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Stuart nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
That hurts more than I care to admit. I’ve shut Stuart out because I don’t know how else to deal with this, so I’ve gone from Anni to ma’am. He doesn’t pull into the garage straight away, dropping me at the front door so I can head straight in. Guinevere is with the girls in the kitchen, I’m vaguely aware of their chatter as I pass but I don’t stop to greet them. I don’t stop until I get to my office and slam the door behind me. Alone, I stand with my back to the door looking into the office that just yesterday seemed so much warmer.
My desk is still disorganised from where Harvey and I had used it last night; papers strewn, and my computer monitor wonky. There’s a green crystal paperweight that seems to have been there forever, I can’t remember buying it, but it’s always sat on the back corner of my desk, and I stare at it. It’s the same colour as the dress I wore to the Her benefit. The one I wore when Harvey first kissed me. The one with the obscene slit in the front that allowed his rough hands to graze and grab at my bare thighs. The one that made him look at me like he saw me in a different light.
I pick up the shining rock, its jagged edged biting into my palm as I squeeze it tight enough to draw blood and I throw it clear across the room. It hits a painting on the other side, flying through the canvas and imbedding itself in the plaster board beyond. It doesn’t change anything, but it feels better if only for a second. So, I swipe my desk clear of paperwork, rip the monitor free of from the cables tethering it to the desk and throw that too.
I scream in frustration as Harvey’s eyes are the only thing I can see when I close my eyes. His soft smiles and dark desires all reflected in those orbs. Before I know it, tears are streaming down my face. I grab at the edge of my filing cabinet at the back of the room and pull it until it falls heavily to the ground. By the time my legs give up and I slide to the floor with my back to my desk leg, my office is in ruins. My eyes are stinging with the abrupt onset of tears that won’t stop. I’ve cried more in the last ten minutes than I cried in the last ten years.
There’s a very physical pain in my chest, a sudden and gaping void where so recently hope, and contentment had been filling me to the point of overspill. I clutch at the area, rubbing my fist over my breastbone as I struggle to suck in a breath. When I manage to take in the oxygen I need, it comes with a racking sob. I lay down, pressing my cheek to the rough carpet and close my eyes hoping that my world stops spinning.
I don’t know how long I lie there—feeling spent, exhausted, and dehydrated—but soon enough the tears dry, and I’m finally able to take one steady breath after another. My head pounds and my eyes feel puffy and swollen. There’s a light knock at the door, but I say nothing. Everyone needs to leave me alone.
“Anni?” Mabel’s worried voice calls through the closed door and brings with it a fresh wave of tears. “Anni, are you okay?”
Deep breath in. Swallow. “Yes, I’m fine.” Slow breath out.
“Uh, we were going to go for a swim. You want to join us?”
Deep breath in. Swallow. “Sure.” Slow breath out.
“Okay, well, we’ll meet you in there?”
Deep breath in. Swallow. “Oaky. Be there in ten minutes.” Slow breath out.
I listen until I can no longer hear her retreating footsteps, then pick myself off the floor. I roll my shoulders, wipe my face, and straighten my turquoise Donna Karen suit. Men have had enough of my tears for one lifetime and Detective Campos will get no more from me.
The days go by slowly but soon three of them have passed since my meltdown in my office. Guinevere tidied everything away without batting an eye at the carnage I’d caused. I gave her a raise. I go to the club to work during the day, taking meetings with my generals and getting nowhere in tracking down the other victims that Mabel, Keeley, and their friends told us about. Stuart has worked with me full time again and as much as I protest and tell him to get back to Lorraine, he hasn’t left my side. I think he feels a lot better leaving her at home with the boys. He is constantly on his phone either muttering annoyed curses or smiling wide as he messages the boys for updates throughout the day.
My days are long and painful, but I have to admit that coming home to Mabel and Keeley has made everything a lot easier. Keeley has decided to further my education by way of films and TV, and Mabel has been eagerly reading the educational books I bought her. I have found a school for each of them and will be enrolling them in the next term. Mabel is so excited; she hasbeen working extra hard to catch up with wherever her peers should be. Unfortunately, their distracting company ends every night at nine and I’m then left to my own thoughts.
Once again, I’m in a pattern of going to bed after midnight and lying awake until the early hours to get up and wonder the house. Everywhere reminds me of him and every thought of him reminds me of his betrayal. I can’t see the living room where he promised those kids we’d help them without thinking of whether he’s reported this to his superiors and I’ll get a knock on the door from someone planning on taking my girls away. Of course, I’d kill them if they tried, but it would be inconvenient. I can’t be in the pool without looking at the sunbed where he first made me come without thinking of whether it was all to further his mission.
Even caviar and vodka doesn’t help me sleep, though Guinevere has started restocking the fridge with fresh blinis every day again. It’s so quiet here without Harvey’s joking and constant conversation, and Lee also seems to have backed away from spending time with the girls and me. Apparently, Javier made me easier to be around.
Tonight, when I get to the kitchen, I find it occupied. Guinevere sits at the island wearing her fluffy robe over long-sleeved pyjamas and cradling a steaming mug like it’s giving her much needed warmth despite it being warm out. I check the clock on the oven and frown.
“What are you doing? It’s two o’clock in the morning.”
She looks up at me as though she’d been waiting. “I wanted to check in with you.”
“Check in with me about what? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know, that’s what I’m asking.” She folds her hands gently in her lap as I try and figure out her cryptic words.
“What are you talking about?”
“Annika,” she sighs, her using my first name jolts me. “It’s been a difficult few days for you. I just want to check in and make sure you’re okay after everything with Harvey.”
“Oh.” I stand awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.
“Oh,” she repeats, taking another sip from her mug.
“Um, I’m fine,” I say to the floor.
“It’s okay not to be fine, you know?” She says it as casually as she might tell me it’s okay to wear mixed metal jewellery. I disagree with both statements equally.
“But I am.” I head to the freezer and pull out my half empty bottle of vodka, pouring myself a shot. She eyes me unconvinced as I shoot it down.
