The Perfect Marriage(34)

“It’s Haley. Can I come up?”

“What you doing here, girl?”

“Wouldn’t you rather me show you than tell you?”

As she had expected, getting Malik to drop what he was doing to have sex with her had not been difficult. After, he’d fallen right to sleep. When he awoke an hour later and asked what time it was, Haley answered quickly: “Time to go again.”

That ended the conversation for the next hour. Malik’s slumber the second time was marked by the deep guttural sound of his snoring, which signaled that he was down for the count.

Sleep was to be only intermittent for Haley, however. Every time she shut her eyes in hopes that darkness would erase her thoughts, she was brought back to the images she feared she’d never shake.

In an hour, it would be sunrise. Haley wouldn’t be able to continue to hide in Malik’s apartment. The new day required that she go on with her life, as if she had no knowledge of what had transpired in James’s office last night.



Owen had an 8:30 a.m. appointment at Memorial Sloan Kettering.

He got there before eight and took a seat in the hospital waiting room, which was officially designated as the Clinical Cancer Trial Family and Friends Area. His mother arrived less than five minutes later.

“Looks like we’re both early worms,” she said.

“Birds,” he said.

“What?”

“Early birds. They’re the ones who catch the worms. Worms are always there, I think.”

She laughed. “Before caffeine, my brain doesn’t work.”

The space must have been recently remodeled. It looked more like a hotel lobby than a hospital waiting room. The furniture had virtually no signs of wear. Two imposing Keurig machines filled the room with the aroma of coffee.

His mother was in the process of making herself a cup when the receptionist called Owen’s name.

“Good luck.” His mom looked as if she wanted to hug him, but he moved quickly to avoid any physical contact. “I’ll be here when you’re done,” she called after him instead.

A nurse met him on the other side of the door. She was older, with a cheerful smile that Owen assumed was standard issue for people who chose a career with cancer patients.

She led Owen to an exam room. After opening the door, she said, “The doctor will be in with you shortly.”

Alone in the exam room, Owen couldn’t deny that he was nervous. It seemed a somewhat odd emotion for him to experience in the moment. He often was anxious before he played in front of an audience, but nerves made sense in that situation because he was about to do something at which he could succeed or fail. But in this instance, everything was already set. All that awaited was discovery. There was no reason for him to be nervous, because the die had already been cast.

Easier said than done, he thought. What was discovered in the next few hours would determine whether he had a future.



Jessica sat in the waiting area, trying to keep her emotions in check. The doctors had previously told her that today’s appointment would not take more than a few minutes. They only needed to confirm a few things, and then they’d be able to determine whether he was a viable transplant candidate.

After thirty minutes of waiting, Jessica told herself that she wouldn’t be one of those moms—demanding answers from an intake nurse who didn’t have any to give. Instead, she’d quietly bide her time. Maybe at the one-hour mark she’d make an inquiry, as politely as possible, of course.

While she was mentally composing her request, she felt her phone vibrate. The room had at least four signs that said ABSOLUTELY NO CELL PHONE USAGE. That couldn’t apply to checking your phone, she reasoned.

The caller ID said Reid Warwick.

Sorry, everyone. Gotta answer it.

“Hello?” she whispered.

“Have you spoken to James today?”

She remembered her husband saying that Reid would kill him if he wasn’t back in New York first thing this morning. Still, it was barely nine. Even if James had taken an early Acela, he wouldn’t be back in Manhattan for another hour, at least, so it seemed early for Reid to get antsy about not getting his money.

“Um, no. Not since yesterday.”

“What time yesterday?”

The nurse said, “Ma’am, you can’t talk on the phone in here. Please go outside.”

“I’m sure he’s on his way,” she said, still whispering.

Reid didn’t reply. At least not at first. Then he said, “I’m at James’s office. There are police everywhere. James wasn’t answering my calls, so I decided to see if he was back already. But when I told the cops that I was going to apartment 7E, they said that they couldn’t let me up because it’s a crime scene.”



Wayne knew Owen’s appointment was at 8:30 a.m. He had hoped to receive a text from Jessica during his second-period class. But it passed without word from either of them. He was well aware that bad news did not take longer to disseminate than the good kind. He assuaged himself with the thought that there must be some delay at the hospital and that Jessica would call or text as soon as she had any news.

By the time his third period began, Wayne could no longer help himself. He had fifty minutes without students, a break he wouldn’t get again until lunchtime.

He left the school building, and almost the moment he stepped outside, the snow began to come down in earnest. As soon as he positioned himself under some scaffolding across the street, he called Jessica. It rang twice, then went to her voice mail.