, as if for a blow. This is coming at her out of the blue; she’s not prepared for it.
He sags further into the kitchen chair. ‘I have to tell you what happened.’
‘Okay,’ she says.
‘It was winter,’ he begins. ‘There was a storm. We were going to visit her mother. There was so much snow. I didn’t want to go, but she insisted …’ His face is anguished and he stops, as if he can’t go on.
It’s difficult for her to look at him in such obvious, raw pain. ‘You were driving?’ she whispers. Even the babies are quiet now, as if they can sense the tension in the room.
He shakes his head. ‘No. We never got off the street.’
She doesn’t understand. He’s not making sense.
‘She got in the car to get warm. Lindsey was always so impatient. I told her to wait inside the house, but she came out before I was done. I didn’t know it was dangerous.’ He swallows.
‘What was dangerous?’ she asks, confused.
He takes a deep breath. ‘I had to shovel out the car. It was taking a long time because the snow was almost up to the roof. She was so desperate to visit her mother and her sister.’ He hesitates. ‘She was finding it hard, being away from her family – she was eight months pregnant – and I was working such long hours.’
Stephanie feels her stomach turn. She hadn’t known his wife had been pregnant when she died. She steels herself for the rest.
‘She wouldn’t stay inside. It was very cold. I told her to go back in the house, but she got in the car. And I just kept shovelling – I had no idea that the exhaust pipe was plugged with snow, that carbon monoxide was getting into the car – killing her.’ He chokes back a sob.
Stephanie gapes at him in horror, but he doesn’t meet her eyes.
‘When – when I finished, I put the shovel away and went up and got the bags from the apartment and locked everything up. I put the bags in the boot. And then I opened the driver’s-side door.’ He pauses, and it looks to Stephanie like he can’t catch his breath. ‘At first I thought Lindsey was just asleep.’ He glances at her, and quickly looks away. ‘But then suddenly it struck me that she didn’t look right somehow, that she didn’t look normal. I grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her, but her head just fell forward. And – I knew she was dead. I started to scream. I lost my mind for a minute. I backed out of the car, screaming for help, fumbling for my cell phone. I called 911. Some of the neighbours came running out. I was hysterical – I don’t remember much more than that, other than people dragging Lindsey out of the car and lying her down on the snow. Someone did CPR on her. The paramedics got there really fast, but it was too late. She was declared dead. The baby too.’
He puts his head in his hands and says, ‘If I’d only known what was happening. If I’d checked on her first, before putting the shovel away, going upstairs to get the luggage—’ He collapses into ragged sobs.
Stephanie stirs herself out of her shock and goes to Patrick, putting her arms around him. She doesn’t know what to say. She watches him break down, his face in his hands. The babies start to cry too. She’s numb. She had no idea. No idea that he’d been carrying this awful burden the whole time that she’s known him. She clasps him in her arms as he sobs, his body heaving. ‘Shhhhh,’ she whispers, holding him tight. It’s the saddest thing she’s ever heard. She can’t even imagine –
‘It was an accident,’ she whispers, holding him tight until his body stops trembling. She has never seen him like this, in such inconsolable grief. As if he’s been torn apart.
He