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Silence had fallen across the restaurant. She was vaguely aware that a few diners were standing up, the better to see what was going on. Waiters had turned to look at her, panic and expectation in their eyes.
David was on the floor, sweat covering his brow and his eyes bulging.
He clawed at the collar of his shirt and pressed his hand to his chest.
His eyes met hers and she saw the terror there.
Help me…help me.
“Call the emergency services.” She was fascinated by how normal she sounded.
She was trained in first aid, but her body and mind were paralyzed by the knowledge that her husband of twenty-five years didn’t love her anymore.
He’d been unfaithful to her. He’d had sex with another woman. Probably multiple times. How long had it been going on? Where? In their bed or somewhere else?
David’s throat made a rattling sound and Grace examined her response with a mixture of awe and curiosity. Was she seriously considering not resuscitating him?
My name is Grace Porter and I murdered my husband.
No, not murder. Murder was premeditated. This was more…opportunistic.
If he died she wouldn’t even know who to call to break the news. She’d have to look around her at the funeral and try to identify the one woman who was crying as hard as she was.
Dimly registering the clattering and panic around her, Grace stared down at him for what fe
lt like minutes but was in fact no more than a few seconds.
This was the man she loved. They’d had a child together. She’d assumed they’d grow old together.
If he was bored with his life, why hadn’t he said something?
The injustice of it almost strangled her sense of duty. He hadn’t even given her a chance to fix things. He’d made the decision for both of them. How could he do that?
As sirens sounded in the distance David made a choking sound and then his eyes closed.
Grace woke from her inertia.
She couldn’t let another person die even though it felt as if that person had stabbed her through the heart.
She knelt down beside him, felt for a pulse, checked his breathing and then put her hands on his chest and started compressions.
One, two, three—Damn you, David…damn you, David…
She counted as she pumped and then pinched his nose and breathed air into his mouth, trying not to think about those lips kissing another woman.
The first thing she was going to do when she got back home was change the sheets.
The sound of sirens grew louder. She willed them to hurry. She didn’t want him to die. That would be the easy way out for him, and Grace didn’t want to give him the easy way out.
She wanted answers.
* * *
