Page 78 of The Amendment

“Canada?” He wrinkled his nose. “What’s she going to do with someone up there?”

“I have no idea. They’re just going to dinner.”

I’d killed for the man I loved, and he was acting like it was ridiculous to get on a flight for someone.

“Hm.”

“I, um, I didn’t want to bring it up in front of the kids, but,” I lowered my voice, “a detective came by earlier today.”

He tensed, turning his head to look at me and muting the TV. I lifted up, so we were eye to eye. “A detective?”

“Yeah, asking about Coach Chris.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that until now?” He set his glass of wine down on the coffee table, sloshing a bit of it out onto the wood.

“It wasn’t a big deal. She asked if Maisy had ever mentioned anything about him being inappropriate.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no, of course.”

“And what else?” A wrinkle had formed on his forehead.

“That was basically it. She gave me her card and asked us to call if we heard anything from him. She said that no one’s heard from him in a while and they want to ask him some questions.”

“Did she seem suspicious of you?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not at all. I told her we loved Coach and he’d been good to Maisy. I might’ve dropped a few mentions of him doing a lot of private sessions to really lay it on, but—”

“You what?” His hand went into the air in disbelief. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, it was fine.”

“You don’t know that. What if she thinks you know something now?”

“She doesn’t, Peter. Jesus, calm down.”

He picked his glass back up, moving farther from me on the couch. For once, I didn’t follow him.

“Oh, there was one more thing. She, um, she did mention that his girlfriend is missing as well. Joanna.” I cocked my head to the side. “Had you heard anything about that?”

“No.” He scowled. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, I just thought you might’ve…”

“Well, I haven’t. Don’t know why I would’ve.”

I stared at him, taking in the profile of his face, the curve of his lips. Lips I’d once loved to kiss. His hand gripped the wineglass the way it had once held me.

Who were we kidding anymore?

Why was I still holding on to an illusion that there was something I could do to make him change? To make him love me again?

Once, I’d thought a loyalty to me would be enough, thought staying together no matter what would be enough.

Now, I knew differently. For so long, I’d thought I could love him hard enough to fix him. All the while, he was breaking me.

I stood up, kissing his temple.

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