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“But...”
“And I realized this week what you’ve apparently already known. I can’t trust myself to discern when someone is lying to me. And knowing that, how do I trust anyone?”
“But... I just told you... Bruce said...”
“I know what you just told me. And I’m going to think about it. Which is what I’m doing full-time these days. Thinking. I told Elliott I needed some time to figure myself out before I can know what I can give to someone else.”
“But, Marie...guys like Elliott, you don’t always get second chances...”
“I know, Mom. And sometimes, even when you have loads of them, you still can’t be the good spouse you want to be.” Her father was proof of that.
“Can I just say one thing?”
“You can say whatever you want. I’ll always listen. You know that.” She just wasn’t going to be swayed simply because her mother wanted or needed her to be.
And wasn’t that what Bruce had called evidence that she could trust herself? Because she listened. And then, if she still knew what she knew, stood her ground.
“I just wonder if...maybe the reason you couldn’t discern, as you call it, that Elliott was lying to you was that in terms of the things that matter to you, deeply matter, he wasn’t lying?”
Exactly what Elliott had said to her.
She closed her eyes again. Laid her head down on her desk. Was a search for clarity supposed to hurt this much?
Was there ever an end to the number of sides to this story?
She wanted one of Grace’s chocolate-chip muffins. And a cup of dark roast Colombian. Straight.
“I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I love you, Marie.”
“I know. I love you, too. Say hello to Bruce for me. And tell him thank you, too.”
“Okay. Be safe, sweetie.”
“Always.” Marie hung up, feeling as if she were cutting her mother off at the ankles. Just as she’d cut Gabi off earlier in the week.
And wondered if maybe—just maybe—she was doing so because she somehow subconsciously knew that it was time for her, that she was ready, to take full responsibility for her own life.
She owed it to herself.
And maybe—just maybe—to Elliott, too.
Or maybe she was cutting everyone off because she was nothing but a coward. Afraid to take on life. So easy to sit on the sidelines and help everyone else win their games.
But when it came to her own?
Could she trust herself to play?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, in a closed settlement conference with his attorney, the district attorney and the judge, George Costas agreed to plead guilty to half the number of charges originally brought against him, avoiding a lengthy and costly trial for him and the taxpayers. He would serve no less than ten years, but could serve up to forty. Part of the leniency awarded him had to do with the fact that all restitution was being made. His sentencing date was set for June. Until then he was out on bail.
Elliott stopped in the shop to warn her to be extra vigilant in her safety awareness. And to let her know that he would be right upstairs, all night, if she needed him.
She thanked him.
Almost called him back to tell him that she was ready to be courageous. To give them a chance. But watched him walk out the front door with a lump in her throat.
