had diamonds the same size, or bigger—but here, in the small office, with its plain yellow walls and leafy potted plants, and the tiny fish in the tiny aquarium, and the pictures of Derek with another woman on the computer screen, the ring seems like a joke. It’s huge. Flashy. Expensive. Which is what Marin wanted, wasn’t it? For everyone to know how well they were doing, how fortunate, how—and she hates this word in particular—blessed?
She’s tempted to take her diamond ring off and toss it into the fish tank. Her eyes are stinging, and she blinks rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. She stares at the photo of Derek and his lover, the images blurring through her tears, turning into a mess of colors and shapes that don’t make sense.
“I have to take this,” Castro says suddenly. Marin turns away from the computer screen to find the PI holding her cell phone. She didn’t hear it ring. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The office door closes behind her. Marin doesn’t hear her speaking in the waiting room, which has a receptionist’s desk but no receptionist. She realizes after a few seconds that there is no phone call. Castro is giving her client some time alone to react, to fall apart if she needs to. It’s kind of her, but Marin isn’t going to fall apart. At least not right now. She’s good at faking it. She knows she can quash it until she gets home, where she can lose it in private, without anyone watching, with her pills and a bottle of wine.
Marin got cocky. It’s the only explanation. Especially once she had Sebastian, after four difficult rounds of IVF. She’d been given too much—too much money, too much success, too much love from her husband and child—so the universe set out to correct that imbalance of abundance by taking the one thing from her that meant anything.
Her son.
Numbness is beginning to set in, and she’s grateful for it. She knows from experience that humans can only tolerate intense emotional pain for so long before things begin to dull. It’s the body’s way of coping, and it isn’t so much relief as it is a reprieve. The pain will be back. Marin will feel every ounce of it later, and when she does, she’ll wash it down with a Xanax and a bottle of cab sauv before it gets too bad.
The office door opens again.
“I’m back.” Castro drops into her seat. Marin notices, and not for the first time, how slim she is. A size 4, maybe even a 2. Marin’s never been that tiny. Not even when she was sixteen and bulimic.
The PI looks at her closely. Marin knows she looks fine, and she wonders if the other woman is judging her for it. Is it more acceptable for her to be a basket case than to handle all this information about Derek like a champ? She wants Castro to like her. Marin wants her to feel for her, but not feel sorry for her.
She’s never done well with other people’s pity, especially other women. She does, on the other hand, crave their validation. She suspects it comes from having a mother who was really hard on her, right up until the day she died.
“I put a small file together for you, if you want to look at it when you get home.” Castro types something. “I just emailed it to you.”
Marin’s phone vibrates a few seconds later. She pulls it out of her pocket and checks to make sure the file opens properly. She taps on it and it downloads. “Got it,” she says.
“I want to be honest with you.” For the first time since they met, Castro looks upset. “When I got these photos yesterday, I wasn’t even sure I should tell you about it. It isn’t what you hired me for, and I thought it might be possible that you already knew about the affair. I didn’t want to make it awkward. You’re already dealing with a lot.”
“You did the right thing,” Marin says. “I was clear with you at the beginning, and I asked you to tell me everything you discovered. Don’t feel bad. I’d rather know. I … I can’t deal with any more unknowns.”
Castro exhaled. “Okay. That’s what I figured.”
She catches the PI glancing at her watch. That must be it for today, then. Marin finishes the second bottle of water, then reaches for her coat. It feels like she’s moving