Silent Is The Heart

CHAPTER 40

Aaron

The way the couch cushion is bulging around me is like my own personal little nest. The blanket I’ve swaddled myself in adds an extra shield from reality, feeling like a cocoon. I could just live here—here on this couch, under this blanket.

The news recycles again to its headline wrap-up for viewers who’ve missed the top of the hour. I stare at the screen as numb as the first time I heard it, as numb as when the police came to my door this morning as I was about to leave for work.

‘The body of an unidentified man was found on Maranacook Lake today, discovered by two fishermen.’

I’m sure once the police release the details of how the unidentified man was already presumed dead once two years ago, the press will have a field day. I should finally tell my family now. There’s no excuse not to. There’s nothing left for Jason to hide from.

Maybe I should have asked him what he was doing when he wasn’t with me at the cottage. He spent more time away from here than he did here. ‘Taking care of some things,’ he’d said. What things? Things that got him killed?

Before I can deal with my parents and George, it seems only right to tell someone else first. Digging for my phone from underneath the blanket, I palm it and stare at Easton’s contact picture. It can’t go any worse than the last phone call I made, but I don’t have the energy to speak right now after my day at the police station.

Jason’s dead. They found his body in Lake Maranacook.

I hit Send , knowing it’s the most messed up text message in history. At least this way, he’ll have time to process it. I think our draw to be near each other conflicted with our need to process things lately, causing us more problems than necessary.

My phone rings seconds after I set it down. So much for processing.

“What?” he gasps.

“He’s dead.” Pinching my eyes shut, I shake my head, knowing I’ve said those words before. “For real this time. I saw the body.”

“What…How…What happened?”

“I don’t know. They said he drowned. He had a head injury, but they don’t know if it was foul play. They found my name and address in his wallet. That’s why they came to ask me if I knew him.”

“Jesus. I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For your loss.”

I grieved Jason once already. I’m sorry he met his end like this, but it feels like a different man than the one I buried two years ago. Maybe I never knew that man either. Or maybe I’m just too spent on grief to grieve again.

“It…wasn’t me,” he adds.

I had wondered briefly today when I had to go to the morgue if Easton would be capable of such a thing out of jealousy after his proclamations yesterday. Does that mean he was right? That we shouldn’t want love if I could consider such a thing, even if only for a moment?

I hear a puff of breath over the line. “You don’t believe me,” he says, almost like he’s thinking aloud.

“No. I do.”

“You don’t. I can hear it in your voice. I promise you. I would never have done something like that.”

I can feel a smile on my face, which is at odds with the events of the day. I’m smiling, though, because he just confirmed for me that he didn’t mean anything he said the other day.

“I called his mother and told her,” I digress, hoping once he has more of the picture, he’ll understand why I don’t doubt him. “She broke down crying and screaming, asking me what I did to him.”

“Why would she think it was you?”

“She must have known he didn’t die in a car accident. There was something in the way she reacted…it was like she was in shock, but not about him turning up. It was more shock like he’d died for the first time. Then she started screaming at me. She didn’t even mention the accident, so that’s how I realized it meant she knew all along. They must have…I think she may have been helping him the entire time.”

He swears under his breath. I can practically hear him pacing from here. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

Closing my eyes, I know it to be true. Even with silence on the other end of the line, just knowing he’s there and that the nightmare is over is the solace I needed this evening. I can move forward now and live my life. I can finish whatever healing I hadn’t done yet and right all my remaining missteps.

“I’m going to go buy a car tomorrow after I get Jason’s arrangements taken care of,” I inform him. “I’ll drop yours off after I do.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“No, I’m going to. It’s too cold out to be riding your bike, and it’s the right thing to do.”

“Do you…want me to come over?”

He’s seen me as a mess enough already and lifted me up the last time I fell. I won’t lean on him this time.

“No, but thank you. I have to tell my family what’s been going on and make arrangements to send Jason’s body back to Seattle.”

After he wishes me a goodnight, I glance back at the TV, which has fortunately moved on to other news. I think I sat here waiting for the last few hours to see if I would feel anything other than numbness. Hearing Easton’s voice and telling him what happened settled an air of calm over me.

I’m arranging to send my husband’s body back to his mother tomorrow—and I’m not even crying about it. Maybe I’m no good either, as Easton suggested about himself the other day. I’m less concerned about being ‘good’ than I am about hoping my husband stays buried this time.