“There are rules about evidence.” He knows this, too. “I can’t always openly share my work with you. What I’ve told you this morning is already skirting the fringes of breaking those rules.”
He nods. Places his own mug next to mine and then stares directly into my eyes. “You could have let me know where you were and that you would be late. Would that be breaking the rules? Either way, you didn’t. What’s happening to us, Liv?”
I search his eyes for a long moment, looking for the glimpses of the man I fell in love with, but all I see is anger and frustration. “I wish I knew. I can’t seem to do anything right anymore. And you have a valid point, I should have called or at least sent a text, but I was so upset, so confused, I couldn’t think.”
“I suppose Walt comforted you?”
“What?” I don’t believe this. “We discussed what my father’s notes could possibly mean. Trust me, it was all very clinical.”
“You said yes when I asked you to marry me, Liv. You made a commitment to me.” His tone hardens with each word. “Walt gets your days. Your nights should belong to me.”
“You’re twisting everything I say! Walt and I are partners—and friends. That’s all. If anything, he’s like a father to me.”
David leans closer, stares into my eyes until I blink. “Why don’t I believe you? It feels like you’re keeping things from me. Like I can’t trust anything you say anymore.”
The words echo in my brain as familiar as if I’d said them myself. I drown out the voices that seem to be a replay of the fight we just had. Have we had this fight before? I can’t remember. The hours and days are blurring together. The headaches, the fatigue. I don’t know how much more I can take. I am so, so tired. So confused. I feel completely out of control.
I summon my resolve and say what needs to be said. “I honestly don’t know what your deal is with Walt. It’s like you’re suddenly jealous of him. The idea is absurd ... it’s totally outrageous.”
He laughs. “You can’t remember anything about our lives anymore, and I’m the outrageous one?” He flings an arm outward, toward the wall that separates the kitchen and dining room. “Your stuff still sits in boxes in the foyer. You haven’t unpacked a damn one of them. Do you even want to be here, Liv?”
A distant throb starts in the back of my skull. I can’t do this.
I slide from between him and the counter. “I have to get to work.”
“There’s the answer!” he shouts at my back. “Walk away.”
I stop, turn to face him. “I’m not walking away, David. You’re pushing me away.”
He smiles, but there is no amusement in the expression, then he bangs a fist into his chest. “I’m pushing you away? From where I’m standing, you’re the one who can’t wait to get away.”
This time I turn my back and I keep walking.
I guess I’ll just have to wait for a better time to tell him he’s going to be a father.
Or maybe I won’t tell him at all.
Doesn’t matter. I’m out of time. I’m meeting Walt, and we’re going to talk to the warden at the prison where Fanning spent the better part of the past fourteen years. I need to know if my father visited him there. More importantly, why.
The street that leads onto the compound of Riverbend Maximum Security Institution could be the driveway to a large estate. As Walt navigates the long stretch, I survey the landscape. Trees and lampposts line the way. Freshly cut grass spreads out for as far as the eye can see. Beyond the meticulously maintained landscape, the Cumberland River encircles the vast property. But as you round the bend in the drive, you see the wire fence and the institutional boxes that make up the prison. This is no estate, no spa resort; this is a maximum-security prison that houses several hundred prisoners, including the state’s male death row offenders.
The sky is overcast, threatening, as I climb out of the Tahoe. I draw in a deep breath heavy with the smell and taste of rain. The air crackles with the potential of the coming storm. The forecast is rain today and possible thunderstorms late tomorrow.
I’ve always had a thing for thunderstorms. They make me feel alive. The crashes and booms of thunder and the steady drum of rain are soothing to my soul somehow. It’s weird, I know.
“You should try talking to him again tonight.”
I glance at Walt. He could see that I was upset the moment I hopped into his passenger seat, so I told him the latest with David. “I will. I really don’t know why he’s got such a bug up his ass. Maybe he’s the one having second thoughts.”
Walt pauses to look at me. “If that’s the case, he’s a damn fool.”
I refuse to tell Walt about David’s jealousy where our relationship is concerned. No way would I do that to him. I will not allow David’s insecurities to become Walt’s guilt. Or mine, for that matter.
“Are you thinking of holding back until you see how things go from here?”
“Honestly?” I exhale a weary breath. “Yes, I am. I don’t want the baby to be the only reason that we follow through with our wedding plans. If we’re not supposed to do this, then we don’t need to do this.”
We stare at each other for a moment, then carry on toward the prison entrance. What else is there to say? My relationship with David is unraveling at breakneck speed. The best I can do is brace for whatever comes next and hope we can find our way beyond this rocky place that has suddenly consumed our lives. There are so many things I should be telling him; then maybe he would understand. But I can’t bring myself to do that—to expose this ... whatever it is ... that’s happening to me.
