Page 85 of Silent Is The Heart

“No,” he chokes out. “No, I swear.”

Gaping at the contents of the bag, it feels like a subway train flashing through my mind. The whir of mental images and the questions speed through my brain in a blur.

I set the note on the back of the couch, no longer able to hold what feels like a murder weapon. There’s a folder insidethe bag, and my stomach churns upon seeing it. Jason pulled a marriage certificate out of here one day. I can only imagine what Easton must have thought if he saw it.

It’s inside, making my face flame, but there are other documents, too. A lease for an apartment in Hampton, with Jason’s alias on it.

“What is this? When did he get this?”

He stays quiet, looking grim and pitiful. Why does he look pitiful?

I read on, registering what I missed on my first perusal. The address is the same street that Easton is on.

“Oh, God,” I whisper. “He…he was watching you.”

“Us. I think he was watchingus,” he says sympathetically.

Disgust erupts inside me. I thought it was odd how Jason suggested that maybe not telling Easton about him was the better choice. Did he fucking plan to whisk me off to Brazil, where we’d live off Easton’s money? My body is shaking violently on the verge of vomiting, but I’m too angry to stop my discovery. I fan to the next paper, and it just fills me with more questions.

“Why would he have life insurance on me? I never even agreed to go with him.”

“It was dated eight months ago,” Easton explains and then turns an unsettling look on me that’s full of pity. “You need to have it for a year before it’s payable.”

Payable…Payable, as in…if I died. Except, a part of me knows it’s more likely forwhenI died.

My grip goes slack and the documents flutter to the floor. A gurgle of bile burns my throat, choking me. My body convulses so hard that I stagger back. It feels like I have no control over my functions.

“Oh, God,” I garble, a wave of tears springing to my eyes. “I’m sorry! I…this is all my fault.”

“No,” he chokes out, inching forward. “It’s my fault. I could have protected you.”

‘Protected me?’ What is he talking about? How could he have known? “He broke into your building and stole your money!”

Shaking his head, his eyes are red and glossy. His lower lip trembles, and he sputters, “He…could have killed you,” he whispers.

I’m aware of that horrifying fact. It’s why I don’t understand the pity he’s exhibiting for me when I’ve brought nothing but grief to his door until he drops to his knees in front of me. His hands cling to my hips, and his head falls forward against my stomach. A heartbreaking sob pierces the room.

“The things I said…You could have gone with him and…and he would have killed you! All because I was scared and hurt,” he croaks. “I know I ruined everything, but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’d have fucking died if he’d done anything to you.”

The unsettling sensation from Jason’s apparent motives crumbles and falls away. It’s replaced with gratitude, so much gratitude it brings me to my knees and the man pouring his agony out at my feet.

“It’s over,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. “It’s over now. I’m fine.We’refine.”

Squeezing me tight, his head rattles back and forth. “It’s not,” he weeps. “Myfatherkilled yourhusband.” Swiping underneath his nose, his eye color appears electric behind his tears. “And the fucked-up thing is that I’m glad he did because if he hadn’t, you’d have ended up dead. I’d have lost you either way. I didn’t…I didn’t protect you. I fucking closed up, just like you say I do, and I could have stopped it all.”

How can he think that? Gripping his shoulders, I give them a squeeze. “It wasn’t your job to save me.”

His head shakes adamantly. “No. I should have.”

Cupping his face, I can’t get him to look at me. What I can do, though, is pepper kisses over his tears for loving me so deeply.

“And that’s just one reason why I love you so much,” I whisper against his lips.

“How…how can you love me?”

“Easily, and whenever you let me.”

“But I…I’ve been complete shit to you,” he babbles, shaking his head again. “First, when you found me, and then when I was out of my mind when Jason turned up, and again over the robbery. The things I said…” Grimacing, he rubs the fabric of my sweater anxiously in between his fingers. “I knew it wasn’t you.I knew it, but I still said it.” He looks so lost, it’s breaking my heart to see him torturing himself like this. “I’m no good,” he rasps. “It’s in my fucking DNA. I never will be. I’m…broken.”

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