The Botched Marriage Ch. 09

CHAPTER 9. SPIRAL.

Katie showed up before 9 a. m. in navy scrubs and Crocs, hair still damp, coffee in one hand, some new clinical guideline package in the other. I hadn't slept. I don't think I ever really laid down in earnest.

She walked in without knocking--of course--and looked around, noting the remnants of one kitchen chair and a lamp in the corner. She stared at me for a full five seconds before saying anything, then: "Jesus, Care. You look like a murder confession."

I tried to smile. I think I managed a twitch.

Katie set her coffee down, then grabbed one of the surviving kitchen chairs, flipped it around, and straddled it like a cop in an interrogation room. "So. How fucked are we?"

"I told you most of it."

"No. You told me the bullet points. I need the shit between the bullets, and this time give me all the bullets, too."

So I told her. Everything. I didn't hold back. I described the hotel, the video, the confession, the last yes. She listened. No interruptions. Her face went hard early on, and stayed there. She didn't look away once. When I was done, she didn't speak right away. Just exhaled and rubbed her jaw with the heel of her hand. Then she said the most Katie thing she could've said: "Well. At least it wasn't boring."

I laughed. I actually laughed. She'd always been a funny son of a bitch, Katie. Little fucker. Smart though. My boy's wicked smart type of smarts. Really good to have in the family as an adult, but a bit of a torture chamber back when she was a kid. Not as bad as me, though, of course. Nobody had been the level of pain I was, apparently.

"Katie, I think I might've lost him. I think I might've killed the one good thing I've ever done."

She shook her head. "I can't imagine you've lost him. Not yet. Danny has always been a fool for you. His whole life. But you're dangling by a fucking thread, Care. Like dental floss thin. So every single next thing you say or do matters. A lot."

I nodded. I knew that.

"And thank your lucky stars he is so despondent about just having visitation with his children. He loves you, but he's angry enough with you right now that he would drop you ass if he thought he could have custody. It's losing both that is really flipping him out."

I dropped my head down. That was certainly humiliating. I was literally using my children to protect me from the consequences of my whore behavior. Would they know that in the future? Would they forgive?

"He has been dropping hints about divorce a lot. Openly. He makes it sound like sees it as inevitable. Its such fucking bullshit. I know I fucked up but divorce? Over one night?"

She looked at me like I had two heads for a second, until I dropped my gaze back to the floor.

"I sure hope you've not expressed that opinion to him, Care."

"Of course not. I'm just telling you."

"Well, you might practice not expressing that idea. Like, by never expressing it again, just to be safe. There is nothing for you down that path dude. Nothing."

"I know. I do feel like there is something to talk about there though, about his mental health. It's like he's... traumatized. I know I fucked up. I'm not denying any of it. I just think some of it is weird. It's not him."

"You mean he is treating you different? Because based on what you have said, it's not that surprising."

"It's like he remembers our life different. You know, he told me, like it was a fact, that he hated knowing that I had faked all my orgasms."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that -- that I had faked all my orgasms and he thought I was angry because of having faked decades worth of orgasms. That part of why I did this was to punish him for that."

"Literally faked them? Like, there was no orgasm and you faked it to end the sex?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what he meant."

"Ok. Sure, that's strange. Have you been faking a lot of orgasms recently? Has something changed?"

I told her about the whispered conversation with Tyson then, in more detail. About "real", about chanting yes over and over.

She looked angry, but she swallowed it down. I'm sure I would hear about it eventually, but not right now. Right now she needed to be helpful.

"Well sister, you fucked the pooch for sure. I can see many guys getting insecure after hearing that. But I'm still a bit surprised about Danny. I mean, I've heard you cum with him -- hell half the people in this town have at one point or another, I bet. You can't fake that level of stupidity. You sound like dumbass cock addicted whore when you cum. No offense, of course. Who would want to fake that?"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"I knew you would. Anyway, I'm going to look into this. As a trauma nurse, I do have access to some people who know about this stuff. I'm going to ask around today and see if they can point me in the right direction. But yeah, trauma response is not a bad thought. I'll pull that thread a bit."

