Every Vow You Break(57)

“You can tell me now.”

“Okay. Whatever you want. I looked him up when it became clear that the two of you have some sort of relationship. I did some research.”

“How did you look him up from here?” Abigail said.

“Chip did it, actually. Did you know your friend gave a false name when he registered for his stay, not something that’s easy to do? His real name is Eric Newman. He’s a murderer, or do you know that already?”

“What do you mean?”

“He wasn’t convicted because they couldn’t prove it, but it was pretty clear that the investigating officers believed he was guilty.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He killed his wife on their honeymoon. They were at a resort and guests there reported that they’d been fighting. Apparently, he thought his wife was flirting with a male waiter. She drowned when they were snorkeling in shallow water. There were no witnesses, so there was no way to get a conviction. All the autopsy could prove was that she died from drowning.”

“So maybe she did,” Abigail said, not knowing how else to respond.

“I thought you’d probably defend him.”

“I don’t know why you’re so convinced that he and I—”

“Because I know you secretly met the morning you went swimming, and because I know that you were in his bunk today.”

Abigail was tired all of a sudden, sick of Bruce’s accusations.

She said, “So, if he’s a murderer, then what you’re saying, Bruce, is that you set me up with a murderer. You hired a murderer to try to fuck me in California.”

Bruce looked genuinely surprised, his brow lowering, his mouth opening then closing. After a moment he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You hired that man to try to seduce me at that vineyard you sent me to. You set me up. Look, it’s over. Our marriage is over.

Whatever’s happening here is … I don’t know what this is, but maybe we can be honest with each other. I’m fucking scared, Bruce. Whatever you wanted, I don’t think it was this. At least I hope not.”

“He was with you at the vineyard?” Bruce said.

“Yes,” she shouted, and Bruce flinched. “You sent him there.”

Bruce was shaking his head. “No, no, no, no,” he said, almost to himself. Then he looked up and said, “You actually slept with him? With that guy? In California?”

“None of that matters now. Our marriage is over.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Thanks to you.”

He came for her, moving with sudden speed, his fist cocked back, his jaw clenched. Abigail was frozen, her body tightening in readiness for the blow. But it didn’t come. Bruce had stopped himself a foot away from her. “Don’t you dare blame me for you being a whore.”

“Jesus.”

“Tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“I’ll tell you everything if you tell me the truth. Did you send him there— did you pay him—to seduce me? To get me drunk and fuck me?”

Bruce was shaking his head again.

“Why are you shaking your head? You either did or you didn’t.”

“My mother ruined my father’s life,” Bruce said quietly. “Do you understand that?”

Abigail decided it was time to leave, and walked purposefully past Bruce, expecting him to grab her. Even so, it shocked her when he did, his hand suddenly around her upper arm, his fingers digging in. “You knew how important fidelity is to me,” he said. “I know you knew that.”

“Let go of me, Bruce,” Abigail said, trying to keep her voice steady.

He did, and she took a step away, wanting to rub her arm but not doing it. A dark, swollen cloud had dimmed the day suddenly, and a patter of rain swept in, then swept out again. “Maybe I did,”

she said, “but you set it up. You set me up.”

She started back along the path toward the pond, expecting him to follow her. Instead, he shouted, “Don’t worry. You’re about to get what you want. That’s why I came to find you.”

Abigail stopped and turned. “What do you mean?” she said.

“I came to tell you that the plane is on the way. We’re leaving this afternoon.”

“Really?” Abigail said. Even hearing those words had made her heart start to race with the possibility they might be true.

“Any minute now, apparently,” Bruce said, looking up at the sky.

“We’ve got to go get ready.”



She finalized her packing as fast as possible, feeling that any hesitation might mean the plane wouldn’t come.

Bruce waited quietly on the couch, fiddling with the zipper of his own suitcase. The walk back from the girls’ camp felt like it had taken forever. Bruce had been quiet, walking a step or two behind her.

She had wanted to ask him more questions, to get him to admit to setting up the situation at the vineyard, but she didn’t want to upset him any further. The plane was coming. And getting on that plane was the most important thing right now.

After doing one last scan of the bunk, she heard the sound of the Land Rover coming down the row of bunks. “Chip’s here,”