Page 55 of His Loving Wife

It is strange Andrew wouldn’t tell me he’d invited someone over. I was gone at the store for an hour—it seems like a short amount of time to make plans in my absence.

“You say you’re a member of Second Chances?”

“Yes, that’s where I met Andrew.”

“You’re the first member I’ve met in person.” I smile, but it feels forced. I’d been preparing to suggest we pack up and head home tonight, not host another visitor. I look to Andrew. “Where’s Willow?”

“Sleeping,” he says.

“Let me check in on her. Is Noah in the pool?”

“Went out there as soon as he finished his waffles. Vincent said he’d join us on the fishing trip this afternoon. He’s more experienced than I am.”

“First thing I did after retirement was invest in a little two-seater,” Vincent says, puffing up his chest and crossing his arms. “I try to get out on the water any chance I get.”

I nod, my cheeriness still feeling false. “I’d better check on Willow. Nice meeting you, Vincent.”

Andrew, perhaps sensing my desire to speak with him, follows me.

“What’s going on?” I whisper as soon as we turn the corner. “You never mentioned having one of your friends join us.”

“I’m sorry to spring it on you. Thing is, I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning about Paul. As unlikely as it is that he might have found us, we can never be too safe, right? Vincent happens to live twenty minutes away from here. I thought, why not have him join us? Give us an extra set of eyes our final few days?”

I’m happy Andrew is at least taking my concerns from earlier seriously, but this feels intrusive. “I’m not sure I like the idea of some stranger bunking up with us on our vacation. I’m still on edge about finding the jammer. I’m not sure now is the time to be adding in distractions.”

“He’s not bunking up with us. He’ll go back to his place at night. And he’s not a distraction. If anything, he’s an asset. He can protect us.”

“But I don’t know him. He’s a stranger.”

“I’ve invited him to stay for dinner. You can get to know him then. You’ll see. We couldn’t be in safer hands.”

“How well do you even know him? What if he’s not who he says he is? I know he’s part of your group…”

“He’s my best friend in the group. I know his face. Hell, I know everything about him. He’s the guy we all turn to when we’re feeling…” he pauses, tilts his head from side to side “… when we’re feeling a little overwhelmed. I trust this guy with my life. I wouldn’t bring him around my family otherwise.” He looks around the corner, spying to see if anyone can hear us. “Besides, he’s also an expert fisherman. I could use his help out on the water.”

“Do you really think going back on the boat is the best idea?” I whisper. “What happened the other day—”

“It was an accident,” he says. “I’m not going to let Noah near the edge of the boat. Vincent and I will do all the heavy lifting. I promise.”

I look down. “Noah nearly drowned the other day, and I’m not ready to let him back out there.”

“He’s the one begging me to go. I think he wants to redeem himself. You can come with us if it would make you feel better.”

“I can’t.” I look away, my body remembering the sensation of water breaking against my cheek, splashing over my head and up my nostrils. “Someone has to stay with Willow.”

“Vincent knows what he’s doing on the water. It will be fine.”

You were supposed to know what you were doing on the water, I want to say, but I won’t. Without waiting for a reply, Andrew turns and joins Vincent in the kitchen.

I press my lips together and inhale through my nose. There’s no way I’ll be able to convince Andrew to cut the trip short now that he’s invited his friend to join us. The last thing I want to do is be rude to Vincent; I know from previous conversations with Andrew that he’s been particularly helpful to him in recent months, but his presence serves as yet another distraction from our problems.

Willow’s door is cracked open. The light pink walls look violet in the darkness, and the blackout curtains over the window have been pulled tight. Willow is under a bundle of blankets, the corner of one covering her eyes.

“Did you eat anything?” I whisper, not even sure if she’s awake.

“I tried. My head is still killing me.”

“Take this,” I say, handing over the medicine.

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