She hesitated. The room was eerily quiet, just the ticking clock on the wall to keep us company. “Do you love him, Annie? Are you in love with your husband?”
I locked my jaw, refusing to think about the question.
It was too painful.
It hurt too badly to admit the truth, even to myself.
“Have you asked him if he loves you?”
I jerked back as if I’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just trying to point out that—”
“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “You don’t know anything about my marriage.”
“Of course not. I’m just saying—”
“Well, don’t.” I stood, storming past her. “Don’tjust say.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home. Goodbye, Joanna.”
“Wait—” she called after me, but it was too late. I was done.
Done with her.
Done with everything.
I’d only beenin the kitchen a few minutes, still dressed in my work clothes, when I heard a knock on the door. I’d left work early for therapy, so it was not yet time for Peter or the kids to be home.
Who could be at the door, then?
I dried my hands on the towel near the stove, then crossed the room, jogging toward the front door. I pulled back the curtain, my body going cold at the sight of a woman in a dark suit standing just beyond the glass, looking very official.
The woman waved at me when she noticed my movement. I closed the curtain and, seeing no alternative, opened the door just a hair.
“Can I help you?” I asked, now filled with a new kind of worry.
“Are you Mrs. Greenburg? Ainsley Greenburg?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Detective LaToya Burks,” she said, handing over a business card. “Is your husband home?” She peered past me into the house.
“He’s at work. Is something wrong? Is it the kids?”
Her eyes darted back to meet mine. “No, ma’am.They’re fine. I’m actually here about a man named Chris Henson. Do you know him?”
My heart sank. I blinked. Breathed in slowly. “Chris Henson…” I let the name linger on my tongue. “You don’t mean Coach Chris, do you? Our daughter’s dance coach?”
“That’s the one.” She pointed at me.
“Um, well, yes. Of course I know him. He’s been coaching my daughter all of her life. Except this year, she’d kind of gotten bored with it. But we love Coach Chris. Why? Is he okay? Did something happen?”
“Do you mind if I come inside?” She pointed behind me, and I stepped back instantly, allowing her past me.
“No, not at all. I’m sorry. I’m a bit frazzled. Come in.” I gestured toward the couch. “Please, sit. Can I get you something to drink?”