"Thanks Katie. You suck but you are the only sister I've got, so you'll have to do."

"Ok. Fuck you too Care. No, like for real. Fuck you. You've really shit on the punch bowl this time."

"I know."

"Ok so, now I'm going to ask you a few questions. I want to see where your tard head is at. You ready?"

"I expected this. You're not just here for me. You want to protect Danny and the kids from me too, if needed. I get that. You're a good egg Katie."

"So let's start with what we know. Four things. I want to hear you say them, and I want you to mean them."

I blinked. "Oh. What are we doing, an intervention?"

"Worse. An audit."

I sat up. "Fine."

Katie held up a finger. "One. You adore Danny. Always have. Idolize him. He's not just your husband, he's your whole mythos."

I nodded. "True."

"Two. You want a man in charge in bed, but you top from the bottom a bit. You always have, with Danny. You want it sexually and so he gives it you. But you have always had him wrapped around your pinky and part of that is that he plays the role you want. He spanks you; you get on your knees to tie his shoes in public; you embarrass everyone at dinner by asking him for fucking permission to go to the bathroom. Some of it is performative, yet at the same time, sexually, it's your honest to God identity."

"All very true."

"Three. You need a man in charge. For real. I don't mean in bed. In life. You want someone who tells you no, who reins you in by the short hairs, who sets clear boundaries you dare not cross. We are not talking about a kink at all here. It's just your wiring. You need it and you are a biblical mess without it. And that part is not performative. When Danny tells you to slow down, you don't argue with him, you just slow down. When he tells you to stop, you freeze on your tracks like a child. When he pats your hand if you are getting out of control, you calm the fuck right down. It's miraculous really. It's certainly been a miracle to the rest of us who have never been able to know what the fuck to do with your crazy ass."

"That is all really true. And that's why living without Danny is not an option for me. He's the only man I will take that sort of bullshit from. I actually hate being told what to do, particularly by dumb arrogant assholes like Tyson. Nobody but Danny gets to hold my reins. I agree."

"Four. You cannot--cannot--expect to get those things from a man you've emasculated. Your sexual need for a man in charge and your need to be a wife under the care of a man are linked. They are one and the same. If you emasculate your man, soon you will find you won't be able to have him in charge of your life.

And being in charge of you is a tough ask. Ask anyone. You are a handful Care. You can't expect Danny to do the one thing for you in life and be your cuckold in bed. Next time he'd try to be in charge, you'd mock him, you'd rebel, you'd spit in his face like you do the rest of us. You will find that his magic is gone. You snuck the first one by him without consent. But if you cuckold him for real--even with his consent--every single thing you love about him will die in front of you.

I didn't answer. This really was the thing, wasn't it. Because if I said yes, it was saying no to a whole bunch of other things, forever.

She leaned forward. "Say it, Care."

Again. Trapped. Nowhere to run. She was right.

"It's true. And that's why I'm fucked. Because I don't know how we get past that. I need Danny in my life. I know that more than anyone, trust me. And I also know what you just said. That Danny is more than my husband. He's my savior. But he can't be both my savior and my cuckold. So that's that."

Silence for a long beat.

Katie sighed and sat back. "Fine. So now tell me what that actually means. Not the drama, not the crying, not the guilt. The next five years. The rest of your life."

I leaned forward, too. "It means I can't ever see Tyson again. Not even once. Not even in a dream."

She nodded. "Correct. But that's not the hard part."

"No?"

"Who gives a shit about some big dicked arrogant asshole. They are a dime a dozen, trust me on that. The hard part is this: Can you accept a life without that part of you ever being touched again? Because it's not about Tyson, not really. It's about what he woke up. You gave him that 'real' because something inside you was dying to be awakened. So now you have to put that thing back to sleep. Forever."

I was quiet. Then: "What if I can't?"

