Break the Chic
"Royce King?" I ask. "I'm, yeah ... He's Jake's campaign manager. Finance guy from old money. Why?"
Detective Brown places the picture back on the mantle and looks at me with eyes full of concern. And I see it.
"We've informed your attorney that your husband's death was ruled a homicide. Based on the range of the blood splatter and the lack of GSR on his hands, the evidence suggests a gunman." Yes. Get on with it already. I know where this will lead them. "Mrs. Black, Royce King was found dead in his Upper East Side home two nights after Jacob's death. There was no connection that first day, but when we dug into his financial, we noticed the contributions to Mr. Black's campaign. The circumstances of his death leaves no room for question. It was suicide. The gun was in his mouth when he pulled the trigger himself."
"What does this have to do with Jake's death," I ask - lead. Edward studies me silently; watches for any sign of emotional turmoil. He'll find none.
"Further digging has presented a new theory, and we're hoping you'll shine some light on it for us. Bank statements indicate that Mr. King and Mr. Black were often staying in the same hotel. Do you know if their connection went beyond campaign manager and candidate?"
I scoff inwardly. They won't have it that easy. "He stays in the same hotel with his staff all the time, Detective. What are you suggesting?" They aren't pushing hard enough.
"We're suggesting they had a relationship, Mrs. Black." Finally. "Your husband and Mr. King had a vacation planned together for April, and there's nothing to suggest this isn't the case."
"You're saying my husband is - was - gay?" I pretend to be in confused denial. I'm so good at pretending. It's been my life for years.
Esme Brown nods and looks at me with apology, as if I'm a lost and mourning wife she's breaking terrible news to. "This is exactly what I'm suggesting, Mrs. Black. Mr. King left a suicide note, filled with sorrow for his lover and the regrets of his actions. We now believe those actions and regrets to be referencing the murder of your husband."
A cry escapes my chest. A real one. Because finally, they've built on the foundation laid so beautifully before them. Maybe I'll be free of the knowledge and memory.
Dot: connected.
hchchchchchchchchchchc
Three years and a million moments later...
Our house is a stronghold, and Edward is mine. He's everything for me and the children. And I wish pure happiness and completeness could flow here. Most of the time it does. He gives me more than I could imagine.
But I've traded one fear for another. Jake is gone, but the threat stretches beyond the grave.
The secrets are so much. It physically aches inside of me, and only Edward soothes the burn.
He is light and day where there was darkness and night.
The more time that passes, the lighter and lighter the burden weighs on me, but it never disappears. Admission locks itself away deep in my mind.
xxxxxxxx
A/N:
One more. Maybe two. And an "alternate ending" for my best bitch.