“No!” I grip the fence with my fingers. “Don’t leave. I need you.”
He stands there. Not leaving, but not saying anything either.
“Please, Harry!” The tears start rolling down my cheeks. “I love you. I thought we were going to spend our lives together. Please help me.Please.”
He shakes his head on the other side of the fence. He slides his sunglasses back on. He’s leaving. Oh God, he’s leaving me here.
“Harry,” I whimper. “Please…”
He heaves a deep sigh. “One time when we met,” he says, “you told me where you think he hides your phone atnight—in the ottoman next to the recliner. There’s a charger in there.”
I nod. “I’ll call you when I get my phone.”
“No.” His voice is sad. “You shouldn’t. Don’t call me. But… you should have your phone. It’s not fair that he took it because of me.”
“Harry…”
“Bye, Tess.”
I cling to the gate as I watch him walk away, suppressing the urge to scream out his name. I loved Harry Finch. I wanted to marry him and spend my life with him. I wanted to have children with him. And now I have a terrible feeling I will never see him again.
Chapter 34
I can’t search for the phone while Graham is still around.
I have to wait for him to go to work. It’s another agonizing half-hour of bringing me back into the living room to introduce me to a woman named Camila. Camila is absolutely beautiful, and it’s also clear that she is going to be my jailor today. Because nobody trusts me to be alone.
After Graham leaves, I’m left alone with Camila. She smiles brightly at me, which makes me want to hit her. “Is there anything you’d like to do today?”
“I’d like to go to work and be a productive member of society,” I say.
The smile drops off her face. “Tess…”
“Don’t worry, I’m just going to watch some television.” I glance at our almost ludicrously large television screen. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
I’m hoping Camila will go in the kitchen or upstairs, but instead, she just stands there, looking at me. “Listen,Tess…”
I shouldn’t have made that sarcastic remark. Now she feels sorry for me. I should have pretended I was happy with my situation. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“We’ll have a nice time today,” she says. “I promise. We can take Ziggy for a walk. Go shopping for whatever you want. Maybe some clothing?”
I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is that why would I enjoy buying clothing? The fun of buying outfits is looking forward to wearing them. But when there’s no tomorrow, the fun is lost.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I force a smile. “That sounds great.”
She frowns, still lingering in the living room. “Was Graham a jerk to you this morning?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, he was fine. He made me breakfast, although it was a little burned. And he gave me that pomegranate juice that I apparently like so much.”
Camila gives me a funny look. “You hate that pomegranate juice.”
“I do?”
“I once poured you a glass of it and you acted like you were drinking cyanide. I mean, I think it’s pretty gross too, but youreallyhated it. Did you like it this morning?”
I remember how Graham set the glass of juice down in front of me. I took a sip and immediately ran to the sink—he followed me there and watched me decontaminate my mouth. At the time, I thought he just seemed worried about me. But in retrospect, he had this little smile lingering on his lips. Like he was amused by the whole thing.
My stomach turns. I’m beginning to think that letter wasn’t right. I’m not sure my husband is such a great guy.
