you with her. You had a broken heart when you got back into the car this morning. I knew then that you would never send her away if you didn’t believe she was safer somewhere else. Somewhere without you. I…” He squinted, like he was trying to see something clearly a long way away. “Look, I’ve already decided to recuse myself from your case no matter what.”
“What?” I reared. “I thought you were the only one who—”
“Derek and I have been making some contacts with the Newark PD and in Connecticut. Even here in Massachusetts. There are a few other white hats out there.” He shook his head, thinking. “I think it’s fair to say that if you did decide to turn yourself in, the DA is likely to grant you a pretty small plea deal. You’ll be forgiven pretty quickly, especially if you offer evidence against your husband.”
“Can I do that?” I asked. “I thought you said he would claim spousal privilege anyway about anything I said.”
“All bets are off if you’re an accessory or co-conspirator,” Matthew said. “But I still think you’ll be forgiven quickly. You might even be able to negotiate immunity, given everything you know.”
“And you?” I was almost afraid to ask. He was still so far away, on the opposite side of the bed from me. “Would you forgive me?”
He was quiet for a good while, making no move to reconnect. Every second that passed felt like a dagger to my heart.
“You promise that’s it?” he said finally. “That’s everything you know?”
I nodded, suddenly desperate for his touch. “Yes. Matthew, yes, I promise.”
“Nina,” he said. “If you tell me the truth, I’d forgive every mortal sin in the book.” Slowly, he reached out and took my hand, then placed a reverent kiss over my knuckles.
I melted, then pulled on his hand, urging him close again. Light shined within us both. This would be a hard road ahead for both of us. But if Matthew was there to support me, even if it was just with a small kiss like this, I knew I could do it.
“Come back to bed,” I said, tugging on his arm. “Please. I need you.”
He leaned in to kiss me again. But just as it was deepening into something much more, it was his phone that buzzed this time on the floor, still in his pants pocket.
Matthew swore. “I’d better get that. If someone’s messaging this late, it’s important.”
But, apparently, it wasn’t. Matthew stood up and shoved his legs into his pants as he read the text on his phone. Immediately, he swiped through and brought the phone to his ear.
“Derek, it’s almost two in the—” he started to snap, but then stopped, eyes popped open. He then turned to me as he covered the mouthpiece. “I’ll be right back, okay? And then…we’ll come up with a plan, baby. I promise.”
I lay back down in the bed, wondering just why everyone we knew wanted to contact us in the wee hours of the morning. Eventually, though, my mind wandered. Back to the house in Newton, or maybe a red brick house in the middle of Brooklyn. To Olivia swinging by Matthew’s arms in a green backyard or nearby park. And maybe another dark-eyed baby nestled to my breast, cooing while we watched his beautiful father laughing in the sun.
I closed my eyes, and for the first time in many years, really let myself dream.
But dreams, as they say, aren’t real. And mine died almost as quickly as they were born.
The bedroom door banged open, and I turned to find Matthew striding in with a face full of fire.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up once more. “Is everything all right? Is Derek okay?”
Matthew snatched his shirt off the ground and began violently shoving his arms into it. “You. Fucking. Liar.”
I recoiled, almost as if I’d been struck. “What? Matthew, w-what are you talking about?”
He snatched his tie off the ground, scowled at it, then shoved it into his pocket. “I’m talking about the fact that your shitty house in Newton wasn’t the only place you visited on Sunday, was it? Derek just finished going through a ridiculous number of files sent over from the Hartford PD. Surprise, sweetheart. You’re on camera.”
He held out his phone, and I watched a video that looked eerily familiar. There was my Volvo, pulling up in front of a different New England house. And there, of course, was me, walking up the drive, knocking on the door,