What's Done In the Dark(22)

I waited for that answer.

“Yeah, probably.”

It took everything in my power to keep my knees from buckling.

“Well, let me know, man. Maybe I can chip in on the bachelor party.” He leaned in and kissed me on the lips, like a dog staking its claim. “And who knows? Maybe we can have a double wedding.”

STEVEN HAD RETURNED TO DC after that visit, and the distance between us began, both literally and figuratively. Paula started calling me more. A part of me sensed that she was trying to make sure that I was okay with everything. But she was pregnant with his child, so what was I supposed to say at that point? I’d given her my blessing, and I definitely couldn’t take that back now. So I continued to assure her that I was happy for her and for Steven.

I couldn’t take Steven’s calls, though. He called often, trying to gauge where my head was. The few times I did take his call, I was abrupt and I could tell that he knew my excitement was fake. Thinking of Paula and Steven married with children hurt my heart to the core. And I never told a soul.

But that’s why, one day, when Greg made a haphazard proposal at Joe’s Crab Shack, I jumped to accept. We had been dating for nine months, and besides his few obsessive tendencies, he was a good guy, so I said, “Sure.” That was the extent of our proposal.

He bought me a miniscule ring from JCPenney. I almost died when he turned away from the one-and-a-half-carat ring I was eyeing, pointed at the smallest diamond in the case, told the clerk we’d take that one, then handed her a 20-percent-off coupon. When I started making wedding plans, he took one look at my budget and decided that it made “absolutely no sense to spend that kind of money on a wedding.” I protested at first, but then Paula emailed me a photo of her elegant wedding dress. I knew I’d never have a dress like that, so why bother? Greg and I went to the justice of the peace three days later.

I took great pride in telling Steven that I was married. His long silence told me that my declaration of love for Greg stung, and I was glad. I wanted him to feel the same pain I did. He never let on, though. And I took my place as a bridesmaid at their wedding. I fought back tears as I watched them say, “I do.” I led the toast for the married couple to have a lifetime of joy. And I convinced myself that I wasn’t in love with my best friend’s husband.





13


Paula


I WAS BEYOND WORRIED NOW. It was nine the next morning. I still hadn’t heard from Steven. I’d logged on to AT&T and seen that he still hadn’t made any calls since we talked, which only intensified my worry.

I was about to break into a full-fledged panic when my mother appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“Umm, Paula.” She looked extremely nervous as she fidgeted with her hands. “The police are here.”

“The police?” I said, jumping up off my bed. “For what?” In my distracted state I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring. “Are the kids back? Where’s Tahiry?” I asked as I slipped on some pants.

“I went and picked up Tahiry last night. She and the boys are downstairs.”

“Well, what do the police want?”

My mom didn’t answer as she followed me out. I had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when the first officer said, “Mrs. Wright?”

“Yes?” I replied, taking slow steps in their direction.

The first officer glanced at Tahiry and her brothers, who were all standing in the middle of the living room, staring at him.

“Ummm, is there somewhere we can go talk in private?”

“Private? Why do we need to talk in private?” I asked, my voice squeaking. “Is this about my husband? Did something happen to Steven?”

“Please? It’ll just take a few minutes,” the officer said.

I didn’t like the way this was sounding. “Mom, can you take the kids in the other room?”

Tahiry wanted to protest, but the look on my face must’ve told her that now wasn’t the time. My mother took Mason and Marcus’s hands and led them out. Tahiry and Stevie reluctantly followed.

“What’s going on?” I asked as soon as they were out the room.

“Well, it is about your husband”—he glanced down at his notepad—“Steven Wright.”

My heart immediately sank. “What about him? He’s fine, right? Where is he? Has he been arrested?”

“Ma’am, unfortunately, there’s been an accident.”

I fell back against the wall. I had to hold on to the railing to keep from losing my balance. “What kind of accident?”

The officers exchanged glances; then the second one, a compassionate-looking man, stepped forward. “I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but Steven’s body was discovered in a local hotel this—”