Katie looked straight at me. "Then you leave Danny."

The room went cold.

"You don't drag him through years of torture, hoping he'll magically become Tyson 2.0. You don't try to hide your sexual awakening as a side quest to your fucking marriage. If you can't give it up, you have to walk. And you also have to walk because in this town, nobody is going to help you hide shit, Care. You betray Danny, and your secret will last a month, max."

I shook my head. "I would never do anything behind his back. I know you know that. Not only would I fail, I wouldn't even have the strength to try. I've been away from him one night and I fell like I'm dying already. I need Danny. I need to fix this."

Katie reached for her coffee. "Then you better make your peace with the version of you that only Tyson saw. And by peace, I mean a dignified funeral. Not a last visit, not a last meal. Just a funeral. Because if you keep her alive for much longer, she'll burn this whole house down."

Katie checked the time, sighed, and stood.

"I have to go save drunk assholes lives now," she muttered, grabbing her empty coffee cup. "But before I do--Carrie, I need to say one more thing. And I need you to hear me. Really hear me."

I nodded. I was sitting cross-legged on the couch, feeling like a wrung-out sponge in yesterday's yoga pants. Katie didn't sit. She paced instead, then stopped by the front door.

"I remember Ronnie White," she said quietly.

I blinked. "You were what, eight?"

"Eight and very impressionable," she said. "I remember the whispers. The parents gossiping in the pews. I remember Danny disappearing and you going full joker mode. You stopped cheerleading, stopped smiling, stopped being... Carrie."

I looked away.

"I remember asking Mom if you were dying. That's how quiet the house got. I thought you had some disease, and they were keeping it away from me."

"Katie..."

"No. You need to hear this," she said, stepping closer. "Because that year scared the shit out of me. Not because people were an asshole, not because of losing Danny. But because I saw what happens to you when he's not there."

She crouched down, put a hand on my knee. "You didn't fight, Care. You just gave up and set your whole life on fire. You were all elbows and bravado your whole life when you had Danny by your side. And then it was like someone unplugged all the good in you and left behind the fucking ghost of chuckie. I don't ever want to see that again. I don't want my sister turning into whatever that was again."

I swallowed hard.

"You're surviving right now on adrenaline and shame. But it's not going to last. The crash is coming. You know it is. And when it does, you can't go dark like you did before."

"What do you want me to do?" I whispered.

"You need to let people in," she said. "More than just me. I have six shifts in the next four days. You need help. Support. You're going to need a net when you fall--and you will fall, Carrie. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, but it's coming fast. You can't keep hoping that this will resolve by next week. A lot of damage has been done. It may take Danny years to come back around."

She stood up again, grabbed her bag. "Tell someone. Tell Mom. Tell Marie. Fuck, get a therapist. You should have gotten a therapist back then but we were poor as shit." She chuckled then, like those were somehow the good times. Weird. "But you're not poor anymore. Get a therapist and start doing the work you were supposed to do back then. It's not healthy for a woman to be so fucking dependent on a man. I'm not some fucking feminist - Danny would agree with me. He's human too, you know. Yes, Carrie, Danny is human. He could get run over by a truck one day, God forbid. Don't wait until you're drowning to learn how to swim."

I nodded, but it was weak. I think we both knew I wasn't up for that right now.

Katie opened the door. "You don't have to be strong. But you can't be alone."

And then she was gone. I sat there in the sudden silence, the words ringing in my ears louder than anything Tyson had ever said.

"You can't be alone."

And yet, I already was.

FIVE DAYS.

Sunday was warm, but gray. One of those late-summer afternoons that can't decide if it's still summer or already fall. I hadn't left the house all day, unless pacing in circles counted.

When Danny texted, I thought it would comfort me.

"Be there in 20. Please make sure anyone else is gone before I arrive with the kids."

My heart stopped. I reread it. Not once. Four times.

Anyone else. What did he think I was doing?

