A pause for her gratefulness was noted. Then he dove back in.
"And then you ended things."
"Yes."
"Why?"
She sighed, tired of these questions. Tired of this man being any part of her life, let alone this large a part, this detrimental. "I found out he was married, had been married for over a decade." She looked down at her hands and added softly, "With kids."
"And then his wife came to see you at your cafe."
She nodded slowly.
"I need you to verbally answer, Miss Willow."
She let out a breath. "Yes."
"And what happened?"
More than any other moment in that relationship, even when she had to fight for breath and her life, his wife coming into the cafe was the most clear.
The one that haunted her.
She was pretty. Blonde, petite, wore her shoulders in a way that said she forgot who she was. It was in the way she looked at Eloise, the way her eyes took in the woman who turned her husband's head. She was sure she hadn't been the only "other" inhis life; not with the ease with which he had lied to her, hid his real life like he had practiced. Hid his true monster.
Her blue eyes were the kind of tired that was sad, faded; a sadness that permeated over years, sunk into the her and part of her bloodstream. Sadness was now a part of her.
She ordered a coffee with cream and then asked.
Eloise had wondered later if that had been the bravest moment in this woman's life.
She remembered the fear. The shock. The way her heart beat so hard, but then how it had slowed down in recognition of this woman's hurt, and how she had been a part of that. She'd untied her apron and taken her to the the back alley where she had been diligent in keeping it clean and kept a few potted plants and a cafe table with chairs for any baristas needing a quiet place for their breaks.
And they sat there, between the stucco walls of her cafe and the wild bird store next door and the woman didn't cry, but accepted what lies he had told Eloise.
"You know what happened next," she said to the chief.
The chief leaned forward, his eyes on hers. "She took her own life that night."
She stared at the chief, making sure he felt her words. "No, she didn't. He took her life."
"There's no evidence backing that conclusion."
She smiled sadly. "Yes, well, when you don't look for evidence it's pretty hard to find it."
He looked down at a brown folder, opening it silently. A minute passed. "And you told the officers that you thought he killed her."
"Yes."
"And he attacked you that night."
A tightening in her chest. Hands around her throat. Flashes of life, flashes of smell. "Yes."
"The officers took your statement, you got treated at the local urgent care, they followed up once and that was the extent of your knowledge as far as that investigation went."
She swallowed a lump in her throat, nodded, then said, "Yes," remembering his direction from earlier. Verbal answers needed.
He tapped the page, his eyes looking over words before he closed it and looked back at her. The sound of the chair moving across the linoleum floor made her close her eyes.
