Page 9 of Sins of a Husband

“What can I bring?”

“You’re in charge of the dessert. Anything you want.”

“Got it.” I stab my fork into the salad.

“I hatewhen you go on business trips,” I say, grabbing pairs of Oliver’s socks from the drawer.

“Me too, darling. It’s only for a few days, and then I’ll be back to my beautiful wife.”

I toss the socks into his suitcase, walk over, and place my hand on his muscular chest.

“You better.” A smile plays on my lips as I reach up and kiss him.

“There’s no place in this world I’d rather be than here with you.”

I say goodbye to my husband and watch as he walks down our porch steps and tosses his suitcase into the back of the sedan waiting at the curb. After watching it pull away, I shut the door and sigh.

After pouring a glass of wine, I grab my bag from the foyer floor and take it into the living room. Tonight is the perfect night to get a lot of work done. I set my wine glass on the end table next to the couch, pull out a file, and look it over. My eyes divert to the painting in the corner—Eyes Without a Face. I can’t concentrate, so I pick up the remote and turn on the news.

“So far, the NYPD does not have a suspect in the murder of real estate mogul John McCormick, who was found stabbed to death in his hotel room two nights ago. Mr. McCormick was stabbed twenty-two times and was found by the cleaning staff when they entered his room the following morning to clean. The police are asking anyone with information to please step forward.”

My heart is a jackhammer in my chest. He was stabbed twenty-two times—twenty-two—the exact number of stab wounds that were inflicted on Brian. I often wondered why I was only stabbed two times. Did the person who broke in get spooked as he cut into my flesh? Maybe he heard a noise outside and ran before finishing me off. Ever since Mr. McCormick’s death, the nightmares have returned, and the worst part is that Oliver isn’t here. Maybe it was time I called Dr. Burton and set up an appointment.

It was now Saturday. I tried to reach Oliver all day, but his phone went straight to voicemail, and my text messages were unread. I was starting to worry because I hadn’t spoken to him on the phone since yesterday, and all I got last night while I was sleeping was a text message from him telling me he missed and loved me.

I stop at my favorite bakery two blocks from our home and pick up the world’s best flourless chocolate cake and a box of blondies. As I’m leaving the bakery, I hear my phone ringing. Pulling it from my purse, my fears are erased when I see Oliver’s handsome picture flashing on the screen.

“Hello.”

“Hello, darling.”

“Oliver, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day.”

“I’m sorry. We were on the boat all day, and I didn’t realize my phone was dead.”

“We?” I ask.

“The firm’s client and his wife. I sealed the deal, Kat.”

I smile. “That’s great, Oliver. I’m happy for you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, darling. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon, and we’re staying in all night—just the two of us.”

“That sounds wonderful. I can hardly wait.”

“What are your plans for tonight?” he asks.

“Remember, I told you that Travis and Samantha are having a dinner party. I just left the bakery with a flourless chocolate cake and blondies to bring.”

“That’s right. You did mention the dinner party. I’m coming,” I hear him say. “I have to go, darling. We’re meeting for dinner and drinks to finalize the paperwork.”

“Okay. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too,” he says and ends the call.

My belly finally settles, and the worry that consumed me all day has ceased.

I take a cab over to Samantha’s Park Avenue Penthouse. Her husband, Travis, runs a multi-billion-dollar advertising company in the financial district—one of the best in all of New York. Although Oliver is seven years older than me, Travis is fifteen years older than Samantha, putting him at fifty. They’ve been married for ten years and opted not to have children. According to Samantha, both of them are too selfish to have kids. I, on the other hand, want children. I always have. Oliver and I recently discussed it. I want two kids. He thinks three is the perfect number but in the future.

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