Page 109 of Where the Snakes Sleep

He stayed for an hour or so, sitting in silence.

I wish I did not love this man.

* * *

1 October 2003

I have begun preparing to leave France. I will be traveling to the state of Virginia in the United States. I chose this place because I heard that the Americans say that Virginia is for lovers.

If only we could start over together there.

I have told Henri that I have hidden incriminating documents in several places.

Henri does not know how many.

That uncertainty is the only protection I have left.

If I die unexpectedly, he must believe everything will surface.

Whether I can actually guarantee that matters less than whether he believes it.

* * *

9 October 2003

Alain Moreau called me. He asked whether Nadia ever spoke to me about leaving him. I said no.

He began crying, then apologized for crying.

What sort of world makes a grieving man apologize to someone who may have helped destroy his wife?

He said the police keep asking about their marriage. They say confidential sources have told them she was planning to leave him. I know exactly where that story came from.

I told Alain that Nadia loved their son.

He said, “I know.” Then, after a long silence, “Did she love me?”

I told him yes.

I hope I was right.

I think I was.

Before we ended the call, I asked about Camille.

Alain said he keeps asking when his mother is coming home.

I had no answer to that. In fact, that is when I cried myself.

* * *

18 November 2003

Henri and I had dinner. We did not speak about Nadia, or Fournier, or any of the others. It was a lovely night until at the end of the evening, when Henri asked whether I had ever loved him.

I nearly threw my glass.

He looked confused when I told him, “That is the worst thing you could ask me.”