I’d lied to Marisa when I said I’d not told anyone about Clare’s pregnancy. I’d told Jack last year. It was New Year’s, another time of year rife with triggers, and I’d had too much to drink. I’d whispered my secret and immediately regretted it. Time and booze had given me the permission to betray Clare.

Jack had not said much, frowned as if he were working this bit of information into a bigger puzzle. He’d held me close, asked about the baby’s father. I didn’t know. He’d kissed me and taken me back to our home. As we’d made love, I could’ve sworn Clare was standing in the corner, staring at me, her gaze filled with pain.

Now he tipped my face back with his crooked index finger. “Did you ever tell anyone?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. “No. Only you. I told Clare I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I shouldn’t have told you.”

He nestled his chin on the top of my head, and he wrapped his arms tighter around me. “No, it’s good you did. I’m not a fan of secrets. Especially between us.”

But it hadn’t been his secret or mine; it had been Clare’s. And I’d betrayed Clare when I’d told him. “Should I tell Marisa?”

“Don’t tell anyone. The cops don’t take kindly to witnesses who held back information. Clare is the past. You’ve got to let her go.”

Jack was right. Clare had dominated the past. And our baby would rule the future. “What if Marisa doesn’t let this go?”

“She will,” he said. “She’s never chased after this case for more than a week or two before she loses interest.”

I looked up at him, realized he was staring at me. “You think so?”

“I know so. It’s not good for her or her sobriety.” He tightened his hold.

“You’re right. I need to stop worrying.”

Soon Marisa would give up her yearly quest for whatever truth she thought was out there, and we’d all get back to our lives.

I’d never told Jack about the camera. Maybe blabbing about the baby had shocked me into silence. There were plenty of reasons to keep the camera secret now. It would bring the cops and reporters swarming back into my life, and Marisa would be pissed. This was a secret worth keeping. I’d the baby to consider now. Blood was thicker than water.

36 HIM

36

HIM

NOW

Friday, March 18, 2022

6:00 p.m.

Memories were my worst enemy. The one that now played over and over was seeing you hit that utility pole. I could hear the brief squeal of tires, the impact, the crunch of metal, the shattering of glass, and the hiss of the cracked engine block.