Chapter Forty-Three
“Mrs. Price claims that she did not intend to kill your husband,” Detective Fox said when she and Detective Lloyd stopped by the house five days later to brief me. Nasser was also there.
My face heated. “She still drugged my husband right before he got behind the wheel. Ali wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for Lizzie’s actions.”
Nasser set a hand on my forearm. “You have a concussion,” he reminded me. “You’re not supposed to get upset. You should be resting.”
I withdrew my arm. “Resting in a dark, quiet room for almost a week is what the doctor ordered.” I was lucky to be recovering so nicely. Fortunately, Lizzie had bad aim and the hand weight she used hadn’t landed as lethally as it could have.
I focused my attention on the detectives. “Lizzie also smothered her own father.”
Detective Fox nodded sympathetically. “Maybe she did, but we cannot prove that Mrs. Price killed her father. She doesn’t admit to it on the tape.”
“So that’s it?” I threw up my hands. “She literally gets away with two murders?”
“No,” Detective Fox replied in the most soothing voice I’d ever heard from her. “The suggestion that Mrs. Price killed her father does give her a motive for trying to murder your husband. She could have been fearful he’d publicly accuse her of the crime.”
Nasser shifted forward. “Is that how prosecutors plan to pursue the case?”
“You’ll have to speak with the prosecution about that,” Detective Lloyd answered. “Someone from their office should be getting in touch with Mrs. Abadi soon.”
“Ultimately,” Detective Fox added, “it’s up to county prosecutors to decide what to charge her with.”
“What about her attack on me?” I pressed. “She can’t get away with slamming me on the head with a weight.”
“She’s been charged with assault,” Nasser reminded me. He was closely following both cases. “In Virginia, that means she acted with the intent to do bodily harm.”
“She told her brother that she intended to kill me.” I looked from him to the detectives. “It’s all on the recording.”
“The county prosecutor will take his time building the case,” Nasser said. “Lizzie could eventually face additional charges. Her brother could face charges as an accessory.”
I peppered the detectives with several more questions, which they patiently answered before eventually getting up to leave. “We’ll be in touch,” Detective Fox said.
I walked the detectives to the door and embraced each of them. “Thank you for everything.”
“Just doing our jobs,” Detective Lloyd said.
Detective Fox patted me awkwardly on the back. “Take care now.”
“You need to rest,” Nasser said the minute I rejoined him in the living room.
“How long is this process going to take? The whole bringing charges, court proceedings, all of it?”
“It depends on what Lizzie does. If she takes a plea deal, the case will be over much sooner than if she decides to take her chances in court.”
I exhaled long and loud through my nostrils. “I hate the idea of this dragging on indefinitely. For me, obviously, but mostly for the kids. They’re so young. It’s not fair to lose your dad and then have to deal with all of this trauma on top of everything.”
“Kids are resilient,” he reassured me. “Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“I worry they’ll be even more damaged by all of this.”
“You and Ali raised good, strong, resourceful kids. And they’ve got you looking after them.”
“At least they know the full truth about their dad.”
“You were right. Toward the end there, you were pretty convinced that Ali would never cheat on you.”
“Did you believe he would?”
He shrugged. “The circumstantial evidence didn’t appear to be in his favor.” He paused. “A man would have to be crazy to be unfaithful to you.”
I knew I couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room any longer. “Nasser—” I began.
“I’m here for you,” he said. “You know that, right?”
It wouldn’t be hard to fall into the same pattern with Nasser as I had with Ali. To allow a loving, protective male to care for me and make me feel safe again. Not too long ago, that was all I wanted. To feel like I had before, with Ali. But there was no going back.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I do think we should take a little time apart.” I spoke as gently as I could. “It would be so easy for me to just let you take care of me.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked with a sad smile. “Before you, I never wanted to be even partially responsible for someone else’s happiness.”
I crossed over to sit next to him on the sofa. “I need to know that I can be OK on my own. I went from Baba’s house to my husband’s house. In a way, I’ve never felt like a true grown-up.”
