“Oh, no, of course not.”
“People like us, we have to look out for ourselves.”
“I looked out for you,” he said. “You were mine for twelve years, and even when I was in prison it was only you, so, for me, it was seventeen years of you being mine, Alicia. I worried about you. Cared for you. Loved you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You’re sorry? I spent five years in prison and had my entire reputation destroyed, and you’re sorry.”
“I want you back.” She shook her head. “I know it sounds insane. But I... I’m miserable.”
“You’re broke,” he spat. “And you’re afraid of what I’m going to do.”
The way she looked up at him, the slight flash of anger in her eyes before it was replaced by that dewy innocence, told him he was definitely on the right track. “I don’t have money, I’m not going to lie to you.”
“And yet, that’s a nice car.”
She shrugged. “I have what I have. I can hardly be left without a vehicle. And I was your wife for all that time, you’re right. And that’s basically all I was, Levi. I enhanced your image, but being your wife didn’t help me figure out a way to earn the kind of money you did, and now no one will touch me with a ten-foot pole. My reputation is completely destroyed.”
“Forgive me for not being overly concerned that you faking your death has left you without a lot of options.”
“In fairness, I didn’t fake my death. I disappeared. That the police thought I was dead is hardly my fault.”
“Alicia, are you honestly telling me you thought I would say I wanted you back?”
“Why not? You want a redemption story, and getting back with me would benefit us both. I don’t think either of us were ever head over heels in love with each other. We both wanted things from the other. And you know it. Don’t go getting on your high horse now. We can come back. You don’t need to be vindictive,” she said.
“I don’t need to be vindictive?” He shook his head. “This, from you?”
She was standing in front of him, imploring him to rescue her. That was what she wanted. For him to reach down to lift her out of this hell of her own making.
It was this exact moment when he knew he had her under his heel. He could take her in, make her think he was going along with her plan and maybe get some information about what exactly she had done that was illegal, and get the exact kind of revenge he wanted. Or, if not that, he could finish it now, devastate her.
And then what?
That question echoed inside him, hollow and miserable.
Then what?
What was on the other side of it? What was feeding all that anger, all that hatred?
Where was the freedom? Where was the reward? Nothing but an empty house filled with reminders of Faith, but without the woman herself inside it.
Somehow, he had a vision of himself standing by a jail cell holding a key. And he knew that whatever he decided to do next was the deciding factor. Did he unlock the door and walk out, or did he throw the keys so far away from himself he would never be able to reach them again?
Faith was right.
He had been given a life sentence, but he didn’t have to submit to it.
Faith.
He had been looking for satisfaction in this. Had been looking for satisfaction in revenge. In hatred.
And maybe there was satisfaction there. Something twisted and dirty, the kind of satisfaction his father would have certainly enjoyed.
But there was another choice. There was another path.
It was hope.
