Ainsley watched them go, wincing in sympathy as she saw Steve’s tight grip on the back of Jenny’s arm. That was a man with control issues, and likely anger management problems as well. Unless she missed her guess, he’d very likely bribed the Woodses to help gaslight Jenny so she wouldn’t leave him.
But why? Why hang on to a marriage he himself was disrespecting? Was it just for the image? Or something more?
Whatever his motivation, Ainsley hoped that when she and Santiago brought down the Woodses, this guy got what was coming to him as well.
* * *
Santiago shut the door of the cabin with a sigh and leaned back against the cool, wooden surface. He was physically exhausted, which made no sense at all. He’d spent most of his time over the past few days sitting—in group counseling sessions, in couple’s therapy sessions, in one-on-one sessions. So. Much. Talking.
His body was stiff from disuse, his muscles achy with a need to move. If only he could muster the energy!
On some level, he’d known this would be an emotionally challenging week. What he hadn’t predicted was the effort required to control his reactions, to sell his performance as a dissatisfied husband looking for a way out. No amount of time spent at the gym could provide that kind of conditioning.
He felt a touch on his arm and looked down to find Ainsley watching him, her brows drawn together in a slight frown. “Talk to me,” she said. “I’m worried about you.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m okay.” Her concern warmed him from the inside, restoring some of his equilibrium. Her presence anchored him in reality, helping him shrug off the facade he wore all day during the retreat. He’d quickly come to look forward to their evenings in the cabin, the time they spent alone together giving him a chance to recharge and prepare for the next day of lies.
Their evenings had already fallen into a pattern, one that seemed to suit them both. They retired to the cabin after dinner and both changed into casual clothes. Ainsley made herself a cup of decaf coffee while he sipped on tea. Then they sat on the sofa and talked. Mostly about the events of the day, but other things, too. Like her brother’s case. The interviews he’d managed to conduct before the retreat. What she thought might be going on, who could have sent that first, shocking email about her brother’s parentage.
Occasionally, they would flirt with something more personal. But they usually skated around those topics, as if by silent mutual agreement. This week was already complicated enough. No need to make things more difficult.
The way she was watching him now, Santiago feared she was about to break their unspoken understanding. So he pushed off the door and headed for the kitchenette. “Just a long day,” he said over his shoulder. “Want me to start your coffee?”
“That’d be great, thanks,” she replied. “I’m going to go change.”
“Take your time,” Santiago said. The longer she was in the bedroom, the more time he’d have to regain his composure. It would be so, so easy to really open up and talk to Ainsley. But he couldn’t let himself get emotionally involved with her again. It wouldn’t be fair to either one of them.
He grabbed the small carafe and filled it with water from the tap, then poured it into the coffee maker. Once he got the coffee brewing, he started gathering the things for his tea. After a few minutes, he heard the soft sounds of Ainsley’s slippered feet on the wood floor and knew she’d returned.
“So how was your day?” she asked around a yawn. “Learn anything new?”
Santiago turned around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not really,” he said. “Just more confirmation that some people are total monsters.”
“Tell me about it,” she said. She shook her head as she dropped into one of the chairs at the small table. “There’s this woman in my group—her name is Jenny. She opened up today during our group counseling session.” She launched into the story of this poor woman and her emotionally abusive husband. Santiago felt his heart break for Jenny, and wished there was something he could do to help her and her son. Having grown up in a house with two parents who hated each other, he knew firsthand the difficult childhood that was surely in store for the baby.
“I tried to talk to her after the session, but her husband interrupted us,” Ainsley continued. “He was a real jerk about it, too. Makes me wonder how much worse he is behind closed doors, when he’s not worried about making an impression on other people.”
Santiago frowned. “What’s his name again?”
“Steve.” Her disdain practically dripped from the word.
A tingle of worry shot down Santiago’s spine. “I know him from my sessions. He’s a total ass.”
“Yeah, I figured that out pretty quickly.”
The coffee maker gurgled, signaling its completion. Santiago poured Ainsley a cup and placed a tea bag in his own mug of steaming water. He carried both to the table and took the chair opposite her. “No, I mean he’s got a temper.”
Ainsley’s eyes flashed with anger. “Is he hitting her? She didn’t mention physical abuse, but after what I saw today, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Santiago shook his head. “He hasn’t mentioned that, and I doubt he’d admit it. It’s one thi
ng to say you’re cheating on your wife because she’s not interested in sex anymore. It’s quite another to confess to beating her.”
Ainsley sipped her coffee with a frown. “I suppose you’re right.” She was silent a moment, then leaned forward. “I’m convinced he bribed the Woodses as well. Is there anything we can do to bring him down, too?”
Santiago couldn’t help but laugh; despite her faded sweatshirt, threadbare flannel pants and messy ponytail, there was a fierce air about Ainsley that only a fool would dismiss.
“We can expose his lies, for sure. And I will personally offer my services to his wife, if she decides to divorce him, after all this is wrapped up. Pro bono, of course.”