“Thank you for not coming up to the house,” Vincent said, after they’d both gotten out to stand between the cars—under a sky so dark that a few more feet of distance and they wouldn’t have been able to make out each other’s faces. “I told Jemima I was heading out to have a quick drink with you, said you sounded down about the lack of progress on the disappearance.”
Will didn’t care what lies Vincent had told his wife; he was already well aware the man was a better liar than any of them had ever expected. “I know you had an affair with Miriama.”
Smart enough to read the situation, Vincent didn’t feign shock. “She was the most honest thing in my entire life,” he murmured. “If I’d known who she’d grow up to be to me, I would’ve never married Jemima.” He dropped his gaze to the ground. “Back then, I thought it was time to get the right kind of wife, create the right kind of family, begin building the profile that would help me advance in politics.”
When he looked up, his eyes shimmered with wetness. “That’s what I’ve always done—the right thing, or the right thing as mandated by whoever it is that decides the rules. In my case, that happened to be my parents.”
A mocking smile. “They wanted the perfect son and I was happy to give them one. It was easy when I had no other passion in my life—not like Anahera with her music or Nikau with his academics, or even Daniel with his lust for money. Following my parents’ script gave me direction.”
“How did it start with Miriama?” Will took nothing Vincent said at face value. The other man’s tears could be window dressing, his anguish perfectly pitched to arouse Will’s sympathies. It was also equally possible that Vincent had been deeply in love with Miriama and unable to stand her rejection.
Vincent blew out a shuddering breath. “It began the first time I saw her after she went from being a girl to a woman.” Gritty words. “It took me two months to build up the courage to speak to her about anything but how I liked my coffee, even longer before I dared kiss her. I was terrified the entire time that she’d slap my face and tell me I was reaching above myself, but my beautiful Miriama never did that. She loved me as much as I loved her.”
“What about Dominic de Souza?” Will had deliberately thrown in the question cold, with no buildup; he wanted to see Vincent’s unvarnished reaction.
He wasn’t disappointed.
Hands fisting, Vincent spun on his heel to stalk down the narrow space between the two cars and all the way to the tree line. He stood staring out into the pitch dark for at least two long minutes after Will joined him before he spoke. “He’s not good enough for her. He’s promised her a life of travel and adventure. But what his small mind conceives as travel and adventure will bore her within the space of a year.”
“Did you offer better?”
Vincent turned, his face haggard. “I should have. But, heaven help me, I didn’t.” Legs crumpling, he fell to his knees. “I should’ve said to hell with political aspirations and the perfect ‘family man’ image and just divorced Jemima. Only then… I would’ve had Miriama, but I would’ve lost the chance to watch my children grow up. My wife would’ve fought tooth and nail for sole custody and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to prove that she’s always been the main parent.”
Dropping his head into his hands, Vincent choked back a sob. “But dear God,” he said afterward, his voice rough, “much as I love my children, not breaking up my marriage so I was free to be with Miriama is the biggest regret of my life. If anything’s happened to her, if I’ve wasted my one chance at true happiness, I’ll never forgive myself.”
It was a believable performance, but conversely, Will had once believed that Vincent was a happily married man with a wife he appreciated, even if they didn’t appear to share a passionate love. Today, however, he’d heard a disturbing offhandedness in Vincent’s voice when he spoke of Jemima, as if she was no more than an unwanted piece of furniture.
Which opened up a whole other can of worms. “Does Jemima know?”
Vincent wiped away his tears and struggled to his feet. “No, of course not.”