The man who knew me better than anyone else in the world was now texting me like a guest arriving at an AirBnB, warning the host to clean up after her orgy. I stood there with the phone in my hand, unable to breathe. The cameras were set up. The house was empty. Had always been empty.

I should have been angry. But I wasn't. I was ashamed. More ashamed than ever.

When he knocked on the door, it was with the same tentative rhythm as Ms. Marie used when she came over after dinner to return a dish. Then his voice--low and polite.

"Carrie. We're coming in now."

Like I was a stranger. Like he wasn't sure if he still belonged here.

The kids ran through and around me, laughing, barely noticing anything wrong. They were just glad to be home. I bent to hug each of them, swallowed hard, and turned to look at him. He barely made eye contact.

I tried to show him the new surveillance system--tried to tell him how I'd spent last night wiring the inside and outside of the house, programming alerts, giving him admin access. He stared at me blankly, then just shook his head.

"We can't live that way, Carrie. Not forever."

"I don't want forever," I said, desperate. "I want proof. So you can see I'm not lying."

"I'm not saying it's not helpful," he said. "I'm saying I don't want to live like this until I die. And I'm in this either forever or not at all."

"You could at least acknowledge I did this for you, asshole," I said to myself, and then buried it.

The conversation ended there. And everything got very quiet.

After the kids settled in the playroom, he motioned for me to sit with him in the kitchen. My heart pounded. I braced for another confession, another blow.

"I have to tell you something," he said.

Fuck me.

He reminded me about the MFMA deal that had been a huge topic in our lives for the past couple of months. How he and Drew had been working nights on a pitch. How, a bit ago, before everything fell apart, they'd submitted a final version of their proposal to the client. How this morning, buried in an email thread, was a confirmation.

They had the account. It would be the largest one in the firm's history. Possibly life-changing for us, as a family. Possibly Danny's big break. This was big.

I smiled on instinct, before I saw the expression on his face. I was wondering if we could maybe celebrate. Hug maybe?

But he wasn't excited at all. He was just... relieved.

He leaned in, whispering so the kids wouldn't hear. "This makes a divorce way less catastrophic. I mean, financially. It would still be catastrophic for us, and for the kids particularly. But if this pans out, we could still be able to keep up with the college funds, pay for St. Vincent's and maintain two cars and two households. It's one of those things where money really does buy something of value."

I stared at him. "You're talking about a divorce like it's good news, Danny."

"I just mean... if it happens. It's survivable now. I wanted to tell you because I'm sure it was worrying you too."

I couldn't speak. I had not spent one second worried about how we navigated divorce. I had spent the whole time thinking about how we must avoid divorce at all costs. How to con him into not divorcing me. That was my goal. Now he sounds like divorce would maybe not be so bad.

"A divorce is still the last option. I'm not rooting for that. You know how I feel about you. But I've been worried sick about what would happen to us financially if we had to go that route. So, for me, yes this is good news. I think you will see the same eventually."

I was just trying not to cry.

And the irony was rich too. He now sounded like me talking him into the cuckolding disaster. "Just go along with it, Carrie, and you will see soon how the divorce will make our marriage stronger." I had been so fucking stupid.

He just kept going.

"It's also going to be... helpful. The workload. It needs to ramp up right now so we can bring them on board. I can finally drown myself in something I can't escape, starting this morning. It has helped already. Honestly, I don't know how I've made it through the past two nights. But this--this gives me somewhere to bury all that darkness. For a little while."

I nodded, numbly. The darkness I created. The darkness that filled his soul when he was near me.

All I felt was dread. They talk about that feeling of dread cuckolds have as the moment approaches. When they don't know if its happening or not, just left behind to guess what their fate will yield. Instant Karma. The universe really was a just place, after all.

"And they are out of town right?" I asked, wearily. "Is part of that workload going to be away from home?"

He nodded. "Driving out tonight, actually. Got a hotel close to their headquarters. I'll be there all week. In the office every day. Late nights. I have to be honest, Carrie, for me it will be a Godsend."

I nodded. I made no effort to pretend this was anything but a gut punch.

