The Baby (The Boss 5)

Our walk took us outside and onto less serious topics. Neil was desperate to know what was happening with the presidential primaries, though he didn’t vote in the United States. I admonished him for not applying for citizenship, and we quibbled mildly through the familiar argument, which fit us like a comfortable pair of shoes. All the while, we strolled the immaculately kept grounds that tried so hard to not seem like they were part of a mental hospital.

The fences, for example, were tall, native stone walls, but they were still meant to keep patients inside, as evidenced by the uniformed security staff making lazy patrols around the perimeter. The hedges were beautifully sculpted into geometric shapes, the paths were sand-colored crushed stone, but there wasn’t a fountain out here to drown in or anything anybody could climb. The safety measures made the whole place feel unsafe and unsettling to me as an outsider. I found my gaze and mind straying from Neil and our conversation to the other patients enjoying the garden. They all looked so normal. Why were they here?

“So, does anyone ever go full on Girl, Interrupted here?” I asked, gesturing to my neck.

“I haven’t seen that movie,” he admitted sheepishly. “It looked—”

“Like a girl movie.” I rolled my eyes. “I won’t force you to watch it.”

“I have a feeling that, once I’m out of here, mental institution dramas will be fairly low on my list of must-see entertainment.” The fact that his dry humor hadn’t altered bolstered my mood. He went on, “No, I haven’t seen any dramatic episodes since I’ve been here. I’m sure they happen, but they must be kept fairly under wraps. The other patients here are either wealthy or high profile, and I’m sure they don’t trust us to not tell tales.”

“Oh, right. I shouldn’t have asked, maybe.” I chewed my bottom lip. “They made me sign a non-disclosure agreement with all sorts of scary warnings.”

“They made me sign one, too.”

Our shoes crunched on the shallow gravel as we turned for another pass around a row of topiary.

Neil cleared his throat. “May I ask you something personal?”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “We’re married.”

“True.” He still seemed to struggle with asking. “When El-Mudad came to visit you…”

“No.” I shook my head. “We did not sleep together.”

I expected him to look relieved, but Neil just frowned and said, “Ah.”

“That’s not what you wanted to hear?” I looked across the lawn guiltily, to see if anyone could overhear us. What would someone think if they did? Maybe they’d try to counsel Neil right out of our unconventional relationship dynamic. He wouldn’t take kindly to that.

If Neil shared my self-conscious fear, he didn’t lower his voice or even glance around to see if we were alone. “No. No, in fact, I suggested it to him. Didn’t he tell you that?”

“No. Maybe he thought…” I don’t know what he’d thought. “Maybe he was afraid it would sound like a come on if he said, ‘Oh, by the way, your husband said it was cool if you wanted to bang.’”

“Yes, I can almost imagine him using those exact words,” Neil chided.

“Don’t be a smart ass.” I don’t know where my anger came from, but it was suddenly there, so big and hot I could barely contain it. “You don’t get to joke about this. What you did… You abandoned me, Neil! And, now, you’re joking about the fact that you left me all by myself?”

I should have regretted my words at his wounded expression, but I didn’t. He started to say something, and I cut him off. “No. You know, I get that losing your daughter was hard for you. But it was hard for me, too. And for Olivia. And, rather than stay with us and get through this together, you hoarded your pain until you had the courage to try and check out. It’s bullshit, Neil!”

“I was just worried that you might be lonely—”

“Were you worried I might be lonely after you killed yourself?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer.

“You killing yourself? It wouldn’t have brought Emma and Michael back. But it would have destroyed me. You know what? No. It has destroyed me.” Damn it, I didn’t want to cry, but there I was, wiping tears away with my thumb and trying to not smudge my makeup.

I’d just made up my mind to turn and storm away, to leave him here to rot for all I cared, but he put his arms around me, and I was helpless. I needed him to hold me, because he hadn’t in so long. And, stupidly, I needed to be able to pretend that physical closeness would make everything okay again.

“I do love you,” he murmured against the top of my head. “And Olivia. That’s why I’m here. I promise, I’m not going to try to leave again.”

“I’m sorry,” I bleated against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to do this today. I was trying to be supportive, I just—”

“You’re here,” he said, stepping back and holding me by my upper arms. “You’re here, when you could have walked away.”

“Thanks for giving me credit for that,” I said, sniffing through my laughter. “This place requires international travel to get here.”

He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry we’re here, Sophie. I truly am. When I can, I want to make it up to you.”