Page 16 of His Loving Wife

“Are you becoming a regular?” she asked, having spotted him walk in across the room. They had made eye contact, and he scampered over to her, as though being pulled by some invisible force.

“I think this is the best salsa I’ve ever had.” He winked. “And I’ve been pleased with the company, too.”

He ended up pulling up another chair. Again, the two found themselves lost in conversation, talking about the good ’ole days, their younger selves. For a few moments, Kate was transported back to that person she’d once been, the young woman who dreamed about being a writer, carving out her own path in the world, before she became responsible for the paths of so many others. It felt nice to be taken back to that person. Although she’d met Andrew in college, they were bound to the same responsibilities now—kids, bills, jobs. With Paul she could fully immerse herself in the splendor of yesteryear.

Kate flicked her finger in the direction of the waiter and asked for her check. They’d already devoured two bowls of chips and salsa, and Kate wasn’t keen on ordering another margarita. Three would be too much for her to drive.

“It feels good catching up with you like this,” Paul said. “It seems like I never run into anyone from the old crew.”

“This has been nice,” Kate said, honestly.

For the first time that night, Paul’s gaze lingered a millisecond too long. “Being a wife and mother suits you.”

Kate looked down, chuckled nervously. “You think?”

“From the outside looking in.” Paul hunched over the table, holding his hands together. He lowered his voice, like he was whispering a secret. “Are you happy?”

“Peachy.” Kate didn’t know how else to answer the question other than sarcasm. The entire tone of the evening had been light, playful. It suddenly felt like Paul was moving into intimate territory.

“No, really. Are you?”

“Yes.” Kate didn’t attempt to hide her cool tone. She’d answered his question already and didn’t appreciate being pushed.

Paul pursed his lips together. He looked across the way, at the front door, before looking back at Kate. “I need to tell you something. I didn’t run into you tonight by mistake. Or last week.”

Kate felt a tingle of something at the base of her spine. “Excuse me?”

“You get dinner here every Thursday,” Paul said, nonchalantly. “After your afternoon class ends. On all the other nights, you have activities. Willow’s math tutor. Noah’s guitar lessons. But if you don’t have somewhere you have to be, you’re not rushing home to spend more time with them. You spend it here. Alone.”

Kate paused, replaying back everything Paul had just told her. The details. The names. The silent accusation. And what little she’d told him. Their conversations had centered around the past, not the present; she couldn’t even recall telling him the kids’ names. “Paul, how do you know all this?”

“I’ve been watching you.” He waited, perhaps for a response, but Kate remained silent. “You see, I think we have a lot of unfinished business, and, sooner or later, we’re going to have to discuss it.”

Kate’s skin flushed and her thoughts whirred. What was Paul saying? Why was he saying it? He couldn’t possibly think—after nearly twenty years—she owed him anything. Could he?

Kate told Dana about their contentious discussion at Andale’s, how their friendly catch-up turned into something more sinister.

“It was so bizarre. I just wanted to forget about the whole thing,” she said, fingers splayed as she moved her hands with the rhythm of her words, not unlike her daughter during her fit of rage earlier.

“But you couldn’t?”

“I did. At first. Then Paul started trying to contact me in other ways.” Kate took another sip of her drink. These were the details she had kept hidden from her husband, the ones she was compelled to reveal after their conversation with Detective Marsh. “At first it was emails. I guess he was able to get my contact information from the university website. I responded once, telling him I felt uncomfortable with his tone and would like him to stop contacting me. That’s when he started calling my cell phone.” She took another drink. “I still don’t know how he got that number.”

“What would he say?”

Kate couldn’t tell her the full story. Not that she didn’t trust her, rather, it felt like saying Paul’s accusations aloud was like speaking his thoughts into existence. What he said during those phone calls was impossible. But she never thought he was dangerous.

“Just threatening stuff. Telling me we needed to meet. Saying we needed to talk. I think he was fixated on the idea of the two of us getting back together.”

“How did Andrew react to all of this?” Dana asked.

Kate opened her mouth to speak, then pursed her lips. She inhaled and exhaled through her nose, slowly.

“At the time, I didn’t tell him about it.”

“Oh.” Dana shifted in her seat. “I guess that’s why—”

“That’s why he’s so pissed now. I know I messed up, but at the time, I didn’t see the sense in worrying him.”

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