I would have been angrier, but sweet Danny, he felt bad for me. After all this, he felt bad for me.

He should have been triumphant when delivering the next line. But he was worried about me.

"I won't be reachable much, and... I'm sorry but I'd appreciate some space. It will be good for the client if I'm not having a nervous breakdown while I'm there, and frankly, I do feel like I need some space to think this through. We both do. It looks like an unsolvable puzzle now. I don't see a way out, and I don't think us talking is helpful. I've just been torturing myself about it constantly now for two days."

I had become fixated on his hands. I wanted to kiss his hands so badly it was making my heart ache. Just that little bit of skin I could see. To just touch his skin with my lips. That would be enough.

I felt like there was not enough oxygen I the room.

"I also don't want to accidentally just stop fighting. Just because it's comfortable, you know. Just because we are so familiar. I don't want us to get caught up in schedules and church and leaking faucets and next thing you know we are back to our routine, always putting the next fight off just because its so painful."

I smiled. "Honestly, I would not hate any of that. What you just described sounds like a cruise to the Bahamas to me right now."

He didn't take the bait. Didn't smile back. Like he knew from a mile away that if he smiled back, I would tenderly reach out to hold his hand. I really was a wicked witch, but he knew all my tricks.

"But it would be wrong. If we don't deal with this, if we bury our head in the sand, it will just stay fixed until the next time it isn't. And then it will hurt even worse. We need to deal with it."

I wanted so badly to scream at him that there would be no next time, but what was the point.

"So, how much space?" I finally asked.

He looked away. He didn't want to hurt me. "I'll be back by the weekend. We can talk then."

I swallowed. "So, no contact. For five days."

He nodded. "Please. I know I'm leaving you the kids and that's a lot to handle, so..."

He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and dropped it on the table.

"Between me, mom and dad, we were able to get twenty four hundred out of the ATM. All the banks were closed on a Sunday, of course, but this is plenty and you don't have to make a trip to the bank. It should pay for all the babysitting and all of Mrs Delgaudio's help you could possibly need. Get some take out if you are overwhelmed too. Just spend the cash to avoid getting yourself into a spiral, OK Carrie? Ignore our budget for this week. You know what I'm saying, right?"

For some strange reason, the cash made me feel like both more of a whore and like a more pathetic wife, all at the same time. "I'm a stay at home mom Danny. I've been taking care of this household for ten years."

"Good. Well, the cash is just in case you need a little extra help."

And just like that, he stood. Kissed the kids goodbye like it was any other Sunday. Then walked past me with a duffel bag and a laptop case like a man heading off to war. I got no kiss even though I would have literally died for one. I didn't even get a pat on the shoulder. I had become a leper to the man I needed like oxygen.

I didn't cry right away. I didn't beg or fall to the floor. I stood by the window. Watched the taillights of his car disappear around the curve. And that's when it hit me.

If he wasn't coming home tonight, and if I couldn't call, couldn't reach for him, couldn't even scream into the void... then I was back in 8th grade already.

Alone. Banished. Unanchored.

And the crash, as Katie warned, was already on its way.

DESPERATION THURSDAY

I held off for as long as I could. Three nights. Then my pathetic, endless stream of texts began the next morning. I couldn't even leave voicemails. The idiot didn't have his voicemail set up. He'd had that phone for just a few months.

But the joke was on me, wasn't it, because I had not set it up for him. I had done it for his prior phones, going back to before we got married, and I had somehow forgotten. I liked any bitches that called his phone to find a woman's greeting. So, it was just texts.

He answered the first few but he soon made it very clear he needed his space, for his own sanity. That we were just torturing each other, and he needed to concentrate on work.

He said it was hard for him because hearing from me drove him mad with jealousy. He also repeated that he didn't want to fall into delusion of acting like everything was OK between us. Of course, him falling into such a delusion was precisely what I needed him to do.

