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Heather flopped on the bed, her hair spreading out like a fan. “I’m kind of jealous,” Heather admitted. “I mean, not because I want to get married. But you just have things figured out,” she added. “I mean, you know everything you want in life. You know that you want three kids, and a house in the suburbs. And you know Michael will be able to give you all of that – hell, he probably has the money now, you know?”
I sighed. “I do know,” I said softly. “But sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. Sometimes I wonder if it’s really going to make me happy.”
“Of course it will,” Heather said. “You and Michael are on the same page!” I rolled my eyes and Heather laughed. “Don’t do that,” she said. “I know you think your relationship doesn’t have any passion, but trust me – things are better this way. It’s better for you if everything is so even and calm all the time.”
I frowned. “Things weren’t exactly calm last night,” I said.
“Well, he came home drunk,” Heather replied. “You told me that’s really unusual.”
I nodded. “Michael barely drinks.” Just as I was about to start talking about how hurt I’d felt, the doorbell rang.
“Expecting someone?” Heather frowned.
My heart skipped a beat. “No,” I said slowly. “Only Michael. And he won’t be home for hours.” I checked my watch. “It’s only six-thirty.”
“You guys,” Heather said with a grin. “I bet he’s doing the same thing you’re doing! I bet he feels bad about the fight, and he sent you flowers!”
“God, really?” I blushed. “Michael’s never done anything like that!”
The doorbell rang again, followed by a heavy pounding on the door.
“I bet the flower guy just really wants to get home,” I said. I couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across my face. I couldn’t believe that Michael had finally done something sweet and romantic – just like I’d been asking for.
“Go get the door!” Heather playfully swatted the air in my direction. “And don’t freak out if the flower guy’s eyes fall out of his head. The way your tits look in that dress is incredible!”
“Oh, stop,” I said as I waved my hand through the air. “It’s nothing.” As I jogged downstairs and towards the front door, the excitement blossomed in my chest like a flower.
Yanking open the door, I smiled. “Hi!” I chirped.
My smile vanished as soon as I realized there was no flower guy on the other side.
Two cops were standing there. They were clutching their patrol hats to their chests, and they both looked crestfallen.
“Are you Beth Wilson?”
I nodded slowly.
“Ms. Wilson, I’m afraid I have some bad news about your fiancé, Michael Bennett,” one of the cops said. “May I come inside?”
That was the last thing I heard before I fainted.
Chapter Six
Beth
“Ms. Wilson?”
My head was spinning as I opened my eyes and blinked. Everything came rushing back all at once – the surprise at the door, the smell of dinner cooking in the oven…and Michael.
“Oh my god,” I said.
One of the cops reached down and gently put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Ma’am, we’re going to need you to come down to the station with us.”
I blinked. Panic set in and that’s when the tears started welling up.
“What? Why?” My voice was scratchy and angry, like a caged animal. “What do I have to do with this?”
The cop sighed. “I understand how you must be feeling,” he said. “But we have every reason to believe your fiancé was killed in a suspicious activity.”
