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Simone’s muscles tense against my body. Gone is the soft woman in my arms, replaced by a block of wood. And I have no idea what to make of that.
I arrange my face into what feels like a polite smile. “We’re not in a big rush for that quite yet. We want to enjoy married life first, just the two of us.”
That, and I want to be in my child’s life. To watch them grow up. To be everything to them that my father was for my brothers and me. I can’t do that from a prison cell.
I don’t plan to spend my life in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, but I also wouldn’t be the first man a jury finds guilty when he’s innocent. The trial isn’t for another sixteen weeks and two days. Simone and I have to wait that long before we know what future I’m facing.
Not wanting to say this to Delores, I make an excuse that Simone and I are heading for the dance floor, and we make our hasty escape.
I sway Simone in my arms. “Sorry about Delores. I guess that means she believes I’m innocent.”
Simone watches me with round eyes that glisten in the glow of the lights strung above our heads. “Is that what you want? Children?”
“Sure. I love kids. But not yet. You believe I’m innocent, but that doesn’t mean the courts will.” I flinch, remembering exactly what I’m up against.
Pain flutters on her face. She nods, closes her eyes, rests her head on my shoulder.
Guilt and anger detonate inside me. Guilt that I’m responsible for the pain. Anger at the person who caused me to hurt her. Simone has never done anything to hurt anyone, and yet she’ll be punished if I’m found guilty.
I tighten my hold on her as if that’s enough to make everything better.
I wish it were that simple.
21
Lucas
The weekend after Simone and I are married, we drive to the dog breeder where we’re adopting our nine-week-old golden labradoodle puppy.
I expected Simone to be excited that we’re finally getting our dog. It’s the first step in making our marriage real, beyond the exchanging of wedding vows. The first step to creating our family.
But instead of being happy, Simone seems distant. Distracted.
“Are you okay?” I briefly take my eyes off the sunny stretch of road ahead of us. Fields lie on either side of the highway, green crops bowing in the wind.
“Huh?” Simone turns to look at me. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about how Aiden wanted a dog when we were growing up. He used to beg my parents to get him one. After they died, he begged Grams to get us a dog. But we still didn’t get one, as you know.”
She reaches over and links her fingers with mine. “I was just thinking that maybe if he had gotten a dog, especially a PTSD-service dog, after the Marines, he might still be alive. But instead of Aiden getting a dog that could’ve saved his life, I’m getting one because people love seeing adorable dog photos on Instagram. How messed up is that?”
“That’s not messed up. You both have always loved dogs. And yes, it’s always easy to look back and wonder what would have happened if we had done things differently. But you’ll only drive yourself crazy if you dwell on the what-ifs.” God knows I’ve wondered too many times what I could have done differently to prevent Aiden from committing suicide. Wondered why I’d thought he was getting help to deal with his ghosts the way I had. “You’re not getting a puppy because you’re hoping it will help grow your subscriber fanbase. You’re getting a puppy because you have so much love to share, and this is the right time in your life—in our life—to get one.”
She smiles, the tilt of her lips small. “You’re right. I know it’s been almost three years since he died and I should move on. But it’s those little things, like getting a dog, that remind me of how much I miss him.”
“I know. Me too. I doubt that will ever change. It might hurt a little less over time, but I don’t think we’ll ever stop missing him.”
“I keep telling myself that it will start hurting less. Maybe one day I’ll actually believe it.” She goes back to looking out the side window.
“How’s the subscription box business doing?” I ask, mostly because I want to focus on something that will make Simone smile again.
“Great so far. It was scary quitting my job and taking a risk on the boxes. And maybe I wouldn’t have quit if Grams hadn’t been involved in the hit-and-run. But now that I’ve been spending more time on planning each month’s box and growing the business, it’s really starting to take off. The photos of us on social media are also helping. People love seeing those small moments between us.”
“So no one suspects they’re staged?”
I turn to her long enough to see her cringe. “I’m sure everyone has figured out the photos are staged. Most Instagram influencers do the same thing. It’s a good thing I’m not promoting a course on having a successful marriage. I have no idea what I’m doing there.” She chuckles, the sound sheepish more than amused. “But candles and handmade lavender-scented soap? That’s a different matter.”
“So you don’t regret marrying me?” My tone is casual, but on the inside, I’m hoping the answer is no. I failed her brother. I don’t want to steal her life from her, too—metaphorically speaking—because of the bullshit drug charges. If I’m found guilty…
Her responding laugh to my question isn’t the one I think about late at night. The rich, warm sound that sneaks into my dreams. This laugh, soft and silky, is a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart. “Do I regret that we’re on the way to pick up our puppy? Not at all. I only regret the reason you were forced to marry, Lucas. I can’t wait for you to follow through on your dream and make a difference for all those vets.”
