Back in the kitchen, sunlight spilled in from the large windows. Everything felt too bright. The air smelled like old coffee and lemon cleaning spray.
Hudson came charging in through the back door, holding Rascal’s crate in one hand and his phone in the other. His face had cracked wide open with panic. “Good God!” he said, his breath short. “Is everyone all right? What happened?”
The monster,the woman’s voice echoed in my head.
She’d said it wasn’t Daniel. But what about Hudson? I scanned him as he stood there holding Rascal’s crate, his cheeks flushed, his hand shaking. Inside the crate, the little dog lay curled on a blanket, fast asleep. The man in front of me had just risked his life to save an old dog. How could he be the monster she’d warned me about?
I sank into one of the kitchen chairs, my arms on the table, my head in both hands. The air buzzed with voices: Tara’s, Hudson’s, the officer’s. All of them were talking about what had happened. Talking about me.
“Ma’am?” the officer asked, his voice cutting through the fog of humiliation and self-doubt.
I looked up, blinking.
“Do you feel safe here?”
I paused, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Is there anybody you can talk to? Like a therapist?” he asked.
I nodded slowly, remembering that my first appointment with the new therapist was actually today.
“You’re not gonna hurt yourself or anybody else?” he asked next.
“No.” The word scraped against the back of my throat.
“Ma’am?”
“No,” I repeated, loud and clear.
“All right,” the officer said after a pause. “You take it easy for a bit, okay? These folks here’ll take good care of you, all right?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The officer stepped outside and spoke quietly with Hudson and Tara for a moment longer. Then he left, and Tara and Hudson walked back in.
For a moment, the kitchen felt frozen in time. No one moved. The only sound was the clock on the wall, each tick landing sharp and steady—tick, tock, tick, tock.
“Emily—” Tara started gently.
I stood before she could say more. “I’m a bit tired. I’ll wait for Daniel upstairs.”
“Yes, of course,” Hudson replied quickly.
“I’ll bring up some food and tea,” Tara offered, her voice all warmth.
“I’ll try calling Daniel again,” Hudson added. “He didn’t pick up earlier. The meeting.”
“Yes. Thank you. But can you wait until after his meeting? He doesn’t need to leave early for my drama.”
I’d already stepped into the hallway when I heard Hudson’s voice behind me—low, a little hesitant. He said the intense summer heat could mess with people. That he wasn’t feeling quite right today, either. It was kind, an effort to build something gentler out of what had happened. Like we were all trying to sand the edges off a sharp, ugly, embarrassing truth.
That I’d finally lost it.
But no matter how much we tried to round it off, facts were facts. The thought of Daniel coming back to find me like this...It made my stomach twist. I hated it. Hated myself for it.
I let my body drop onto the soft bed upstairs and stared out the wide window. The sky was a flat sheet of blue, cloudless and bright. Too calm. Too peaceful. It didn’t match anything I felt.
Here I was, the crazy wife.
