Chapter 26 #2
I realized since we spoke that I’ve been pestering you every day for updates, but I see now how hard it must be to give them with all that’s going on.
This is such a terrible time for you, carino, and things seem to be in constant flux.
You have to stay focused on the situation there and make sure you learn the truth.
Call if you need any moral support but otherwise don’t feel you have to take me through everything right now.
You can share when you get home, and I will be eager to hear and provide whatever support I can. I’m sending you all my love.
And Poco sends his love, too.
My stomach pricks almost painfully with remorse. The man I’ve violated has been thinking only of me, sensing from five thousand miles away how tough it is to be both living this nightmare and sharing it over the phone.
Adding to my misery, I can picture him on the galería as he wrote the email, drinking an espresso and sometimes glancing out at the fields with his deep-brown eyes.
I’ve no clue yet how to deal with what I’ve done, but I reply to the email right away.
Thank you for understanding, Bas, and sorry to just be responding now. I haven’t been checking email. How is your cold? Did you get the voicemail about my flights?
A reply comes almost immediately.
Yes, sorry on my end, too, carino. My cold leveled me most of the day and I was in bed by nine. But much better now. Can’t wait for Sunday.
Me too.
But what do I do when I get there? Do I confess my unfaithfulness and beg him to understand?
If I do, there’s a good chance he won’t forgive me, just like I refused to forgive Logan for his faithlessness.
Which means I stand to lose everything—Bas, my lovely life with him, those endless rolling green fields.
If I were smart, I’d get on a plane tonight, no matter how long the layover, and figure out how to fix it.
But I can’t go now, not before I understand the goddamned hole in Riley’s story.
My phone rings, startling me from my troubled thoughts. It’s Hilary Brown. I answer and tell her how grateful I am for the call.
“Of course,” she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to say this the other day, but I feel just terrible about what you and Mr. Chase have been through.”
There’s a refreshing folksiness to her speaking style.
“Thank you, that means a lot,” I reply. “And it’s certainly helped to have Riley come forward.”
“I’m pleased to hear that,” Hilary says, “and I know Riley will be, too.”
“Actually, is it possible for me to tell her that myself—over the phone? As I mentioned, I’m leaving soon, and I’d love to thank her directly.”
This is one deception I can forgive myself for. Riley’s the one with the truth, and she needs to share it with the rest of us.
“I don’t see why not, but let me check with her. She’s still in the area actually, staying with me until her fiancé—who happens to be my nephew—can drive here tomorrow from Buffalo and pick her up.”
So that’s how Riley ended up with Hilary as her lawyer.
“You’re in Loudonville, I see.”
“My office, yes, but my home’s just outside the town of Edgerton. I decided to try country life after my divorce. Let me reach out to Riley and get back to you.”
I pace some more and open a bottle of sparkling water, guzzling it down. Fifteen minutes later, my phone rings. I groan in frustration when I spot “Unknown Caller” on the screen and not Hilary Brown’s name, but when I answer, I’m in for a surprise. It’s Riley herself.
“Riley, hi,” I say, almost deliriously relieved. “Thanks for calling. I just wanted a chance to say how much I appreciate you talking to us on Wednesday.”
“You’re welcome,” she says haltingly. “I’m sorry it took me this long to speak up.”
“Well, you’ve done so now, and that’s what counts. As you can imagine, it’s been devastating for us to lose Melanie, but thanks to you, we’ve been able to add some missing pieces to the puzzle.”
“I’m glad.”
“Before I let you go, there’s something on my mind that I was hoping you might help me with. Uh, a small detail I’m still confused about.”
“Okay,” she says, her tone suddenly wary. I need to tread carefully.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you went through, and it’s so good you were able to get away, but as I was reading about the creek during those days, I discovered that it was very low that Sunday.
I was wondering if somehow you got confused about the night that everything happened.
I mean, you must have been beside yourself and maybe disoriented and . . .”
I’m rambling stupidly and finally force myself to shut up. An excruciating silence follows. I’m about to try again when I hear a sob catch in Riley’s throat.
“I need to talk to you,” she says. “About what you just mentioned, you know—about the date.”
“Okay,” I say, barely breathing.
“But, uh, not on the phone. In person.”
“In Loudonville?” I ask, thinking she means at Hilary’s office.
“No, at Mrs. Brown’s house. It’s in Edgerton, um, 4204 Bonner Road.”
“Shall I come right this minute?”
Please, I think. Please say yes.
“No, now isn’t good. My fiancé and I are supposed to talk in a little while when he has a work break.”
“Just say when.”
“Four o’clock, I guess. That would be okay.”
“Great, I’ll be there. And thank you, Riley. I’ll be so grateful for whatever you tell me. And no judgment on my part, I promise that.”
“Okay,” she says.
“See you in a few hours, then. Oh wait, please just one more question. Right after everything happened, did you tell anyone? So that someone else back then knew the real date, too?”
For a few moments there’s only silence again, this time a chilling one.
“Yes,” she says at last. “One person.”
She ends the call before I can say another word.