Poor Emily III
How could he have done this? She thought in shock. Struggling to breathe, Emily looked out at the peaceful waves, crashing on the beach. She struggled to breathe, her mind engulfed by what Arvin had told her. He was not in the CIA. He was an enemy, an evil man. She struggled to believe that her husband, her whole entire world, was a murderer and a criminal. Did Sydney know the truth? Did Jack? Did that Dixon fellow? Did that funny young man named Marshall? Did any of them, any of the people who had stopped by their house every now and again know what they were working for? And what did they do? What did Arvin do every day when he went to work, or stayed late, or went on a business trip, or anything like that. What did all these people do, these people who sometimes came to her house, sat and talked with her before Arvin called them into his study? Were they planning to kill, steal, hurt people in ways she could not bear to think about?
But, she soon came to realize she couldn't leave him. She loved him too much, he loved her too much- he was her entire world. She couldn't leave it, it was too hard, after what she had gone through.
So they concocted their plot, to fake her poisoning and death. She knew it was the only way- the only way for her and him to be together, in peace. And maybe, sometime far in the future, they could be together all the time, as a normal married couple.
And she would be Poor Emily no more.