Oh, this feels wrong.
Very, very wrong.
I should at least say a few words, but I also need to get on with this before Tessa finds me holding a secret funeral for her fish. Dexter has followed me into the bathroom and is sniffing the toilet whilst simultaneously looking up at me.
“Seriously, Dex. Not now. She said very cross.Permanently.Remember that bit? I can’t have a permanently cross wife. I’ve gone long enough without sex to know I cannot do a life sentence.”
I use one hand to make the sign of the cross over the bowl, then flush, saying, “Goodbye, old chap. Well done with the swimming around. You were truly a very athletic and talented little guy. You’ll be missed.”
But not by Tessa.
I drop the spoon into the bin, wash my hands, then creep across the apartment toward our bedroom, stopping to listen. Shower’s still on. Thank Christ for small miracles. Whipping my phone out of my pocket, I text Vincent.Emergency! I need a replacement Betta fish stat. Blue with a bit of purple on his fins.
I tap my foot whilst I wait for a reply. A minute later, my phone buzzes.I take it you don’t want Princess Tessa to find out?
Me:It would be a disaster if she did.
Vincent:I’ll see if I can find a pet store that is still open at this hour.
Me:Yes. Please. Name drop if necessary, but get me a fish as fast as possible.
Vincent:Very good, sir. Back to you as soon as possible.
By the time Tessa’s out of the shower, I’m sitting on the couch with two bowls of crisps and some ice cream set out on the coffee table. I smile up at her as she comes over in her cozy flannel jammies.
“Thought you might like to watch an episode ofMidsomer Murdersand have a snack.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.”
Not really. The snacks and show are to distract from the empty fish bowl to your right.
Shrugging modestly, I pat the couch cushion next to me. Tessa gives me a kiss, then snuggles up beside me with her bowl of ice cream. I turn on the show, knowing that as soon as she’s done eating, she’ll fall right to sleep.
Oh, I am the devil. I am going straight to hell for this one.
I keep my phone at my side, glancing at it every few minutes as the show progresses.
“Who’s that guy again?” Tessa asks, pointing to the screen.
“I think he’s the victim’s handyman.”
“No, that was the older man with the limp.”
“Right, sorry. Is he the killer, then?”
“Well, we don’t know that yet. The show’s not even half over.” She finishes the ice cream and struggles to reach the coffee table, so I quickly take it and put it down for her.
My phone buzzes, and I look down at it, but it’s just the final score on the Valcourt United game.
“You all right? You seem a little distracted tonight.”
“Just a work thing I’m waiting on. Nothing important. Here, cuddle up.” I gesture for her to lay her head on my shoulder.
“You work too hard, sweetie. I worry about you sometimes,” Tessa says, snuggling herself to me.
My gut churns with guilt, but it’s too late to change my mind. I’ve already flushed Chester; I can’t very well go back and get him. I rub her arm up and down methodically, hoping it will have a hypnotic effect.
“Oh, that feels nice,” she says, yawning. “But if you keep that up, I’m going to fall asleep and miss the end.”
