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“Why are you doing this?”
“I told you. I love you and you’re my wife.”
“That wasn’t real, Hudson.”
I glance at the wedding band on her finger and then at the one on mine. “It was to me. It was the most real thing in my life, and I’m not giving it up.”
“I could call the police.”
“Oh, please, we both know you won’t.” Audrey goes silent but doesn’t leave and I take it as a good sign. “How is your mom?”
Audrey shrugs, causing her sweater to fall off her shoulders.
God, I miss her.
“Okay, as well as we can expect.”
“What about you?”
“I feel numb.”
I nod, knowing she’ll move through the stages of grief in her own time and that it isn’t a linear process like people think it is.
“When is the funeral?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I don’t need you.”
“You’ve never needed me, Audrey. I need you. I always have.”
“I can’t do this.”
She turns and walks away, and I have to curb every impulse not to leap from the car and race after her. To beg on my hands and knees for her to forgive me, but I know she needs to work this through, and I’ll wait while she does.
27Audrey
“Here, Mom, drink some tea.”
My mom waves my hand away and turns toward the window. “I don’t want tea.”
“You have to have something. The car will be here soon.”
My mother turns glossy eyes on me and my heart breaks at the pain I see.
“I don’t want it.”
I place the teacup on the side and sigh. “I’m only trying to help.” I sink into the chair at the kitchen table, every bone in my body feeling like lead. God, this is so much harder than I thought.
“You should let him come in.”
“Who?”
She glances back out of the window, and I follow her gaze. Hudson is in his car, dressed in a black suit, waiting for what I’m not sure. He’s hardly left and my ability to keep him from breaking down my walls is almost non-existent.
“Your husband.”
