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He drops down to sit beside me again, and I can feel his eyes on me, but I can't make myself look up. "Do you think I'm a monster? For being so cold about it?" he asks when I don't say anything.
I continue gazing at my hands. "I have my own private investigation company. I spend a lot of time tracking the digital footprints left by men and women who are suspected of cheating on their spouses. I’ve seen everything."
His lips quirk, and he stares at me in amazement.
“What?” I ask. “What did I say?”
“You’re a private investigator?” he asks, like I just said I jumped out of planes for a living.
“Yes, and I build security systems. Anyway, no questions, right?” I say.
He rolls his eyes, and I continue.
“I admire you, actually. And you're not the bad guy in that scenario.” His eyes turn skeptical and I concede a little. “Fine, you were a shitty boyfriend."
"I was," he affirms.
"But she could have broken up with you any time. Despite whatever expectations your families had, this is the twenty-first century. She sounds like she had an education and her own income, so why did she lead you on? Why did she cheat on you instead of telling you how she felt? None of that makes sense to me at all." I shake my head in bewilderment and look at him.
He expels a large breath and then smiles at me. His lips are quirked in disbelief, but his eyes are giddy.
"You know? This was a great idea. I hadn't said any of that out loud before. Not even to my siblings because they all knew her, too. Everyone was heartbroken over her death. So, I kept it to myself."
We fall into silence again, lost in our thoughts. I can't believe how similar his story sounds to mine, at least the part about not telling anyone.
"I went on our honeymoon,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t really want me to hear him.
My head snaps back, and I stare are him. "Yeah, you said. But now that I know the full story, it’s really fucking weird."
He laughs self-deprecatingly. “I’d planned this lavish week at a resort in Italy. I knew it was a place she wanted to visit. And then I found out it's where she'd been when she died. When the travel agent called and asked if I wanted to cancel it, I almost did. I hate Italy. Especially in the summer. It's too fucking hot, and all the food has cheese in it. But I went anyway, just to spite her."
"Oh my God, you’re a masochist." I laugh at him.
"Maybe..." He chuckles. "My family thought I was grieving, but by then I was just pissed. They didn't say anything, and then I was glad. But now I wish they had beca
use it was a nightmare. I was miserable. The resort was crawling with nothing but happy couples. Everything reminded me of what a failure I'd been as a partner. How much I'd lost. What I'd probably never have. That set me back in a major way. It was only when I came back home and her mother brought a box of her belongings that she thought I'd want that I finally got over any guilt I'd felt. There was a stack of letters in a little box she'd written ‘From my Love’ on. Her mother had assumed they were from me. But I knew they weren't because I'd never written her any letters."
He pauses and closes his eyes, letting his head rest on the wall of the elevator. "And maybe this will make me an asshole, and I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. But she was such a bitch."
This last word was said with so much relish that if it wasn't all so fucked up, I might have laughed. Instead, I sit and let the silence wash over me. I think of everything I want to say to him. I don't think he's an asshole at all. He got involved with the wrong woman.
After a few minutes, he nudges me slightly with his shoulder.
"I feel like I took a shower after being lost in some jungle for six months. I feel clean. I needed to get that off my chest. So, thanks. You're crazy and rude, but you were right," he laughs, and I can hear his relief.
I nudge him back, but his little dig doesn’t bother me at all. He's smiling, and this time it's reaching his eyes. I force myself not to stare and look down at the ground.
“Well, it's your turn. And unless you're about to tell me that someone you know died too, I think it should be an easier story to hear than what you had to listen to."
And at those words, all of my bravado and conviction leave me.
10
Harry
As soon as I say those words, she stiffens and I want to take them back.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry. That was so stupid," I apologize.