In the end, he said he would silence my texts, that he was working from the MFMA offices and he didn't want to look unprofessional. And that was that. I did not get any more texts back from him.

With all the dignity of a heroin addict, I blew up his phone like I intended to destroy it. Hundreds of texts. Looking back, this was clearly the beginning of my nervous breakdown.

"Can we talk? Please..."

No reply.

"Can we meet halfway and talk please? Like maybe at that restaurant you like at the ski resort?"

No reply.

"Please talk to me, Dan."

No reply.

"Where are you? I want to respect your request to give you space. I swear. I just need one word from you that you are ok. Please I am begging you."

No reply.

"Danny can we please just talk for 5 minutes. I don't want to beg anymore."

No reply

"Baby, just a text."

No reply.

"Why are you doing this to us?"

I did not send that one. I deleted it. I knew full well I had done it to myself.

"I will not survive if I lose you."

No reply.

"I will always love you."

No reply.

"Please, don't do this, Danny."

No reply.

"You fucking asshole answer your fucking phone!!!!"

I did send that one. Followed by a dozen apologies.

After about a day of that, Katie showed up with mom. Danny had texted Katie to let her know I might be having a bit of an anxiety attack, "or something". He didn't tell her the whole story. Just lied and said he was out of town for business, and worried about me. He asked if she could please check on me on her way back from work.

She didn't knock, as usual. She just came in. Mom followed a few steps behind, nervously clutching her purse, like she didn't know if she was here to babysit or stage an intervention.

I was on the couch. Or what had once been the couch. By now it was a wreck--blankets, half-eaten crackers, wine-stained pillows, every device charger we owned tangled into a nest by the side table. My hair was wild. I was in the same sweats from Monday night. My phone was in my hand.

"Jesus," Katie said. "You look like a hostage."

"Thanks," I croaked.

"We brought food," she said, setting the grocery bag down. "Mom made lasagna. Have you been cooking for the kids, what have you all been eating?"

"We're fine."

Katie sat on the edge of the coffee table and studied my face. She was in her scrubs. Probably had come straight from her shift.

"Have you slept?"

"Not really."

She took my phone. I didn't fight her.

She scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled. Her face changed. "Carrie, this is... this is not good. What the fuck is this? Are you trying to get a restraining order?"

Mom crouched by the arm of the couch and rubbed my shoulder like I was a little kid with a fever. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"He left," I whispered. "He left me. He won't talk to me. He's just... gone."

Katie didn't answer right away. Then she looked over at Mom and said, "Let's take the kids for a few days."

"What?" I sat up. "No. They're fine."

"You're not fine, Care," Katie said, gently but firmly. "And if you're not fine, they can't be. We're not judging you. We just want to give you time to get your feet under you and time to get things straightened out with Danny."

"You think I'm gonna hurt them?" I spat. "You think I'm some monster?"

"No," Mom said quickly. "Nobody has said that Carrie. We think you're too overwhelmed to take care of yourself, much less for three babies. You just... you need a break."

"I don't need a break," I said. "I need my husband to come back and stop pretending he's too busy to text me while I'm dying over here."

"Carrie," Katie said, standing now. "You are not dying. You're spiraling. And you've got to slow down."

"I am slowing down," I lied. "I've not moved out of this couch for two days. How much slower can I get?"

They both stared at me quietly. It was remarkable how similar they looked, all of the sudden.

"Look--I know how I've been. The texts, I know. But that's over. I stopped already."

"The last text is from 15 minutes ago."

"I'm in the process of stopping."

The synchronized eye roll was... perfection.

"I'm going to take something and sleep. Just a few pills. Like Tylenol PM, or whatever. I just need rest. Once I've had sleep, I'll feel normal. I swear."

Katie narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to take anything dangerous, are you?"

"No. Jesus. I just need to knock myself out. I just need... quiet."

"Katie, I'm worried about her. Maybe we need to have someone here. Maybe Debbie can come and stay here?"

Clearly, with Mom and Katie looming over me, I had entered a situation in which my bullshit was priced at exactly zero cents per pound.

