Part VI
For three years she believed him to be a government contractor. It was an easy enough cover. It was really only a half-truth. The constant travel, the odd hours. She could understand it. Izzy herself was a lobbyist. She had her own clients, her own business and travels too—California, New York, Washington.
.
It was easy enough to pass it off. Until Vilena.
When he came home, he woke her up with kisses, and she drowsily accepted him into her bed. It wasn't until morning, that Barney realized something was wrong.
"Stop it," she says, curling away from my roaming fingers. I roll over to wrap my arms around her, but when I do, she jumps up from our bed as if she's been burned. I can only sit up at stare at her.
"What's the problem?" I ask, but now she's moving around the room, gathering her clothes from where they fell the night before, slipping into her panties, and scouring for her shoes.
Now I'm up, and trying to calm her down. Trying to get her to stop. But when I stand before her, she ducks away from me each time, she's crying silent tears…what the hell did I do…
Finally, I stop trying to be gentle and just grab her, right as she's trying to slip by me to grab a shoe.
"Izzy, stop. Tell me what's wrong." I've got my arms around her, but she's thrashing, trying to get me to let her lose. Her fists pound my chest, but she won't look at me. I'm trying to figure out where it's all coming from.
"You killed those people! Barney! You killed them!" She's crying hard and for the first time I'm struck completely silent.
In her hands there's a picture. The one I still held from the general's daughter. She's holding a photo of Sandra in the other, and it dawns on me…the assassination's been all over the news. Izzy's not dumb, and she's put two-and-two together. The length of the trip. My "contractor" status…the details have leaked out-not enough to break our covers, but enough to be a dead giveaway to a woman like Isobel. I can't lie. But I can't tell the truth, because it's complicated.
Things got confused. It was more than the assassination—It was what prompted us to do it. What prompted me to do it. I did it, not for love of country. I did it for a woman.
And how do I tell the woman I love that I thought about it...about risking it all, throwing away what was good between us just for one time...
When I saw Sandra I got weak. She took me by surprise and I went back for her. When I looked at Sandra I saw Izzy, an the two melded together for me.
My arms drop to my side and, because she didn't expect it, she's falling backward from her own momentum. Her head hits the floor and immediately, a nasty gash blooms.
My first instinct is to reach out and touch her, but she's already moving away. She painfully gets to her feet and touches her forehead and sees the blood on her fingertips. She looks at me, her eyes big, and sad, as she grabs her purse and moves backward to the door. I'm still standing here, rooted to the spot, and I can't move as I watch this unfold before me.
She pauses at the door and turns to look at me. Now there are tears in her eyes. And she knows that I can't stand to see her cry. "Barney, she whispers, I'm sorry. I'm just scared." And then, she's gone.
I hear the door slam and that it. Now it's just quiet, and the silence screams in my ears.