“Do any of us ever really feel like real adults? Sometimes I feel like a kid playacting the part of a big, important lawyer.”
“You are significant to me as my friend.” I reached for his hand.
“The thing is, I haven’t properly mourned Ali yet.
I’ve been so busy being angry and confused about how Lizzie fit into the picture.
Now that I’ve proven that my life with Ali was real, I need to give myself time and space to grieve. ”
“I can understand that.”
I stared at our clasped hands. “I need to figure out who I am on my own, to prove to myself that I can make it alone.”
“I respect that.” I registered the resignation in his tone. “I’ll still be around, if you want to call me in a few months.”
My first instinct was to reassure him. The wife and mother in me was so used to making sure everyone around me was OK. Sometimes at my own expense. But I still couldn’t envision myself with any other man, especially not Nasser. I associated him too closely with the person he could never compare to.
Besides, I had no idea who I would be once I sorted myself out. The role of wife and mother had been my core identity for most of my adult life. Who was I without a husband or children to look after? I was in no position to make any decisions until I figured that out.
Nasser laughed quietly to himself.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“I think this is the first time I’ve been dumped by a woman,” he admitted. “I’m generally considered a catch. I’m not sure my ego can handle rejection.”
“You are a catch,” I said. “I’m just not ready to cast my net for anyone yet.”
“Mom, don’t you think it’s a little cold to be hiking?” Ayla asked several weeks later when the kids were home for the weekend.
“I think Dad would say it’s never too cold to hike.
” The brisk temperature definitely didn’t bother me.
I was just happy to be fully recovered and able to exercise.
I’d chosen a relatively easy trek not far from home, along the Appalachian Trail.
Our first family hike without Ali felt like a tribute to him and the family we’d made together.
The irony was not lost on me. When Ali was alive, he used to force us out of bed for morning hikes.
Now I was the one dragging the kids along.
Reaching the observation point, the kids and I paused to appreciate the view beyond the mountain ridge overlooking wide swaths of farmland.
Binti trotted around exploring the rugged terrain.
Adam stared out at the golden-red morning sky. “If Dad were here, he’d say, ‘Look at that view. Is that beautiful or what?’”
I smiled. “That’s exactly what he would say.”
Adam sat on a rock formation. “It’s hard to think about living an entire life without Dad. It seems so . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know . . . forever is a long time.”
I settled next to him. “We can keep him with us in our own way. I don’t know about you, but I can hear Dad in my head all of the time.”
“Me too.” Ayla sat on my other side. “When I’m in a challenging situation, I always imagine what Dad would say, the advice he’d give me.”
“I was putting together a desk chair at school,” Adam told us, “and I picked up my phone to call him to ask him for help . . . you know . . . to give me directions over the phone. And I realized I couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry this is so hard.” I ached for all my children had lost. Their father would be a memory longer than he’d been an actual living presence in their lives.
It was so unfair that Ali couldn’t be there to see these two ripen into full-blown adults.
“I would do anything to spare both of you from this heartbreak.”
“After I figured out how to put the chair together,” Adam continued, “I wanted to call Dad to tell him about how I did it all on my own.”
“He would be proud of you, for sure.”
I hated that Adam and Ali would never know each other as men. Ali should have lived long enough to share that kind of adult male bond with his son. A connection I’d never fully understand.
“It almost feels like Dad is here with us,” Ayla said. “I feel his energy.”
“Yeah,” Adam agreed, “me too.”
I studied my children, their cheeks bright from the cold.
Ayla had her father’s thick lashes and bone structure.
Adam’s round eyes were so like Ali’s. Their father might not be physically present, but they weren’t fatherless.
Ali would always be their dad. Everything he’d instilled in them was still there and would forever be part of who they were.
Ali would always light the way for them.
I breathed in a lungful of the crisp, cold air. For the first time since Ali died, I actually believed we were going to be OK.