The faint sound of officers speaking fills the background as we stare into each other's eyes, as I stare into hers—a beautiful sea of glistening gray that seems to amplify the guilt swirling in my gut.
I shift on my chair, already making up situations in my head, all about Leilani's reaction to what I'm about to tell her. Like the dimly lit room, my anxiety is half light, half darkness—all of it relying on how my wife will view me keeping such a secret from her.
I must be furrowing my brows a lot because she leans in, gently clasping my face before saying in a rather soothing voice, "Are you okay?"
I nod, drawing in another breath before the words I've been meaning to come out for a few minutes now actually do. "Did Blackstone ever call you yesterday—or today?"
A shake of her head as an answer, followed by the glimmer of curiosity in her gaze—burning.
"Did he call you?" She asks, not bothering to hide her curiosity.
Here goes nothing.
