Resist

I didn’t know what chance I had of getting it. Someone was watching me. Listening to the pain. They owed me.

A few seconds later the agent who had escorted me to the bathroom walked in with a yellow notepad and a ball-point pen. She placed them on the desk and left.

I pulled out the chair and sat.

There had to be a timeline. There had to be a plan. A methodical way he targeted me. I started with a chain of bullet points on the left side.

Agent Kenneth sipped his coffee. He didn’t interrupt me while I made my columns. He seemed to accept I had to do this.

I wrote down our first series of dates. Under each one I jotted down the things we discussed: my career, his family, how often my roommate was home. The column continued with how dates turned into routine nights and weekends together. Our vacation at the winery. And then I saw it.

I saw Vaughn in the apartment. Always looking over the threshold of Greer’s bedroom door. I heard his voice in my ear: no roommate tonight? We have the place to ourselves?

And each morning he would ask if she had returned. Should we make more coffee in case she came home.

I scribbled every mention of Greer on the sheet of paper until I had to flip to the second page.

It had been there. Laced in all our conversations. His nonchalant way of drawing her into a conversation. His quick way of immediately pivoting to another topic. Until one day it all collided into a crossroads of perfect timing.

Greer returned to the apartment with everything from her office. Vaughn was on the deck. And we left him. Alone.

I gripped the pen, bearing down onto the paper. I almost scratched through it, I wrote with such force.

Agent Kenneth leaned forward. He must have detected I had discovered something.

It had seemed abrupt that afternoon, but I brushed it off as Vaughn’s usual unexpected work hazards. The minute Greer and I had returned from the grocery store he announced he had to travel.

I could see it play out. The way he swept me into the shower. The pain in his words when we admitted how much we loved each other. The good-bye. And then several days when I couldn’t reach him when I was in the middle of a family emergency.

It was as if I had been knocked flat on my back again. It had been obvious. Good-bye sex. It had been over the minute he walked out the door. He had the files. His job was done.

“Miss Charles?” Agent Kenneth interrupted the horror movie playing in my head.

“Yes?” I rested the pen on the ink-stained pages.

“Have you made a decision.”

I stared into his eyes. “I have.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I gripped the railing with every step I took. I couldn’t look up, only down at my Keds. The sides were scuffed. The fabric worn. I reached the landing. I had to have the strength to go inside, but I wasn’t sure where to find it. I had been drained of emotion. What was left was an empty shell.

I turned the handle. Greer waited inside for me.

“Thank God they let you go. Are you ok?” she asked.

I nodded, but I was numb. I looked down. My suitcase was still in the middle of the floor. I didn’t know where to move. Sit down? Hide in my room? I was frozen.

“How did this happen, Elliot?” she snarled.

My head snapped when I heard the accusation in her voice. Our eyes locked. I did have an emotion left—defensive anger.

“You think I knew? That I had something to do with this?”

She rose to meet me. “You had no idea your boyfriend was a hired criminal? None whatsoever?”

My eyes pierced together in defiance. “You actually believe I knew about Vaughn?”