"What happened to your neck?"
Dennis followed my gaze and touched it, and his hand went rigid.
He tugged at his collar.
"When I was teaching Hailey a lesson just now, she scratched me."
"Scratched, or kissed?"
His expression wavered.
"Angela, what are you talking about? You're just too worked up right now."
He stood, went to the table, and opened the food container.
"I went to the south side of town and got you your favorite soup. You haven't eaten all day. Have some of the broth first, while it's hot."
He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and held it to my lips.
That scent of lemon and sea salt drifted over again.
I pushed his hand away.
I leaned over the edge of the bed and started to gag.
Dennis reached out to pat my back.
I slapped his hand away hard. "Don't touch me!"
"Okay, okay, I won't touch you."
He raised both hands and stepped back. "Sweetheart, don't get upset. I'll go get the doctor."
He turned, pulled open the door, and rushed out.
A moment ago I had almost believed he was doing this for my sake.
But the kiss mark on his neck and the messages I'd just read told me the truth, plain and clear.
He wasn't stopping me from calling the police to protect me. He was protecting Hailey.
For the next two weeks, Dennis never left my side at the hospital.
He wiped my face and fed me.
If I so much as turned over in the middle of the night, he'd sit up at once and hold my hand. "Don't be scared. I'm right here."
When the nurse came in on her rounds, she said to me, "Your husband is so good to you. Every time I come by on my night shift, he hasn't shut his eyes."
I looked at Dennis.
"Yes," I said. "He's always been this good to me."
I remembered the morning we went to get our marriage license. Dennis had just put on his suit.
Hailey called, saying her stomach hurt so badly she was rolling on the floor, begging him to hurry over and take her to the hospital.
Dennis shouted into the phone, "If your stomach hurts, call 911! I'm getting married today. The sky could fall and I still wouldn't come!"
Right in front of me, he blocked her number, took my hand, and walked out the door.
I once thought a man like that would love me for the rest of my life.
"Dennis, I want to go to the police."
I brought it up again.
His hands stopped moving.
"Why are you bringing this up again?"
He came to the bedside. "Didn't I already tell you? I've already made her pay for it."
"I can't just swallow this."
Dennis raised his hand and, with a loud crack, slapped himself across the face.
Then another slap.
"It's all my fault!"
He struck himself left and right. "I'm the one who didn't protect you! I'm useless!"
Red handprints rose fast across his face.
"Sweetheart, do you really have to rip the wound open and show it to everyone all over again?"
He grabbed my hand and made me hit his face with it. "Hit me, get it out of your system, just don't go to the police, all right? I'm begging you!"
I pulled my hand back and said nothing.
Dennis crouched on the floor, covering his face, crying.
At eight that evening, his phone rang.
"It's the office. I'll take this outside."
He walked out of the room.
I sat up and picked up the backup phone he'd just put in the drawer.
I opened the ride history in the app.
The morning of our wedding day.
Dennis had suddenly told me there was a big problem with the wedding setup and he needed to get to the hotel early.
He'd had me take a different car.
The record showed he'd been picked up at our complex, and the destination wasn't the hotel at all.
It was Hailey's apartment.
Then I saw the messages between him and Hailey.
Hailey: 【You have to keep Angela calm. Whatever you do, don't let her call the police!】
