“Something private.”
“Uh…” I frown in the darkness. The only sound surrounding us is the vibration of our tires on the road. The hum of a smooth engine. The scream of the cicadas outside. And because of her short, sharp response, I’m treated to the sound of my pulse growing in my ears. “Like…?”
“I won’t lie and say we spoke about nothing, and I don’t intend to make up a story just to get you off my back.” She hugs my arm and releases a long, heavy sigh. “If she wanted you to know, she would have told you. She didn’t, so my hands are tied.”
“But I’m your husband.” I cup her chin in my palm and loathe the pure logic in her response. If she lied, we could at least fight about it. If she evaded, I could nag. “Isn’t there a rule about secret keeping in marriage? It was in our vows.”
“I’m keepinghersecret.” Elongating her neck, she puckers her lips and presses a kiss to the edge of my jaw. “It would mean a lot to me if you didn’t pry. I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t want to lie. We’ve already fought over secrets this year, because I was afraid telling the truth would hurt us.” She lies against my shoulder again. “It backfired and hurt us a lot. I don’t want a repeat of that, especially when the lesson we learned was that we trusted each other. Explicitly. Faultlessly.”
“You’re being entirely too logical about this. How is it possible you’ve dissolved our argument before it even began, especially when it’s…” I glance at the dash in the front. “Two-thirty-five in the fuckin’ morning?”
She releases a soft, serene exhale. “Probably because I’m way too tired for anything else. I’ve given you as much information as I can, and now I’m erecting a boundary. Please don’t try to skip across it.”
“Are you in danger?”
She cuddles into my side, wrapping her arms around mine. “No.”
“Is anyone we care about in danger?”
She kisses the ball of my shoulder. “No.”
“If I ever found out whatever Soph wanted to discuss, would we be okay? Would our marriage be alright?”
She considers, sleepily snuggling closer and slow blinking as the hour drags her toward unconsciousness. For every second she hesitates, my stomach grows heavier. For every moment her silence creates doubt, my heart aches. My brain thumps. My eyes burn. My entire fucking soul quivers.
But then she nods, releasing me from my turmoil. “Yes. We would be fine.” Tilting her head back, she peeks up at me through tired eyes. “Can we drop it? I want to go to bed so friggin’ bad.”
No. Fuck no! Tell me, please, I’m begging you.
But none of that passes my lips. Instead, I rest my cheek against the top of her head. “Okay. Did you have fun today?”
She snorts. “I’ve been awake since four o’clock yesterday morning. I almost got into a fistfight with my makeup artist, told my hairstylist to piss off, but not before she sprayed every single hair down on the top ofmy head. Oh, and I choked on my own foot with the Raquel thing…” She grows heavier against my side, her short, manicured nails stroking my wrist in the shadows. “Sure. It was fun. I especially liked the part when I orgasmed.”
“Just doing my husbandly duties. How’s your knee?”
“Fine.” She releases a long, noisy yawn that has our driver’s eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. “I wonder how Steve is doing? This is his first night outside the hospital since his heart attack, and I wasn’t even there for it.”
“He’s in good hands. Mary is entirely capable of caring for him, and she knows how—”Tightly wound. “—worried you are. She’s been sending regular updates since they left.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. Arrived at the house hours ago. He was able to shower on his own, while Mary remained nearby. He got changed into fresh clothes, allowed Mary to shave his stubble, since it had been a few days. He had a snack around ten and his medication, as per the schedule. Now he’s hooked up to some pretty cool heart monitoring technology, so if his pulse so much as stumbles even once, she—and I, and you, too, if you want—will receive an alert.”
“Yes, please. I want the alerts.”
Of course you do.
Her eyes flicker closed as we slow by the front gates guarding the home my father once waged a war from. I never thought I’d want to sleep here. Thought it would slam me with bad karma or some shit. But my old man knew security and luxury, and if my options are to leave my wife susceptible to bad weather and potential threats, or bring her here, knowing she’ll be forever safe…
“Will he wear the monitor during the day, too?” she murmurs. “Or just at nighttime?”
“Uh… I’m not sure.” I study the four-story house as we wind closer, the massive double-story windows at the front, illuminated from the inside and spilling light onto the courtyard and steps. The back, where Steve’s room is located, sits amongst the shadows. “I think the plan was that he’d wear it at night, so Mary could rest, knowing he would be okay while she was off duty. It wasn’t necessary during the day. But if you ask him to wear it around the clock, he might oblige.”
“Can we insert it like a microchip in his neck?”
Surprised, I bring my attention back around, only to get caught up in her wide, glittering eyes and a beautifully sly smirk.
“We don’t even have to tell him. A little propofol to put him to sleep, a fast slice, barely five millimeters long. Slip the chip in. Probably won’t even need sutures. Just a Band-Aid.”
