“Because I failed at making her feel that way?”
“No one could make her feel whole, Jeremiah. She was looking for something she was never going to find.”
It was as if Jeremiah’s history was a puzzle.
Each day, new pieces appeared, and he found where they fit. Each night, he reported the new memories to Remy.
By mid-November, two months after Remy had rescued him, many of the puzzle pieces regarding Alexis had slotted into place.
After their marriage, she’d become hard to please. She had her own work as an influencer and plenty to fill her schedule. Even so, she was jealous of his time. No matter how much of it he gave her, it wasn’t enough. She’d married a man who traveled to races for a living, but sometimes she didn’t want him to go. When he’d remind her she could go with him, she’d say she was sick of plane flights and hotels and hotel food.
She’d started picking fights with him. Afterward, she’d give him the silent treatment for days. Then she’d apologize, buy him presents, and wrap herself around him. Things would be mostly fine again.
Eventually, though, the bad facets of their marriage began to overshadow the good. He’d taken to reminding himself of her best qualities on repeat. Her generosity. Her chops as a businesswoman. Her ability to move smoothly in the lowest and the highest circles.
About a year and a half into his marriage, he'd happened to open Instagram on a flight home. Alexis lived and breathed social media. He did not. He’d had a few accounts from the start of his professional driving career, but the Mercedes marketing team had handled almost all of the work and time associated with those accounts. There were too many comments and tags to keep up with, plus most of it was too idiotic to bother with. He looked at it only rarely. On that flight, however, he’d typed a hashtag followed by his name into the search bar, then flicked through several of the posts that appeared.
The usual. Posts from fans. Haters. More fans. But then a picture had caused him to stop, his thumb frozen on the screen.
The picture showed Alexis with another man. She was walking with her hand on his bent arm and wearing clothes he recognized—recent clothes.
Frowning, he read the caption.
#JeremiahCamden, just checking if you know that your lady is out with some guy who ain’t you.
His gut had turned into a ball of cold metal.
At that point, he and Alexis had been in a good place for a whole month. She was content. No arguments. He’d been congratulating himself, relieved. But looking at that photo it had occurred to him that he wasn’t the one making her content. She was content because of this man, in the picture.
When he’d reached home, she’d denied it. An explanation had rolled off her tongue. She’d said the man in the picture was gay, an employee of a clothing brand she was partnering with on an upcoming campaign. Every word had sounded convincing.
It would have been easiest to believe her. But his instincts wouldn’t let him.
He’d thought about the picture for days. He’d watched her. He’d looked through her physical things as well as her phone, computer, iPad. He’d found nothing suspicious. Which is when he’d called his father and told him he needed the name of a PI without explaining the reason why. Just as he’d expected, Felix had been able to recommend a PI. Fred Kimley.
Kimley’s first report had cracked their marriage and Jeremiah's heart. He’d been shocked and disgusted. Betrayed.
Quitting, though, wasn’t in his nature, just look at his driving record. He’d never have earned a square inch of success if he hadn’t been so dogged, so stubbornly motivated in the face of defeat. He was loyal—which explained why he'd driven for the same team his whole career. And he was old-fashioned enough not to want to break the vows he’d spoken to Alexis on their wedding day.
She’d begged him for a second chance and—ultimately—he’d given her one. They’d seen a therapist.
There had been times, after her affair, when it seemed like everything might be okay. And times when it seemed all was lost.
If she didn’t accompany him to a race, he’d wonder what she was doing while he was away, a nauseous feeling low in his torso.
They’d spent the off-season after the affair in Maine. He’d hoped downtime in one place, together, would help them.
But then in the spring of last year, she’d started going out several nights a week. She began taking trips when he was at home. Most damning of all, she’d been overly sweet toward him, suspiciously content. Grim, he’d hired Kimley a second time. While he’d waited on Kimley’s report, he’d existed in the same house with Alexis—not sleeping together, not connecting. Beneath his calm façade, resentment simmered. He’d known that, if he received proof of another affair, their marriage would be over.
While he’d been waiting for the second report from Kimley, one night in June, she’d told him she was going to dinner with friends. She hadn’t come home. Nor had she answered her phone. His initial reaction had been anger because he’d concluded that she was with her lover and that she’d arrive home with a slick cover story.
Once she’d been gone twenty-four hours, though, he’d been unsure how to feel or what to do. A normal husband would feel worried. He didn’t feel worried, but hewasa husband, so he’d called her friends. When that led nowhere, he’d called her family. They’d been terrified. It became clear that none of the people close to her knew where she was. At that point, he’d contacted the police.
The next morning, Jeremiah had received Kimley’s second report. While the PI had been unable to name the man she was having an affair with, it was clear Alexishadbeen engaged in another affair, exactly as Jeremiah had suspected.
Later that same day, a boater on Megunticook Lake spotted her body.
He’d wanted to divorce her, but he hadneverwanted her dead. She was young and healthy. The greatest portion of her life should have been before her and that future should have been bright.
