"On Long Island." She smiles sadly. "I always said I'd die if I had to live on Long Island, but he…" She shakes her head. "He gave me your name. If I ever needed help. I told him we'd met at an event. He said all the better. That I could go to someone I know."
"My address?"
"No, I put that together. I… before. I used to follow him. To see what he was doing when I wasn't around. Who he was visiting. I thought… I don't know what I thought."
A man who visited my building?
No one visits my building.
Only Lee. And sometimes Harrison. But Harrison is still here. And Harrison isn't the type to cheat.
He can't lie. He's physically incapable.
"It was a fantasy," she says. "Watching his life. Imagining myself as a part of it." She pours milk into her mug. Stirs with a teaspoon. "I almost believed it sometimes. I almost saw the possibility."
I follow her lead. Pour milk, stir honey, sip my tea. It's not as strong as it normally is, but it's still rich, warm, sweet. Comfort—and energy—I need.
"Sorry. I shouldn't ramble. It's bad enough I showed up announced. Terrible manners."
"It's okay." I know how scared she is. How much she needs a friend.
I can't discuss her husband without making things worse.
But I can talk about this.
"It's nice to chat sometimes," I say.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." For a few days. After that, I don't know. But I can figure it out.
"Thank you." Relief floods her expression. "I used to talk to him. My friend. About everything. I was like a lovestruck teenager, sharing my hopes and dreams. Then he was gone and I…"
"What was he like?"
She smiles, all warmth and softness, no memories of ugly things. "Sweet. Romantic. Reckless. He didn't care that I was older. He didn't care I was married. He wanted to save me. Even before he knew I was in real trouble. When he thought it was only a loveless marriage."
"That is romantic."
She nods. "I never doubted his devotion, but he was young. Naive. He thought I was a princess in a tower. He thought he could slay the dragon. At first, I didn't believe him, but after a while… he convinced me." She looks to me. "Has anyone ever loved you that way? Openly? With his entire heart?"
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"It was like the Wizard of Oz. When Dorothy first lands in Oz and everything goes from black and white to technicolor. I didn't know I was living in black and white. I didn't know what I was missing."
"He sounds like a great guy. I'm sorry."
"He was." She smiles. "Strong without being hard."
"My dad is the same way."
"Your adopted father?"
My shoulders tense.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—I looked into you, that's all. I know it's not my business, but I…"
She's scared. She wants to know she can trust me.
It's understandable.
I understand.
But I still want to tell her to fuck off. My past is mine. My fucked-up family is mine. My fucked-up history is mine.
Not a stranger's.
Even a stranger who desperately needs help.
"He… his father…" She looks to her son. "He didn't know I was pregnant. I didn't know yet. It was early. My husband thought it was a miracle. We had tried before, but we hadn't… He was happy, for a time. He was peaceful. I'm not sure what changed, what made him wonder, but something did. He started acting suspicious. Hostile. It was a matter of time, so I… I was staying with a friend, but that's no longer an option."
"So you're here?"
She nods.
"Do you know what my company does?"
"Of course."
"We don't run a shelter. We don't have the resources to house anyone long term."
"I know."
"I can recommend one—"
"Then what?"
"We need to find somewhere safe for you to live."
"There isn't anywhere. My husband… he's a powerful man."
"We help lots of people with powerful spouses."
"He's not afraid to play dirty."
I won't tell her she's not in danger. She is. Leaving is dangerous. For everyone.
It doesn't matter how much money or power an abuser has—
They're dangerous.
"If it's necessary, we can help you disappear." It's off the books. Rare. Illegal. The government frowns on fake identities.
She stays apprehensive.
"That's the nuclear option. A new name, a new country, never contacting old friends or family. Your sister won't be able to see—"
"Seb."
"She won't be able to see Seb again. If he has any other aunts or uncles, godparents, nannies, teachers… No one."
She nods with understanding. "How long would that take?"
"A few weeks."
"Could I stay here?"
"In my apartment?"
She looks around the room. "I understand it's unusual, but I… I trust you."
It's hard to say no to that. Especially when I know it might send her into the arms of a dangerous man. "This building isn't as safe as others."
"Please."
She's scared.
Desperate.
Maybe her husband did kill the other man.