By two in the morning, the ER began to return to normal and I was finally able to catch my breath.
“So what was the deal with that lady that was shot by her husband?” I asked April, one of the shift nurses. April was the ER reporter. If you wanted to know what was going on, she was the one to give you the scoop.
“Girl, her husband caught her cheating. Apparently, he killed the other guy, then stabbed her. She got away, then he followed her here,” April said. “He just kept telling the police, ‘I thought we were happy.’ That’s all he said over and over.”
“Wow.”
“Yep,” she continued, shaking her head. “He tried to kill her.” She stopped and looked toward the bay where the woman had died. “I guess he did kill her. That’s why I try to tell folks, you playing with fire when you step out on your mate. You never know what someone is capable of until they’ve been wronged.”
I was stunned. It’s like she was sending me a direct message. But was Greg capable of murder? No, I told myself. Greg would never do something like that. But still, deep down, I knew, with a betrayal like this, I had no idea what my husband was capable of.
I had a hard time concentrating the rest of my shift. I had just clocked out when I saw Valerie Westbrook, our clinical psychologist, heading to her office.
I don’t know what made me stop her, but I said, “Hey, Valerie. Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Sure, Felise. What’s going on?”
“You heard about what happened in the ER tonight?”
“Yes.” She assumed her professional demeanor. “I got the All-text, which is why I came on in. Such a tragedy. And I understand you were with her. Do you need to talk?”
We had psychologists on staff because sometimes the trauma of the ER got to be too much.
“I actually do,” I said. While the young woman’s murder bothered me, that’s not what I wanted to talk to Valerie about. I hated using tonight’s situation to find out answers for myself, but I wasn’t ready to admit to anyone else what I’d done.
“Let’s step in my office.” She led the way down the hallway. I followed her in and took a seat. She sat down behind her desk and got into therapist mode.
“So, you were with her when she came in?”
“I was. She wanted me to tell her kids she was sorry. It was so heartbreaking. She felt like she was to blame. ”
Valerie was listening intently. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, but I’m sure it was comforting to the woman to have you there.”
“She said he’d never gotten out of control like that before. Do you think it’s possible for someone with no violent history to snap?”
Valerie nodded. “Absolutely. Crimes of passion are often the result of rage, many times that no one saw coming. They’re amplified when the person feels like the betrayal was significant.”
“The lady was really remorseful, and she wanted to make sure her kids didn’t hate her husband.” She listened like she was waiting for me to continue. “I know you deal with mostly traumatic situations, but you do a lot of family counseling as well.” I needed to make sure I was convincing, so I let myself look confused. I’d been trying to make sense of how I could’ve done what I did. Maybe Valerie could indirectly help me find some answers. “I guess I’m just trying to understand what makes a person cheat. I mean, she seemed like a sweet woman, and apparently the husband thought they were perfectly happy. Why would she risk everything?”
“No one who is perfectly happy in their primary relationship gets into a second one,” Valerie said matter-of-factly.
“Hmmm,” I said.
“Usually, they’re missing or lacking something,” Valerie continued. “Let me use this analogy. Imagine someone wandering around with a couple of empty wineglasses who suddenly meets someone with a bottle of wine. And so they want a little taste.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure there’s not anything more you want to talk about?”
“No, no. I just felt bad for the lady, that’s all.” I wanted to ask her more questions, talk to her about how I could get over the guilt, but I was too ashamed to let her in on what I’d done.
“Really, that was it,” I said. “It’s all just part of the job, I guess.” I shrugged. “But thank you for taking the time out to talk to me.”
“My door is always open, whenever you need me. You can come talk to me about anything, work-related or not.”
I probably needed to come on a regular basis, but I knew I never would. I did walk away with one valuable nugget, though. This secret was a ticking time bomb. Greg had only rumbled the other day. If he stumbled upon the truth any other way, he would completely explode.