“I—” Her grip grew even tighter. She trembled from the strain. “Ne—” She shook her head. “No. I need more time.”
“Tell me. Now, Scarlett.”
It took every ounce of strength for her to hold on to me, I knew, but she did. Brave. She was always so brave and so strong.
“All right,” I said, knowing my next words were going to burn like fucking fire. “Let’s bargain.”
“Bargain?”
“Yeah, like we did for Ace. If you give me the truth, I’ll give you something in return.”
“Lay it out.”
“In return for the truth, I give you my word that I’ll do whatever you ask of me, given that if it’s something I need to take care of, you’ll have your time, but I’ll have a day.”
“All right.”
The room stilled. The gentle, smooth flight of the plane kept us level, and the whirring of the engine filled the empty space.
“He hit me,” she whispered. She hurried to tell me what happened.
“Oh God,” she said, pulling me closer, kissing my shoulders, when I didn’t move. She kept mumbling things.
I couldn’t hear her. A deafening siren wailed in my ears. Lightning charged through my blood. My heart became as hard as stone, slamming against my ribs. Trapped. I was a caged animal, not able to react. Not able to do anything but trap the rage inside. I was cornered inside the plane.
I hadn’t realized that I stood, moved away from her, until she called my name. My forehead rested against the door, my fists on each side of my head. My entire body shook with spasms.
At some level area, where thought could still be processed, her words made complete sense. Why she had wanted to disappear on an island with no way out. She wanted to trap me there before she told me.
“Brando. I’m sorry. Oh God. I am so sorry.”
“Sorry? Did you just say thatyouare sorry?”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” My voice didn’t even sound like my own. It echoed inside of my head. “If you apologize again, I’ll lose whatever sense I have left.”
“Look at me, Brando.”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t find it in myself to move or to meet her eye. It was one thing to suspect, but another entirely to know the truth. Seeing my wife reinforced what had happened to mine—her. The faded bruise stood for his hands abusing her flesh. He assaulted my heart.
“Don’tyoudare feel guilty!” she shouted, voice trembling with anger. “What he did is not your fault! It’shisfault! All his!”
“No? Not my fault?” I laughed to myself. The sound of it was deranged. “I should have been there with you! I should have been the one to protect you! I was supposed to be there!” I hit myself in the chest. “Mine! You are mine to protect!” A deep breath and it quivered out. “I failed you.”
Her hands fluttered over my back, her lips warm against my skin. “You’ve never failed me. Never.” She grasped me hard when I went to move. “You are going to look at me. I need to see you.”
She turned me, but I still couldn’t meet her eyes. I fell to my knees, my face buried in her stomach, my fingers drawing against the tight fabric of the dress. I could hear the fibers ripping. “Scarlett, my baby.”
Eva couldn’t tell me when or how or even the cause, but her words were as permanent as a tattoo across my soul:The bruise on her stomach bloomed like a poisonous rose across her snowy skin, and then her blood turned the clear water red, before it went as black as a starless night.
* * *
There wasn’t enough oxygen in this cage. I woke up sweating and panting for breath. This was the flight from hell that wouldn’t fucking land.
Desperation hit me hard. I needed to do something. Anything. I sat up, rubbing my face.
Scarlett kept a small light on overhead. I noticed that her bag was open, the book of our beautiful years resting on top, a pen marking her last entry. Reaching over her, I snatched it, thinking about what I wanted to say, if I decided to write anything at all. Maybe I’d just read.
