My drive home is quick, which doesn’t allow me much time to decompress and gather my thoughts before I see Ray and Chloe. I have to keep a straight face, show that I’m solid so he doesn’t ask questions. Ray needs to see that I’m his doting wife despite how I’m feeling on the inside.
When I enter the house, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread surrounds me. The benefit of being married to a teacher is that he’s off before I am and can start dinner. It’s how we’ve always done things and I’m not complaining. Dinner was never my forte anyway.
“Dinner smells good,” I say as I step into the kitchen through the mudroom. One thing I had to learn when it comes to living in New England—there are extra doors and odd rooms. While most people enter through a front door, homes here have two and you use the one attached to the mudroom so you can take off your coat and shoes before you enter a home. It took me a long time to remember that.
“Hey, you.” Ray comes to greet me, taking my bag and setting it on the back of the chair. He gives me a soft kiss and I try to return it, but my feelings are muted right now. If he notices he doesn’t say anything.
“Dinner, which is pot roast, will be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, I’m going to go upstairs and check on Chloe.”
“Wait, before you go.” Ray reaches out and grasps my wrist, keeping me from leaving the kitchen. “I heard from Bob today. He said that Adam came in for lunch.”
Everything in me turns cold. Of course Adam is going to share with Bob, Ray’s friend, that I freaked out at the store today. We live in a very small town where word spreads fast.
“Yes, Adam comes in almost every day. Why would today be any different?”
“Oh I don’t know, Amy, because my wife blacked out and was unresponsive with a knife in her hand?”
I brush it off. “It wasn’t anything like that. I was listening to a story Adam was reading and got lost in thought.”
Ray nods, but I can tell he’s not convinced. I pull my arm out of his grasp and head toward the stairs to see Chloe.
“Amy,” he calls when my foot is on the first step. I can pretend I don’t hear him or I can answer him. I hesitate too long because he’s now in the doorway looking at me.
I smile sweetly. “Yes, Ray?”
“What was the story?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The story that had you so consumed you blacked out—what was it?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember.” The lie falls easily from my lips. It’s been years since I’ve lied to him and I hate how I can fall back into the pattern so easily.
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. “I blacked out, remember?” With that I continue my trek upstairs and into my daughter’s room. I realize once the words are out of my mouth that I’ve slipped. I’ve admitted that I blacked out today and knowing Ray, he’s not going to let it go.
I stand in her doorway, resting against the jamb. She has headphones on while she’s doing her homework and her head bobs up and down. The mirror on her wall shows me her reflection. She looks up and sees me, giving me a radiant smile that reminds me of her father. Someday I’m going to sit her down and tell her about him, but not now. Ray doesn’t even know, and I’d really like to keep it to myself for now.
“Hi, Mom. How was your day?”
“It was good.” I step into her room and shut the door, something I rarely do. We’re big on having open doors around here as long as everyone is awake and dressed. I like to sit at the bottom of the stairs and hear her moving around. I wouldn’t be able to do that behind a closed door.
“How was yours?” I ask, sitting on her bed.
“It was good. I have a test in history that I’m studying for.” I can’t help but laugh as she rolls her eyes.
“Has he ever failed you?” I can’t bring myself to ask if her dad has failed her. Ray isn’t her dad, but he’s all she’s ever known. Her father would’ve never failed her, not in life or anything else. He was smitten with her from the day she was born.
“No, but Dad holds me to a higher standard than the other students.”
Of course he does. But I don’t say it out loud. I can’t speak ill of Ray; he’s a good man and saved me from myself.
“Are you okay, Mom?”
“I’m fine, sweetie. Dinner will be soon. Da—” I have to clear my throat. “Dad’s making pot roast.”
I get up and open her door. “And fresh bread,” I add with a smile before I walk down the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, I lock the door, turn on the faucet, and pull out a towel. I found myself here months ago after Ray bought up the death of a Navy SEAL, and I find myself here again.
I hold the towel to my face and scream into it, sobbing as my body convulses. My heart aches, my lungs grasp for air, and my head spins. I’ve been living a quiet life and one article has changed that. I should take comfort in knowing he’s behind bars and can never hurt my daughter again, but I don’t because she’s still out there and for all I know she’s doing the hunting for him.