The Break(60)

Bingo. The olive branch.

“Yes,” I say simply. To think I’m on the phone with the person who may undo my marriage . . .

I blink at Gabe. Is that what I’m doing here? Am I choosing my sitter over the father of my child?

My heart is thudding inside my chest. Is there another way out of this?

I need to slow this phone call down, but I don’t know how to do that. I think of the scene spooling out before me, but I don’t know how to rewrite it to save both June and Gabe. A part of me thinks what most wives would: there’s no way my husband killed a young woman. But haven’t I written enough novels and read enough true crime to know it would be a mistake to assume that? We have no idea what we’re capable of; we certainly have no idea what someone else is capable of.

I shake my head to clear it.



“Rowan,” says the detective, and I wait for it. I know it’s coming. “Did your husband lie to us about not having seen June?” he asks into my ear.

Gabe is staring at me, his big shoulders hunched, his chin tilting as he takes me in. He could have slept with her—I would be a fool to think otherwise. And if that’s all that comes to light with me telling the truth, then so be it. And if it’s worse, then I’ll deal with it. But I couldn’t live with myself if I lied about June; there have been things I’ve been willing to do to get ahead, rules I’ve bent, ways I’ve lived outside the lines of what normal people do. But not this. “Yes,” I say calmly. A secret exchange. Not because I want to burn Gabe, but because I won’t let June be in harm’s way or not be found because of our lies, Gabe’s lies. And could Lila and I really live our life with someone without knowing what they were guilty of?

My midsection has gone numb again, and my neck feels like it’ll break from the force of holding the phone so tightly against my shoulder while my arms cradle Lila.

“Are you worried you’re in danger?” the detective asks.

“No,” I say, even though Gabe’s glare is full of something dark and heavy. I look away from my husband, down to the shape of my baby girl tucked against me.

The detective clears his throat. And then he says, “We have a warrant to search your apartment building and your apartment itself. I’d like your husband to be unprepared for our arrival. Our team will be there shortly. Is there somewhere safe you can go with your daughter?”

Isn’t there?

Yes, of course there is. I have a mother.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.



And then I get off the phone and look up at Gabe. I swear I don’t think he’d ever kill June; I believe that. But what if he’s lying about something that would help the cops find her?

We just need to find June. And then we’ll get past whatever this is. Together.

“What was that all about?” Gabe asks, dark eyes flashing.





THIRTY-TWO


June. Three months ago. August 3rd.


I don’t see Harrison for the next few hours at work, and it makes me want to shrink up and lie on the carpet. I can’t stop thinking that I did something wrong at the reading, some social or romantic transgression, or that Harrison sensed the attraction I had for Gabe and now everything between us is over.

I’m trying not to overreact, and everything seemed okay last night when we parted at the subway (quick hug, no kiss). But I’m still nervous. Something doesn’t feel quite right, like I hurt him in some way, like I committed some slight.

I’m obsessing over both Harrison and Gabe so hard that I start to feel sick. And then, at four p.m., out of nowhere Harrison peeks his handsome face over my cubicle. I stifle a gasp. I want to press rewind and go back to last night at the restaurant when it was just me and him and I’d never met Gabe.

Harrison smiles at the sight of me, his cherubic face lighting up.

“Hi,” I say, smiling despite myself.

“Hi,” he says, grin going wider. “Last night was fun.”

“It was,” I say. Among other things.

“Do you want to do it again?” he asks.



Do I? My heart is going too fast. A part of me feels like I need to do it again. I need him to take me out and help me get rid of this massive pressure on my chest; I need to go out with someone who isn’t taken.

“Um, yes, I do,” I say, and then I think of everything Louisa told me. “I’d like to go out and also to take things really slow, like glacial pace.” I try to make a joke, but his face folds a little like he’s embarrassed. And then Kai is coming toward me, scowling when she sees him.

The second Harrison sees Kai he’s smiling again, confident. Any hesitation that was on his face is gone.

“Tonight?” he asks, soft enough that Kai can’t hear him.

“I have that audition,” I say.

“Ah yes,” he says. “For Cecily.” And then he bows his head dramatically and says, “But pray, Ernest, don’t stop. I delight in taking down from dictation. I have reached absolute perfection. You can go on. I am quite ready for more.”

I laugh. “How do you have that line memorized?” I ask.

“I played Ernest a long time ago,” he says, not acknowledging Kai, who’s stopped right next to him.

“I have to talk to you later,” Kai says conspiratorially to me. She loves office gossip; she knows everything about everyone, and she loves telling me.