Lies She Told(53)

“Where were you?” Jake grips his hips. A laugh bubbles in my throat. More than a month of sleeping around and he’s angry that I didn’t come home.

If he only knew what I’d done.

“I was at Mom’s.”

“Your mother’s?” His arms fold across his chest. “Without your phone?”

“I forgot it.” I push Vicky into our bedroom. It’s bright in here, not that she cares once she’s fallen asleep. Still, I walk to the window and lower the blackout curtain.

“I had no way to reach you.” Jake stands in the doorway, indignant.

I put my finger to my lips and point at the stroller. Then I brush past him again, a Manhattan native navigating around a midtown tourist, and reenter the living area. “You could have called my mom,” I hiss.

The bedroom door shuts. He follows me into the living room. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Where else would I be, Jake?” My feet ache from hours of walking in cheap flip-flops. I am tempted to take off Colleen’s shoes and massage my arches, but I can’t draw attention to my footwear. Instead, I sit on our fabric couch and pull my legs up to the side, tucking my feet beneath me so Jake can’t see the shoes. I’ll need to dispose of these. Trash collection is tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll take Vicky on a stroll through Battery Park later and toss them in a garbage can, somewhere far enough from my building that they could never be traced back to me. Maybe by the Staten Island Ferry terminal. Tens of thousands of people pass through there each day. If I go around rush hour, no one will notice me.

“I don’t know where you’d be.” He stands behind the coffee table. “There are hundreds of places: a friend’s house, a hotel. In a ditch somewhere.”

A yawn swallows my face. Now that I’m sitting, my body is acutely aware of my all-nighter. The adrenaline is gone. I could pass out this instant.

“I mean how could you be so irresponsib—”

“You cancelled on me.” I rub my hands over my face, trying to wake up for this conversation. It’s important that I sell Jake on my alibi. “Obviously, if I’m not here waiting for you, I’d be with my family.”

He bends toward the glass table and picks something up. He brandishes the items like a trial exhibit. A stone glints in the sunlight flooding the living room window. “I found these.”

My rings. I fight a smile. Knowing that I’d thrown them on the floor or fearing they’d been wrested from my fingers would have made last night that much worse for him. “I was upset.” I shrug. “I told you that I wanted to talk and stressed that it was important. And you still canceled.”

“A work thing came up.”

I close my eyes so he can’t see me roll them. The action spurs another yawn.

“I was worried.”

Not worried enough. Jake’s big blue eyes shine with little boy hurt. They remind me of Vicky’s. A swirl of emotions suddenly overcome my fatigue. Anger, sadness, fear, regret. Love. They bang into one another like subatomic particles at high speed, fusing together, leaving empty vacuums in their wake. For a moment, I fear I might explode with screams and rage and tears. Then Jake’s brow lowers, and a strange calm descends. It’s as though I’ve been drained of all the muddled emotions that define the human experience. I feel detached. I am watching myself huddled on this couch, lorded over by my self-righteous spouse. The distance gives me clarity.

I don’t love this man anymore. I’ll also never love any man the way I loved him. Never again will I be a twenty-one-year-old ingenue so enamored of the idea of someone finding me special that I refuse to see this other person for who he really is. No one loves selflessly. I won’t do it again.

A knock on the door stops my thoughts. Every muscle tightens. I glance at the window. Newer buildings don’t have fire escapes.

“You expecting anyone?”

A SWAT team? “No.” I cover my fear with annoyance. “I just got home. Are you?”

Jake’s walk is stiff as he approaches the door. I realize with a twinge of schadenfreude that he thinks Colleen has come for a visit. His stomach is probably somewhere in his colon right now.

The door pulls back. A blue uniform peeks above Jake’s shoulder. “Excuse me, ADA Jacobson. Sorry to bother you at home like this. May we come in?”

I tuck my feet farther beneath my bottom.

“I called out today. What is it that can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“It’s about Officer Landry. Officer Colleen Landry.”

Here it comes. I feel as though I am in a car traveling eighty miles per hour toward a brick wall.

“What about her?”

“She’s been reported missing.”

“Oh?” Jake looks at me over his shoulder. “Maybe we should talk outside? My six-week-old is sleeping in the bedroom.”

The officers step back into the hallway, giving Jake room to go outside and close the door behind him. If they were here to arrest me, they’d never leave me alone with a child in the apartment while they talked to my husband. They don’t suspect me . . . yet. I have to know what they’re thinking.

“Jake, you can invite them in. As long as we all keep our voices down, we won’t wake Victoria.” I approach the door and reach around Jake to extend my hand. “I’m Jake’s wife, Beth.”