Page 21 of Such a Good Wife

“Yes, I saw him strike her. But he did more than that, Col. I didn’t see that part, but I saw enough to know it happened.”

“Like sexually?”

“Yeah. I tried to help her.”

I explain about going over to Lacy and giving her a ride home, and how she reacted when I asked what else he’d done to her. “But it gets worse.”

“Jesus, Mel. How could it get worse?”

“We know the guy who did it.”

“Um...okay? Wha—who?”

“It was Joe Brooks.”

“What? Ben’s coach?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a cop, Mel. I mean, are you absolutely sure? That’s—”

“I am absolutely sure. It was fucking awful. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I promised her, swore to her I would keep this to myself.”

“Well, you know you have to report it.”

“I can’t!”

“Mel, there’s no way you can just—”

“This is why I’m freaking out. If I report it, it will be to one of his cop friends.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of higher-ups who are not Joe’s drinking buddies. I mean...”

“I promised her. It’s not my place. I mean, right? She’d get backlash once he finds out. Collin, if you’d seen him, the look on his face—it was horrifying. Who knows what he’d do?” We’re both silent for a few moments. “I can’t.” We pick up our drinks and look out into the water, an oval of moonlight reflecting off the surface.

“Jesus, I can’t believe Joe Brooks would do that,” Collin says.

“Me either.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to keep this to yourself. That’s gotta be torture. You went to high school with the guy, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Crazy,” I say softly, so relieved to tell him and also because he thinks this is what I’ve been holding in these weeks. He would trust me if I had just said I was sad over Claire’s deterioration, which I am, without a doubt, but this monumental ordeal I’ve witnessed wipes away even the smallest remnant of worry he may have had for me, and now he is an ally in the pursuit of helping find justice for this victim neither of us know.

“Did you know the woman?” he asks.

“No, her name’s Lacy. That’s about all I really know. She’s afraid of him, for sure. I thought maybe if I get to know her, try to befriend her, maybe I can help—get her to report him.”

“Be careful. Please. I can see why you want to help, but promise you’ll be careful.”

“I know. I will.”

“We’ll get that son of a bitch.”

I love that he cares. I love his heart, and how angry someone else’s pain makes him. I put my head on his shoulder and he tells me again how sorry he is that I had to deal with all this.

He says, “Men are pigs,” and kisses my forehead. Then he goes into a speech about the world his poor daughter has to grow up in.

After a few more beers and exchanges about the injustices in the world, we find ourselves tipsy and giggling again about fireflies with battery packs. When he kisses me, he pulls my shirt over my head and lays me down on the dock. I kiss him back.

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