"Well, I sure don't trust her to not do anything stupid. But she's manic, not depressive. I don't think she's suicidal. Right, Carrie?"

They both turned to me, their eyes pre-skeptical at anything I might say. I had reverted from respected mother, wife, and pillar of the community to screw-up 8th grader in six days.

"I swear. I'm not going to hurt myself. At the very least I need to live long enough to make it up to Danny for what a crap wife I am. So, I'm not going anywhere. If I off myself now that would just be another betrayal. I have to be around for him to either use me like a whore or shit on me for at least a few years."

Katie just looked at the floor, embarrassed. Good, loyal Katie. She had evidently not told mom anything yet.

Mom's mouth was hanging open in horror. "Carrie no. Oh lord Carrie please no! What have you done sweetie?"

Her eyes were brimming with tears already. I looked at Katie and she looked back at me, shaking her head. She had kept my secret even from our own mom. And I had fucked that up, too.

"Carrie answer me!"

"Katie can tell you. I'm sorry mom. I can't. I just can't. But please, it can't go beyond you two. Nobody else. Ok?"

Katie sat back down. "Tard, you think we're going to be dying to spread this tale around? No offense, but Jesus. This is the easiest secret I've ever had to keep."

Mom was still in shock. She had not yet closed her mouth.

"Okay," Katie said, slowly, breathing deeply. "So your plan is to take some sleeping medicine and try to knock yourself out til tomorrow. We can always get Deb in here when you wake up. That sounds reasonable."

Katie looked back at me sadly. "Then what, Carrie?"

"Danny will be back on Friday. I can apologize for not respecting his boundaries. Maybe we can spend a little bit of time together. I will feel better, I promise."

The silence in the room was... well, it was gut wrenching, actually.

I looked from one to the other, desperately. "He said five days. He said he was coming back on Friday."

Katie held my hands. "Care. He said he was coming back to town on Friday. Back to the Miller's place. Did he say he was coming here?"

"No, he didn't say here... but... I mean, I assume we can talk then?"

"Care, I don't know. I haven't talked to him much, but the little I did, he sounded like a ghost of himself. Now he, is depressed. And something else. There is something else wrong there. He sounds like a whole new person. I'm still researching on that.

But what he told me, regardless, is that he wanted Mom and I to come by and make sure you are OK. And if you are not, to take the kids and keep them at Mom's until he gets back. And then, he said he would come by on Friday and pick them up and take them to the Miller's house. He did not say anything about talking to you. I didn't press him on it, but I don't want you to get your hopes up or to be caught by surprise. If I'm misunderstanding what you guys agreed to, that's greaat, I was not there. But, I'm worried about you -- I don't want you to pin all your hopes on tomorrow. It might be a dud."

I was having an out of body experience at that point, watching the scene from the other corner of the room. Katie sounded like a piano without strings. All I could hear was the pounding of the keys against the hammers.

After a long silence, I came up with the right lie. "I get it. I'm not going to flip out, but let me hope a little bit too, OK?"

Katie hugged me then. Long and tight.

"I love you, Carrie," she whispered. "But I'm worried. This feels like 8th grade already and its only been a week. Like you're about to go dark on us. Please... don't go dark."

I nodded against her neck. "I won't. I will try to be strong this time."

She pulled back. "You're not allowed to lie to us."

"I'm not lying."

Mom walked out then and helped the kids pack an overnight bag. She was royally pissed. She adored Danny. She didn't need to say anything. She hadn't even asked "what happened", she'd asked "what have you done?"

The kids kissed me goodnight like it was any other night. Katie made me pinky swear I'd text her before bed, and again in the morning. Mom kissed me like I was a murderer she had to kiss goodbye before they walked me to the electric chair.

And then they were gone. The house was quiet again. Too quiet.

I looked at the door for a long time after it clicked shut.

Then I walked into the bathroom, where there were no cameras, and locked it.

I curled up in a corner, and started to cry.