Violet swallows her first bite of the sandwich and takes a sip of milk.
We eat in silence for a moment before she, looking out the window instead of at me, says, “I can’t believe you tried to quit my job.”
I drop my napkin on my plate. “Well, believe it. You don’t get mistreated by anyone. I won’t allow it.”
She rolls her eyes. She’s been sassy today. And that’s a good thing. Way better than sullen and teary eyed. And I’m not trying to stress her out – I just want her to know she’s covered. She doesn’t have to get mistreated at a job she doesn’t need. She doesn’t have to worry about a paycheck. She won’t get bullied by anyone if I have a say in it.
She blows out a long breath, then takes another bite. After she swallows, I speak. “What’s it gonna take to prove myself to you?”
“I don’t know. But maybe start with the truth. All of it.”
“Can you take it?” I ask.
“I don’t know. But I know I can’t handle any more lies.”
“But the truth, Violet? Do you want it or are you asking me to be someone I’m not? Don’t ask for the truth if you aren’t prepared to face facts. I am who I am.”
“And who is that?”
“A man who won’t sit back and get fucked over. A man who won’t hesitate to play dirty to get what he wants. And Violet… that man wants you.”
She stares at me, eyes roving over my face, and I don’t know if she’s ready to face those facts yet.
Her phone rings and it breaks the spell. We both glance at it. Susanna.
She winces and flips it face-down.
If Susanna knows Violet’s carrying my baby, she could be a help to me. The girl who didn’t hesitate to tase that shit-stain fucker might not take as much issue as Violet did with my brand of retribution.
Though maybe even she’d think I’d gone too far. Do I think I’ve gone too far? Not at all. In fact, I’d like it if I had access to him right now without having to leave her alone. Lucky for him that I don’t.
“I don’t know if I can take it. I don’t know anything right now.” She massages her temples with her fingertips.
“You’re my wife. You’ve got me at your back. Nobody fucks with you without paying for it. That’s just how it is. You don’t have to eat shit, ever. I don’t want you to feel stressed, scared, or worried. I want you to know you’ve got me to do any and all heavy lifting and dirty work. We’re gonna get through this and you’re gonna see… you and our baby are my priority.”
“What about with you, though? You’re trying to strongarm me here. Which is a bit like you making me eat shit, isn’t it?”
“I wanna talk to you. That’s what I want. I want you to know that while I can’t say I regret giving that piece of shit payback, I hate that I was careless enough that you suspected betrayal from me, that you’ve carried any burden the last week. That I’ve hurt the trust between us. I fuckin’ despise that you’re second-guessing my feelings for you because baby, they’re genuine. I want the stress off your plate so you can grow our baby knowing you’ve got everything you need. Financially, emotionally, all of it.”
“What about Ray though? What happens to him?”
“Are you saying you’re willing to talk this out? It’s not gonna stress you out to do that?”
“I want to know what you think is the resolution there. Because I can’t think of any and that’s gonna stress me out.”
“On the surface, it looks like I have a couple choices. Though because not all of them are guaranteed to work, that narrows it. Anything not a hundred per cent guaranteed is off the table for me. I don’t hedge bets without the right odds.”
She scoffs. Yeah, I get the irony of my statement, but don’t bother to comment on that.
“What won’t work,” I continue, “turning him in to the cops and hoping he’ll keep his mouth shut. I can’t put faith in any promises he would do that. Can’t chance he won’t try to get back at me later. His word means nothing.”
She sips her milk and takes another bite of her sandwich. Reading her body language and facial expression, I know she doesn’t disagree.
I continue, “I could get rid of that problem permanently. But you’ve made it clear you’re not okay with that.”
“So what’s left?” she asks, staring out the window. “Keeping him imprisoned indefinitely? That’s not okay with me and knowledge of it also makes me an accomplice. Is that why you married me, so I wouldn’t be forced to testify against you?”
Now I’m the one who scoffs. Though it’s not like that didn’t cross my mind. I don’t bother to say that and cloud the waters because bottom line, I didn’t marry her for any reason other than the desire to spend the rest of my life with her.