Mary's Bones

THIRTY-FOUR

"I-I can explain. . ." I began.

"So, you knew about these? When were you going to tell me?" He waited.

I couldn't find it in me to give him a proper response. So, I stood there like a lost puppy, rolling my hands together. It was something I often did when I knew I fucked up and couldn't dig my way out. It was one of the main reasons I could never lie my way out of trouble with my parents.

He seemed to have caught on because he let out a hard laugh. "You weren't going to tell me at all, were you?"

"I-I just"—a sigh of defeat barged out of my mouth—"no, not exactly. But I—"

"Don't," he warned. "Please. No more lies or excuses. Just the truth."

"I wasn't," I mumbled. The room fell silent.

"So, you were going to let this sweep under the rug, huh? Angie, all I asked was for you to stay out of trouble. You promised me you would. You promised Dr. Welsh. I can't believe you've been lying to me. Why didn't you hand these over to me or even the Chief? Angie, you've been hiding so much important information!

"Do you know how much legal trouble you could have gotten into withholding these files? They're on record, Angie. What the hell were you thinking? Please don't tell me you've been doing all this on your own," he gathered the papers in one bunch, barely able to catch his breath, as he rambled on.

"Look at this," he went on, "pictures, locations. There's even a map! You've had so much hidden under the bed! Is this what you've been doing behind my back when you go out?"

"John, it's not like that. I swear," I tried to intervene, interrupting him, "I admit, I have been lying to you. I know. But you don't understand—!"

"I don't understand!?" He raised his voice.

I flinched as his feet thumped along the floor until he was in front of me. He kept his distance. And he clenched the edge of the papers tightly, nearly crumpling them.

"Please, tell me what I don't understand. Because I seem to not understand anything. What about Rosemary? We were just talking about keeping her out of harm's way. You said yourself that you were worried about keeping her safe. I don't get it," he spat with a laugh.

Veins were throbbing from the side of his head. He hadn't succeeded in hiding them. I could just see the anger fuming from his ears as his face turned red. But there was always that one trigger word that sealed the deal for me. Suddenly, I found myself joining the screaming match.

"I have been taking Rosemary's safety into consideration! Do you think I'm stupid? Every action I take, I take with Rosemary in mind! I'm the one who gave the police that tip on Holly Adams, for Christ's sake!" I gritted my teeth, fists balling at my sides.

His eyes widened. I didn't miss the tremble in his fingers as he lifted one to me. "Y-you. . . You were the one who called anonymously?"

"I-I. . ." I just then realized I'd let the secret slip. "I did."

"Then, the other girls'—yet another laugh shot out of his mouth—"of course. It all makes sense now." It was definitely not the reaction I was expecting. He threaded his fingers through his hair, resting his hands on top of his head. I watched the papers crumple more as they sat in between his hands and his hair.

"Just wow," was all he could say, "where did you find these files?"

"In Cory's bin," I mumbled, "the night you convinced me to look through his belongings."

"Angie, I-I . . . I really don't know what to say." Neither did I, was what I wanted to add.

"I thought we were better than that. I thought our relationship was better than that. Why didn't you just tell me about Holly? I could've handled it. I'm your husband. How the hell did you even know where to find her?" His tone was so broken. So defeated. I thought he'd crack.