"Believe her or not, she's got you a misdemeanor charge."
I'm probably going to court for that, and all this might end up getting to Carey's father. Who knows how he would react? His perfect daughter-in-law with a shoplifting charge. That would ruin the image he was crafting. "Your father is going to find out, isn't he? I'll call him and explain."
"You're not going to do that," Carey said forcefully.
"I'm sure he will understand if I explain it to him before it comes out. I mean, I am going to have to go to court."
"You won't be going to court."
"Why not?"
He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. "The charges have been dropped. For the both of you. I had to call in a favor from a friend. So don't worry, your little escapade has been buried."
I couldn't imagine that he did it for me. I was sure Carey would let me rot and suffer the consequences of my actions, but he had done the opposite. "Thank you."
Carey jerked his shoulders. "You're a Hawthorne now. Perks of being part of the family."
"I am soo sorry," Darcy said for what was at least the fourth time during our conversation at lunch the following week. The lunch itself was an apology gift, and so was the spa treatment we were coming from. Each apology was accompanied by a statement about how she's trying to stop and that she never meant to get me in trouble. Or that she didn't think we would get caught. She kept over explaining herself, but skirting the actual issue, and at some point I had to ask.
"Why shoplifting? You can afford the bottle of wine. Hell, the entire store if you wanted."
She pinched her forehead. Wincing, she said, "My therapist says it's a ploy to get attention." She closed her eyes. "That I secretly want to get caught. It all stems from the child neglect I experienced as a child."
"What? Your parents didn't love you enough."
She scoffed. "If they were around. I was raised by nannies and my mother was never there. I mean, she was there, but she would always be in another room. Planning some party or hosting said party. As for my father, he wasn't barely there. And when he was, he was well kinda abusive."
"Oh, Darcy."
"I know, poor me, right? I get it, I'm privileged. But you don't feel the privilege when that belt is spanking your legs."
I extended my hand over the table, took hers, and squeezed it.Everything about her has always seemed so perfect and fun. I've never thought she was a victim of abuse or that her life was so lonely growing up.
"Don't feel sorry for me," she added. "My life is better than most people. Trust me, I know." She withdrew her hand andpicked up her cutlery, as well as a chipper tone. "Enough about me. What about you?" she leaned in conspiratorially. "What about Carey? How did he take it? He looked downright livid when he came to the station."
"He hasn't spoken to me since."
Darcy's eyes widened. And I realized I might have let more than I wanted to slip. It was normal in our marriage for us to not speak for three days or more. A week was the most we had gotten through without communicating, but to me it was understandable, considering what I had done and the strings he pulled on my behalf. "It's fine. That's just how we are."
Darcy's interest piqued. "You're a year into your marriage and it isnormalfor you two not to speak to each other for aweek?"
Oh shit. "Yeah. I mean, we've known each other for a long time and that's how it is sometimes."
"Uh… Take it from someone who's been in four marriages. When your partner isn't speaking to you and you're still in the early days, there's something wrong that you need to fix pronto. Otherwise, it will grow into a mountain you can't climb."
"It's fine. Carey can be a little stubborn. I am sure he'll come around."
"Tell me at least you're doing it." She stabbed her fork into bits of salad as she spoke. "If he leaves your bed, that's when you really need to worry."
I took a little too long to respond.
Darcy paused mid chew. She washed her salad with her mimosa and tilted her head. "You are having sex, right?"
Again, I took too long to respond. I didn't want to lie to her, especially after she had been open and vulnerable with me. But I wasn't sure if I should tell her the truth. Defeated, I shook my head.
"That's not good," she said.
"It's not what you think. Our marriage, that is."
