“I was terrified. I didn’t know what he was capable of and how much he’d been doing right under my nose.”
“I had no idea until he laid it all out for me before you showed up.”
“What did he say?”
“I already relayed everything to the police, I don’t have the strength to go through it again.” She leans back into the bed. “Did the nurse say when I’ll get to go home?”
“No one will tell me anything, since I’m not your husband or family. I was lucky to get back here. I think the nurse let me since the cop vouched for me and I complimented her stitches,” I say, holding up my hand again.
“Are the police still out there?”
“No, they left after I gave my statement. I’m pretty sure they had enough proof to lock that fucker up for good.”
Her brow furrows, and she lets out a deep exhale as she sits up, pulling her legs against her chest and my eyes land on the bandage on her inner thigh. It takes everything in me not tograb her and hold her to me. When I stand, her eyes flick to mine in concern. “May I?” I ask, reaching for her leg.
“I’m not wearing anything under this. He cut my?—”
“I know he did. And I’ve seen all of you before. This isn’t about that. I need to know you’re okay. Can I do that?”
She nods. I gently glide my fingertips up her thigh, gauging her reaction. When I get to the bandage, I trace the edges, applying a little more pressure. When she shivers, I look over and noticed her eyes closed, head dropped. “Pet?”
“You can’t call me that. You can’t just come in here and act like the last week or so never happened. Like you didn’t rip my heart out of my chest twice now.”
I pull my hand back, but she grabs my wrist, keeping it in place, still refusing to open her eyes. “I didn’t say I wanted you to stop.”
My fingers continue stroking along her thighs until I see her visibly relax under my touch.
When she finally looks at me, her pupils are blown wide, and a few tears spill over her lashes as I lean over to swipe them.
“I need answers. I need to understand what’s really happening. It feels like I’m living out some ridiculous Shakespearean play and everyone knows their part but me. What am I missing?”
“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you everything. I’m done hiding from you.”
“Does Mary know you’re here?”
“She does.”
“So she knows about me?”
“She’s the one that encouraged me to pursue you.”
Her brows pinch in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you have an open marriage? I did meet you at a sex club so you could be into all kinds of kinks I don’t know about.”
“I don’t have an open marriage. What I do have is alegally bindingmarriage in the eyes ofthe lawwith a woman who is adearfriendof mine.” I say, trying to emphasize certain words so she’ll pick up on my meaning.
“That’s not answering my question,” she says, growing agitated.
I blow out a breath, moving her legs so I can sit on the edge of the bed as I lower my voice.
“I used to do a lot of missionary work for the university. A little over six years ago, I went on a trip to Yemen. And one day this woman walked into my line at the soup kitchen, and I could see the desperation on her face, hear the sadness in her voice. There wasn’t a romantic attraction, butsomethingwas pulling me to her. Once I finished serving, I sat at her table. It didn’t take much to get her to talk, and I was surprised at how eager she was to share with me.”
“What did she say?” she asks carefully.
My shoulders relax, relieved that she’s willing to hear me out.
“Her husband was threatening to report her to the authorities, and she needed a way to get out of the country.”
“Maryam was already married?”
