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Panic struck me.How could she know?“Then you understand why it has to be this way,” I said, keeping my voice controlled and even.
She reached for my hand, her touch more than I could bear, yet I couldn’t withdraw my fingers from hers. I didn’t want to. This was the first time in days I’d felt whole.
“I saw the autopsy report,” she said softly, kindness and understanding in her eyes.Autopsy report?What was she talking about?
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
I hated the sympathy in her expression, as if she thought I was playing coy. I wasn’t. I literally couldn’t think of what she could possibly mean. What would an autopsy report have to do with the two of us breaking up?
“Your father,” she clarified, and I flinched. Any time I thought of him I had a physical reaction.
“What exactly did you see in that report, Vivian?” I asked, my tone demanding that she start explaining despite that I felt like I was being tossed about in a rough sea.
“The official cause of his death was suicide,” she began. “But every bone in his body was shattered. There were handprints around his neckunderthe rope.”
I shot out of my seat. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She recoiled. “He was murdered,” she said quietly. “You’re protecting me from that.”
“Do you know that for certain?” My reaction was vicious, but so much rage and confusion was spewing through my veins, I could barely think straight, much less process her words.Murdered?
Vivian paled, her confidence gone. “No. But it’s the only thing that makes sense.” And then I fully registered what she’d said. She thought I was protecting her from this knowledge…which meant she thought I had killed my father. And she still wanted me back? That realization took the anger right out of me. I looked at her in disbelief.
“And you wouldn’t care if I’d taken someone’s life?”
Her black hair flew as she shook her head. “I only care how it affects you now.” I didn’t know what to do with that. Hope filled her eyes. “So we don’t have to be apart. Whatever happened doesn’t matter.”
She might as well have struck me. “You don’t mean that,” I said, imploring her not to.
Vivian lifted her chin. “Of course I do.”
I squeezed her shoulders. “Let this go. I mean it.”
Her head tilted. “But the report.”
“Whatever it said is irrelevant,” I stated firmly.
She narrowed her gaze on me, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. “You didn’t know he was murdered,” she concluded.
“I said leave it, Vivian.”
“So that isn’t why you left me?” At the realization, she deflated.
I couldn’t force any words past my lips.
Desperation filled her eyes. “Let me show you. It’s in the closet.” She moved, but I halted her with a look. Now I knew exactly where she’d seen the report.
“I destroyed the file yesterday.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“The file had no place in my life anymore, so I shredded it.” I looked at the machine I’d fed it to, regretting that it was pulverized. In my haste to destroy anything to do with my father, I’d made a serious error in judgement.
“Daniel?” Vivian’s expression was one of worry.
“This changes nothing. You’ll be gone when I get back,” I said harshly as I shrugged on my jacket. She flinched as if I’d struck her, and my chest squeezed, unable to stand her pain. I strode past her, turning when I reached the door. She stared at me, looking lost and confused. “It’s good to know you think I’m a murderer, Vivian. Thanks for that.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
