If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(105)

While waiting to see him, I wrestled with hyperventilation. He might lash out—as he’d done whenever I’d inadvertently crossed him. He might rage at me for involving his father. He might even twist everything to blame me for his fate.

I was prepared for all that, but what if he dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness? What if he cried? What if I saw any glimpse of the man who’d made me fall in love with him?

That I even fantasized about such an unlikely scenario scared me almost as much as the prison guards and their guns. I didn’t want my husband back, but shamefully, I wanted him to want me back. Was that normal, or was I just in desperate need of therapy?

My thoughts circled until suddenly it was my turn. I stared at the glass, struggling to swallow because my mouth had gone dry. When he appeared, I hardly recognized him with his unkempt hair and chapped lips. His hollowed cheeks and the dark circles beneath his eyes confirmed my suspicions about how poorly he’d fare here.

I couldn’t quite swallow.

My nostrils flared as I blinked back heartsick tears, feeling almost bodiless after weeks of not seeing him. I picked up the receiver, as did he. “Lyle.”

His name came out more like an exhale than a fully formed word. I couldn’t think because my mind kept circling back to one question: How did this become my life?

“Amanda.” His blue eyes no longer shone with confidence and affection. He narrowed his gaze and grimaced. “Did you think a new haircut would make me fall in love again?”

That jab lanced—more sting than fatal blow. Seeing him left me too benumbed to feel the pain, so I had that going for me.

Erin’s words drifted back to me, reminding me he would take every opportunity to hurt me today. I cleared my throat, undeterred by his childish behavior. “Are you okay?”

“Do you actually care?” He slouched into his seat as if already bored.

“I shouldn’t, but you know I never wanted this ending for either of us. For so long, I thought we were happy . . .” A tide of sorrow rose in my chest, cracking my voice. Then I got angry for feeling any pity after what he’d done.

Lyle stared at me from his chair, as still as a photograph in a box frame. I couldn’t read any emotion through the glass wall between us. “I’m not sure why you’re here. Your sister got the trawler. Ebba’s left me. I’ll probably spend the next several years in jail. Did you come to dance on my grave?”

“You don’t know me at all if you think that.” I dropped my chin, the reality of it all too heavy to bear. I reminded myself that Lyle had never been whom I’d believed. He’d never actually loved me, although he’d done a bang-up job of pretending. “I wish I could take some joy in this, but I won’t give you the power to fundamentally change me. I won’t let you harden me or make me vengeful. The truth is that I mostly pray for your safety now.”

“You and me both.” He stared blankly, so I had no idea if my words affected him. I was counting on his self-preservation instincts to give me what I had come for.

I twisted my skirt in my hand. “Kevin says there are things you can do to reduce the penalties you’ll face, so I came to discuss how you could convince my family to go easy in their victim impact statements.”

“Ah, now we get to the heart of it.” He leaned forward. “You came to get something, not because you cared.”

“What I want is for our daughter’s benefit, not my own.”

He didn’t reply.

“Give me full custody. It’s not a big ask, since you seemed willing to walk away from her anyway. Under the present circumstances, having the right to make decisions without consulting you would be helpful for me and stabilizing for her.”

“You expect favors after the way you and your sister tricked me?”

The air whooshed from my lungs. I’d prepared for this, but it still felt like a punch to the head. You can read about narcissism. Learn that a deep sense of shame and inadequacy lies beneath the bravado. Yet knowing that his real motivations were self-directed didn’t make that comment less biting. “It’s not a ‘favor.’ It’s an opportunity for you to help yourself. Deep down in your soul, you must know our child is better off under my care. You might not love me, but surely you trust me to do right by her.”

“Cutting me out is ‘right by her’?”

How dare he! I jumped up from my seat, phone by my hip, and turned away, body tight with fury. Desperation for his consent kept me from hanging up and walking out. Closing my eyes, I focused on Willa and then turned around and took my seat again. My heart was as cold as the metal tabletop in front of me. “You already threw her aside for Ebba. I won’t let you hurt her in the future. Absent some major changes, you’ll never be a healthy influence on her. You’re too devious.”

“Apparently, so are you.”

I shook my head, rejecting that guilt. “I lied to right a wrong. Restitution, pure and simple. Children need stability, love, and discipline. I won’t actively make Willa dislike you, but I won’t lie about you, either. She’ll need to be aware of your silver-tipped lies so you can’t spread your poison. I’ll read her any letters you send, but I won’t bring her to prison to see you.”

“Willa.” He shook his head. “I never agreed to that ugly name.”