Page 8 of Death Row
I laugh. “Busy.”
She looks pointedly at the glass of rose-tinted wine in my hand. “I guess you’re not knocked up yet like everyone else we know.”
“Oh, no.” I take a gulp of wine to emphasize the point. “Noel wants to start trying soon ... he talks about itwaytoo much. But he barely makes it home for dinner more than a couple of times a week. I don’t want to be a single parent.”
“Wow.” Kinsey’s eyebrows shoot up. “That sounds terrible. Hopefully, it’ll calm down soon.”
As we discuss Noel, it occurs to me that I haven’t seen my husband in a while. We got separated after a few of my work friends drew me into a conversation, and he started to look bored and wandered away. And that was ... an hour ago? Where could he have gone?
“Excuse me,” I say to Kinsey. “I need to find Noel.”
My friend shoots me a concerned look, but she steps away to allow me to navigate the living room, checking to see if Imissed Noel talking to somebody in a corner somewhere. But he’s not in the living room or the dining room, as it turns out. He’s not in the kitchen, either, which smells a bit like marijuana, although Noel wouldn’t have noticed that due to his lack of smell. I even knock on the bathroom door, but the voice that comes from within is female.
Where did my husband go?
Before checking upstairs, I open the kitchen door, which leads to our small backyard. The weather is quite nippy this evening, and I don’t expect anyone to be out here. The entire yard is lit only by the small bulb mounted over the back door, which makes it hard to see much. If I’d looked quickly, I might have missed Noel at the far end of the yard, standing just a little bit too close to a woman I don’t recognize.
What the hell is going on here?
Even though it’s freezing and all I’ve got on is a sleeveless blouse, I march out into the yard to intercept whatever is going on between my husband and this young woman. Strangely enough, even though there’s snow dotting the ground, I don’t feel the slightest bit cold. It’s the oddest sensation to walk out into the frigid night air yet not even so much as shiver.
Once again, I get that feeling of vertigo, where my world goes on tilt.This isn’t real,a voice in the back of my head insists.
But I ignore the voice, because this is very clearly real. I can see with my own eyes that my husband is with another woman, all alone in our backyard. They’re not touching, although who knows what would have been going on if I’d emerged from the house a minute later.
Noel raises a hand in greeting. “Hey, Talia.”
I ignore him completely and focus my attention on the mystery woman. “Who are you?” I snap at her. Up close, sheis even prettier than she looked from across the yard. “I didn’t invite you.”
“I’m Arielle,” she says. “Chet invited me.”
Chet?Who the hell is Chet? We don’t know a Chet.
“Noel here keeps trying to convince me that the police are going to come soon to break up the party.” Arielle smacks my husband playfully in the arm. “You are sobad.”
I want to reach out and strangle her with my bare hands. I want to choke her until she dies, and then bury her body in the backyard. The fact that Noel is standing right here and wouldn’t go along with it is the only thing preventing me from doing it.
“Get out,” I say to Arielle.
She laughs, assuming I’m joking, although by the way Noel’s eyes widen, it’s clear he realizes it’s not a joke.
“I’m serious.” My gaze is laser focused on this girl who has been hitting on my husband. “This is my house, and I want you to get out right now.”
She blinks a few times, the smile dropping off her face. “But ... I came with Chet ... I don’t have a ride back.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Talia ...,” Noel says in a low voice.
“Get. Out. Of. My. House.” I enunciate every syllable, speaking the words around clenched teeth. “If you don’t get out right now, I really am going to call the police. It won’t just be a silly joke my husband is telling you.”
“Talia,” Noel says again in that same warning voice. He turns his attention back to Arielle, an apologetic expression on his face. “You don’t have to leave. This is—”
“No.” Arielle is backing away now. “I ... uh, I think I’ll go. If Chet can’t take me, I’ll get an Uber.”
“Good for you,” I mutter.
Arielle quickly makes her way across the backyard, stumbling awkwardly in her strappy heels. It’s only after she’s disappeared back inside the house that I turn to Noel and realize he’s gawking at me.
