He took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m back in.”
She took a step back, and seemed momentarily out of air. It took her a moment to digest his confirmation. Emotions seemed to struggle for control of her face, with anger and sadness prevailing. “With the CIA?” she said curtly.
“No. Something different this time.”
“What? NSA?”
“No. Nothing you’ve ever heard of.” Before she could speak, he added, “And I think it’d be better if it stayed that way.”
“Christ, Dan,” she said. “Is that supposed to make me feel better, not to know? Just what have you gotten yourself mixed up in?”
He just looked at her apologetically, but didn’t answer.
“And I don’t suppose you can tell me where you’ve been, can you?”
“You know the answer to that question,” he said. “I’m sorry I kept this from you, Jenny. But you know I have to keep you separate from this side of me. You know why I can’t discuss this sort of thing with you. There are secrets that need to be kept.”
“That,” she said, tears welling up in anger, “is a load of self-serving . . . hogwash!”
“Jenny, you don’t understand,” he said. “I can’t tell you because I need to protect you. Knowing anything at all puts you and Alex in danger.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me, Dan. What exactly about me not knowing about your involvement in this—stuff—keeps me safe?”
He opened his mouth, but he really didn’t have anything to say for himself. He could have spun a dozen lies in this situation, and made them sound like the truth. He might even have made her believe it. If he lied, he could make her embrace him, offering a tearful apology for ever doubting him. If only he would lie.
“You’re right,” he said. “It doesn’t.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” she said though gritted teeth.
“Because I didn’t want you to be angry with me,” he said. “Because I didn’t want to stop. I still don’t want to stop. And I was afraid that I might not have a choice if you knew.”
Jenny sighed, disappointed, and it pierced him more deeply than any needle could. “You can’t tell me what you’re doing, fine,” she said. “At least tell me this: what kind of danger are you in?”
He looked down and didn’t answer, which itself was enough of an answer.
“Ah,” she said resentfully. “I see. And what were you planning on doing if you were killed in a foreign country? Was someone going to let me know, or was I supposed to wonder forever why my husband simply didn’t come home one day?”
Morgan wrung his hands and looked down. He knew she was venting now, and of course he knew she deserved to.
“And have you even thought about Alex through all this? How devastated she would be if you were gone?”
Alex was almost all he thought about, and he had always felt justified by telling himself that by doing what he did, he was making the world a better place for Alex. This was absolutely true, and he felt it deeply, as far as it went—and given that the world seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket, this seemed perfectly justified. Still, he felt that it was the wrong thing to say right now. It rang hollow against Jenny’s anger. “I’m sorry,” he said, simply. “I love you and Alex more than anything, and I would never do anything to hurt either of you.”
“You lied, Dan. And you put yourself in danger again. Have you ever thought about what the hell I’m going to do if you die?” Tears ran down her face, and her hands formed fists at her side. “Because now I have to think about that every day.”
“I’m sorry, Jenny,” he said, and meant it. But she just shook her head and turned around. “One day, you’re going to have to decide what’s really important in your life.” She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
He thought about calling out after her, about saying something, anything, that would make it better, but he decided to respect her anger instead. She needed this time to think about things, and he would let her. Also, her words had stung. They had hit uncomfortably close to home about his own doubts. The truth was that he loved being a spy, and sometimes it was hard to tell whether he did it for the right reasons. He suspected this might turn out to be a night of sleepless tossing and turning. There was, at least, some relief in the truth finally coming out.
“Come on, Neika,” he sighed. “I guess we’re keeping each other company tonight.”
As he walked toward the living room couch, just for a split second he wished that he had lied and made everything okay. He instantly felt guilty about wishing it. She needed time to cool off, he thought to himself as he lay in the dark. He’d be going to D.C. the next day, and so she’d have the opportunity. In the meantime, Morgan would try to find some answers regarding the mysterious organization he was now working for.