How many red flags can you overlook before you fall into the trap of becoming an accessory to murder?
Charge one:
Perverting the course of justice.
Charge two:
Obstructing the administration of Justice.
Charge Three:
An accessory to murder after the fact.
You see shit like this on the news and think that would never happen to me.
You watch documentaries and express concern in that "Oh the wife would have known something..."
When you love someone unconditionally, and I truely mean unconditionally; you would do anything for them.
You would raze cities, clean inexplicable blood stains without question, burn evidence and dismember without batting an eyelid.
This is my story of how I found myself in this exact situation and our final outcome.
Upon reflection, his behaviour was concerning from the get-go. I fell for every excuse and reason for him leaving late at night and not returning until the early hours of the morning.
Leaving for work on time but returning past due.
Initially, I was convinced I was becoming paranoid, overthinking, looking too much into things that weren't my business.
In the beginning, the mystery blood stains were minimal - not warranting questioning, I ignored it as I revelled in recent post-marital bliss.
It was a year after our wedding when things started to take a turn for the worst.
He wasn't returning home for dinner. Many nights I was left sitting alone at the dining room table, no returned calls or texts. Not a single correspondence to let me know if I should have cooked for him, if he'd be home...nothing.
Friday the 13th October, he returned home looking exhausted, his Valentino suit was dishevelled, his red tie was loose and dirty; and his hair was a mess, definitely not the way it was when he left 13 hours prior.
His dark brown hair was usually shaved at the sides and the long hair at the top, styled and quiffed back. This was strange for him as he was quite proud of his appearance; he knew he looked well and used it to his advantage.
I could hear the front door close, echoing throughout the hallway from the dining room. The light of the black candles in the matte black sconces flickered by the wind, throwing the golden light across the dark mahogany table.
For a man returning home unusually late to his panicked wife, he was too calm and nonchalant about his absence given his current appearance.
Setting his briefcase down against the leg of the table, he approached me, gently stroking my left cheek with his hand; stopping and holding my face.
Melting into his touch, briefly ignoring the dread that filled me as his Hazel eyes scoured my face for a semblance of reassurance before placing a kiss on my forehead.
"I'm so sorry I'm late honey, I got caught up with overdue work..."
His facial expression was sickeningly sweet for the dead, steely look behind his eyes.
I shivered as my stomach flipped, butterflies fighting for freedom but simultaneously quelling the roaring internal noise as I was getting the touch I have been craving for quite some time.
He pulled the chair out at the opposite end of the table and sat down; smiling sweetly at me.
Letting out a defeated sigh, I stood up and made my way to the kitchen to reheat his dinner for the 6th time in the past fortnight.
"So how was your day darling?"
Calling back to him as I took his plate out of the oven.
To everyone he knew, Spencer was cunning, manipulative, emotionally detached and cold.
He had the innate ability to fool those who were not close to him yet he seemed to forget that I could read him.
I'll be honest, all the times in which he was at home, he was a loving and doting husband but the past few weeks have marked a notable change in his personality.
"Oh you know, the usual...fixing everyone else's mistakes and cleaning up their messes... Brian fucked up a contract worth over 1.2 Million and I had to claw it back..."
When I told you previously that Spencer was able to use his looks to his advantage; this was accompanied by smooth charm and a sharp wit that could pierce even the steeliest of exteriors.
He had such a way with words that made him very difficult to resist as either a friend, a corporate client or a wife.
Returning to the dining room, my heels clicked across the floor as i set the plate in front of him.
As I withdrew my hands, taking one hand in his he kissed the back of it, letting out a content sigh.
The anxiety returned - knowing he was hiding something from me but I just couldn't place it.
As much as I wanted to know, I wasn't sure if I was ready for the truth yet.
