But I’m still hesitant about leaving our house. What if they interpret it to mean that I’m running away because I believe my husband is guilty?
No, I won’t give them what they want. They won’t chase me away.
Alex doesn’t have to know about my decision yet. I bring my forehead to the pane of glass, wishing I could melt through it. “I miss you so much. I wish you were here. I wish I could touch you.”
“I know.” He presses his own forehead against the partition. The guard is too engrossed in his novel to see.
We close our eyes and pretend we’re in the same room, that we can feel each other’s warmth. There’s really not much more to say, so we stay silent.
Finally, the sharp voice of the guard announces that time’s up, and he scolds Alex for touching the glass.
I jolt back and force a smile for my husband, encouraging him to hang in there. For his sake, I pretend to be strong, but I’m falling apart inside.
When I get to my feet, he blows me a kiss and I return it.
I walk away, feeling as though I’m wading through water, as if it’s plugging my nose and I’m unable to breathe.
WhenI step outside, I find a red liquid splashed on the windshield of my car. Judging from the stickiness and the sweet smell, it has to be some kind of juice. But the message it delivers is loud and clear. It’s the symbol of the blood they believe covers my husband’s hands.
I force myself not to look at the people staring at me. It’s hard to tuck away my pain, but I refuse to cry. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me even more broken. I will drive away with a little bit of my dignity still intact. But inside, I’m dying, and the baby is kicking uncontrollably, sensing my distress.
I fumble inside my purse and pull out some napkins, trying to wipe away as much of the hate as I possibly can. But I only make it worse, smearing the juice across the glass. I can’t do it here, not when they’re watching. I can hear them talking, the word murderer being tossed around like a tennis ball.
I get into my car. Luckily, I’m able to see enough through the windshield to drive back home.
The only thing on my mind is getting home and locking myself inside. I have enough food in there to last me a few days. Hopefully, by then, Alex will be back home.
* * *
It’s not betterat my house. It’s worse.
A crowd is forming outside. If I have to guess, I’d say it’s at least fifteen to twenty people. From the look of things, they plan on staying for a while. Several of them even brought refreshments and stools to sit on.
Some are holding weapons like cooking spoons, baseball bats, and even umbrellas.
They can’t be serious. Do they really want to attack a pregnant woman?
How will I make it through them to my front door?
In a moment of terror, I consider doing what Alex suggested. Maybe I should leave town and find a safe hotel to hide in for a while.
Without thinking any more about it, I turn the car around. After driving around for a few minutes, I stop at a deli nestled between a dry cleaner and a toy shop. I buy some sandwiches and bottles of water without making eye contact with anyone. Then I drive to Lake Syne and sit on the sand to wait for God knows what.
I’ve never felt more alone in my life, or more tired. After spending over an hour listening to the water lapping against the shore, I return to my car.
Without planning to, I drift off to sleep. It will only be for a few minutes, then I’ll figure out where to go, what to do.
I’m woken by a call from Lavinia. Staring at her name on the screen, I remember that she called me several times yesterday. She obviously knows what happened since Jeffrey works with Alex.
She’s my friend. I shouldn’t feel ashamed to talk to her.
A few weeks after Alex took the job at the school, Jeffrey invited us out to dinner, and he introduced me to his wife. Lavinia and I hit it off almost instantly and ended up ignoring our husbands all night. We were both pregnant, so it was easy for us to get talking. We shared stories of our pregnancy side effects and shared tips that we learned along the way.
At the end of the evening, we arranged to meet up again the very next week. After many phone calls and a few more meetups, we became quite close.
Lavinia knows about my past and everything I went through, and she became my rock. When her daughter, Jenna, was born last month, I went to be there for her. I slept two nights at her house to help with the newborn.
I find it hard to make friends, but Lavinia managed to charm her way into my heart. She has a magnetic personality that’s hard to resist.
