Eyes Wide Open

One of the reasons Neil and I worked so well together was our thought processes were so in tune. Neil wasn’t a babbler. He said what was needed and didn’t pad the conversation with useless crap. Just the facts. And his instincts were dead-on, so when he said he didn’t know, that meant things were still falling into place.

“Okay then. We have two of our video perps out of the picture, one dead and one confirmed missing. The third is on active duty in Iraq and a very improbable suspect. The text came from inside the UK and from someone who saw the video at some point in time because they knew the song that was on the original.”

“That’s about right.”

“How do you feel about a little trip out to California?”

“I could do that. Can work on my tan and kill two birds with one stone.”

“All right then. Have Frances set you up for early next week. I can’t have you gone until I’m back in town.”

“How is Brynne feeling? Better, I hope.” Neil asked in a soft voice.

I groaned into the phone and grasped at what to answer. I’m saying f**king nothing!

“Um . . . she’s still feeling ill. Fred’s helping her though.” I rushed out a quick good-bye and ended our call fast. I could talk about work all day long, but personal stuff was not something I had any experience with, nor did I have a desire to start discussing.

I checked my watch and headed for the door. Twenty minutes had passed since she’d closed the door on me. Seemed like ages ago now. I rapped my knuckles a couple of times. “Brynne? May I come in?”

Nothing.

I rattled the handle and called her name again, louder this time.

Silence.

I pressed my ear to the door and listened. I couldn’t hear a thing going on inside the bathroom and started imagining the room’s layout. It is, after all, part of my training to understand the structure of buildings and the fastest way to exit them. Sometimes when things come to you in sudden clarity it is truly frightening. This was one of those times. The solarium abutted the bathroom on the other side of the house.

I knew then. I knew it before the text came through a moment later on my mobile from her: I hav to . . . so sry. WATERLOO

8

 Please give me the strength to do this, I prayed. All I could see was the way Ethan’s face looked before I shut the door. What was he thinking right now? He probably wished he’d never heard of me. I felt so ashamed and foolish. It didn’t change how I felt about him, though. I loved him the same as before. I just didn’t know how we would get through something like this and survive as a couple. How could we?

I turned on the faucet and drank about a gallon of water right from the tap, rinsed my mouth and washed my face. I looked like Frankenstein’s bride from the old black-and-white film. My eyes looked frightening, as wide as Elsa Lanchester’s were in that movie. I wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, but I knew I couldn’t. Those are the thoughts of a child, and I’m not a child! I’m turning twenty-five in two months. How could a person make so many mistakes in twenty-five years?

I reached for a test package and opened it. My hands were shaking as I held the test stick with the key on the side in plain English. Minus sign for not pregnant and a plus sign for “You’re so pregnant, you irresponsible slut.” I felt that sensation again where my body seemed to want to float away. I closed my eyes and breathed, bringing myself to a place where I could go forward, and then I heard Ethan’s methodical voice softly through the door. He was on a call, talking through some of his work business, most likely. I stupidly wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. I was in here taking a pregnancy test and he was on the other side calmly going about his life. How in the hell could he even manage it?

I looked around my prison at the beautiful walls, and that’s when I saw it. A door. I don’t think they ever used it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be used. I didn’t think, I just did what I’d wanted to do when Zara had first made her comments to me.

I ran.

It felt like hardly any time had passed, but I found myself approaching the rocky shore we’d run along this morning and knew I’d been at it for a good while. The farther I ran, the guiltier I felt for leaving without a word. Ethan would be so hurt. Hurt? He’s going to be f**king angry! There would be hell to pay. I wondered if he even knew I’d taken off yet. I closed my eyes at the thought of him finding me gone and knew I needed to make contact. I remembered something he’d said to me a long time ago. It was when he asked me to pick my safe word. Ethan had told me it was for when I needed some space and that he would respect it. He had kept his promise the other time I used it on him.

Ethan was honest with me. I believed that he would keep his word so I sent him the text, silenced my phone, and kept on running. I don’t know what I hoped to accomplish, but the physical exertion helped me. Adrenaline needed to get burned off somehow, and this was something I could at least control.

I ended up at the end of the pier and right at the Sea Bird Café, where we’d eaten just hours before. How fast things can change in a day.

Ethan had told me, “Remember what I said to you, Brynne.” He’d repeated it several times. He wanted me to know he loved me. That was Ethan, always reassuring me when I got irrational. But this . . . It was just too much to consider, and I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to face the truth . . . but I knew I had to. Running around like a fool in a seaside village wasn’t going to help anything.

Pull yourself together, Bennett.

Well, that got me the strength to push inside the café doors. I walked up to the first employee I found and told her I’d eaten breakfast there that morning and thought I might have left my sunglasses in the loo. She waved me through and in I went.

I slipped the test stick out of my pocket and did my thing, very angry at myself for being in a public restroom instead of in the house with Ethan there waiting for me. Supporting me. His final words to me a very firm “Don’t forget.” Assuring in his way that he was there for me. I am so stupid.

I tried to hold in the sobbing I wanted to let out so badly, and didn’t even look at the indicator. I capped it and just shoved it back in my jeans pocket, washed my hands and bailed. I’d never felt so utterly weak and pathetic and lost. Well, yes you have. Seven years ago was much worse.

The warmth of the sun was starting to wane in the late afternoon and the wind had picked up, but I wasn’t cold. Nope. I was sweating as I followed the return path back the way Ethan had led me this morning. I knew where I wanted to go. I could sit there and think for a while . . . and then . . . What then? What would I do then?