D iana

James isn’t picking up. Every phone in the house is ringing, ringing, but the one number I need to reach goes straight to voicemail .

I pace the conservatory. This place has been my sanctuary, but the shiny dumb canes and bushy ferns that once sheltered me from the afternoon light now seem to crowd in on me. And that heron’s back in the koi pond, bold as you please. I flap my hand at it. It blinks its flat yellow eye, unperturbed .

What happens now? Does this...end? Do I get a chance to explain? Or will James toss the shredded contract at my feet? Maybe a couple of fifties for good measure ?

He wouldn’t. He’s never been cruel .

Keys rattle in the front door. My face goes hot, even as my blood turns to ice .

“Diana?”

I freeze in place. Nowhere to run, even if I wanted to. “In here .”

James stumbles over a flowerpot, almost losing his balance. He looks pale and sick, eyes squinting against the light. I reach for him without thinking, but he shies away. Like he can’t bear to touch me .

“I’m—“

“I’m so sorry!” He falls to his knees, so abruptly I almost grab for him again .

“You’re sorry?” That, I wasn’t expecting .

“I knew this would happen! All along—didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I try...?” He gathers his fists on his knees. “I made you a target, and now I’m supposed to shoot you down!” He sighs. “Tell me it’s all a huge mistake .”

I can’t look at him. Can’t speak .

“Then... It’s true ?”

I can only nod .

“Why?” He sounds wounded. Desperate. Like he’s begging for the explanation I can’t give, words that would make all this go away .

“I guess I...wasn’t thinking.” I go to the French doors, pressing my palms to the glass. “The check—it arrived maybe a week before...before the end. And I forgot all about it.” My eyes start to sting. Even here in the shade, I can still feel the sweltering heat of the furnace, turned up all the way to compensate for the draft from the windows—for every window in the house, thrown open to the winter, and the smell of sickness still wouldn’t air out. Maybe it was all in my head—I could smell it everywhere I went, on everything I touched .

“Diana?”

I realize I haven’t said anything for a while. Long enough that my throat’s closed up. I swallow hard. “When Dad finally died, there was nothing, nothing worth doing—nothing I wanted, needed, cared about ....”

“You don’t have to do this .”

“Obviously I do!” There’s a small, furious part of me that wants to kill James right now. I squash it down hard. He didn’t open this can of worms. “I’m sorry. Sorry. Let’s just say there came a morning when I decided to get out of bed. Get dressed. Live again. So I did the shopping, shoveled the snow, went to the bank, and.... I ....”

“You were going through the motions.” His voice cracks. I stare at the heron in the pond, hating it with every fiber of my being .

“It wasn’t till months later, I realized what I’d done. And I didn’t have the money any more. Couldn’t pay it back. No one seemed to have noticed, so....” I blink hard, till the world stops swimming. “There’s no excuse .”

“So he was...still alive when the check was issued ?”

Still alive. “Yes .”

“Not sure that’s even illegal. You were his caregiver. Paying for the last of his care.” There’s no relief in James’s voice, no indication anything’s changed. “But people are going to think what they think. Such a stupid thing—such a nothing moment, and for that ....”

“And for that ...?”

He’s crying. I can hear him, just the slightest hitch of his breath .

“Just tell me.” I can’t breathe .

His knees pop as he gets to his feet. I stand perfectly still as his arms circle my waist, perhaps for the last time. “I can’t do this ...“

“Should I say it for you ?”

I feel him shake his head. “I don’t have a choice. I’m—if I don’t distance myself from this, it’ll all have been for nothing .”

My tears go dry, unshed. The heaviness in my heart’s being pushed aside by something white-hot and murderous. Irrational, maybe, but there’s no holding it back. All for nothing? Nothing? Our future, our child—nothing? “Go on .”

“I don’t want to do this .”

So don’t. “You have to think of your work. All those lives ....”

“If I saw a choice—any choice—you have to believe me; I’d take it .”

There’s always a choice! Always! “I know .”

“I’m sorry .”

Grow a fucking spine! “Stop saying that.” I draw myself up, stiff and proud. “This was always about your work .”

He shivers, as though the chill in my voice is running down his spine. “I can’t see you for a while. But it’s not forever. Not — “

James is still talking, but I can’t hear him over the rage buzzing in my ears. Can’t see me for a while? What does he think we’re doing, dating? And what’s a while supposed to be? I’m due in November—is he planning on being there for that, or is it...welcome to single motherhood ?

“You’ll still have everything you need, anything—just name it; I’ll — “

I wrench free of his embrace. “And meanwhile, what? You go back to your life, while I...while I walk around with a scarlet letter? Alone?—unemployable? I haven’t seen anyone outside your circle in months—and you think any of them will speak to me now? Who am I supposed to turn to, for...for anything ? ”

James recoils like I’ve slapped him. “I didn’t....” He presses his palm to his forehead. “You can take Percy .”

The dog? The fucking— “Oh, you didn’t just say that .”

“What can I say ?”

Good question. Maybe there isn’t anything. “Nothing. Just—nothing. Do what you want. I’ll ...”

“Diana—“

“What? ”

“The money—you’ll still get — “

My vision explodes in red. “Keep it. And choke on it!” I push past him, through the ballroom, the hallway, the east stairwell. He follows me as far as the living room, but there’s nothing to say, nothing to do, and he stops under the arch. Percy jumps off the couch and follows me into the foyer. I snap on his leash—goddammit, I am taking him. He likes me better, anyway, and now I see why .

The blood thunders in my ears all the way down the driveway. Gutless!—he couldn’t even try to stand up for me? Couldn’t make a statement, plead my case to the board, anything ?

Maybe he did. I didn’t ask .

He could’ve waited. Given it time. A lot can happen in one news cycle. I could’ve given an interview—or a bigger scandal could’ve erupted, relegating me to the bottom of page nine .

Maybe he wanted to .

He didn’t have to bring money into it .

For that, there’s no excuse .

Except... Who doesn’t say stupid things in the heat of the moment ?

Slowly but surely, the guilt creeps in. Percy’s not helping, looking at me with those big, confused eyes. Probably thought we were headed for the park. I scratch him behind the ears, but he’s edgy, nervous, pawing the dashboard .

Maybe I’m angrier at the situation than at James. His work has always been his first love, and more than that—he’s genuinely close to something big. Something that could change the world. How’s he supposed to turn away from that? Our marriage might’ve started to feel a lot like real life, but standing at that altar, he was saying “I do” to his job .

I pull over at the Comfort Maple. I need sun, space, a moment to breathe. Percy perks up, nosing at the window .

“Walk?”

He whines and hangs out his tongue .

“Take that as a yes, huh?” I clip his leash back on and let him out. It’s a nice day. Feels like it ought to be storming, or at least spitting rain, but there’s barely a breeze to stir the branches. A few heavy clouds hang on the horizon, but it’s hardly end-of-the-world weather .

It’s not too late to go back. I could swallow my pride. Hear James out properly. Have a sweet goodbye instead of a bitter one. And there’s the baby to think about—even if this is it for our romance, we’ll still be a family. We need to talk about visitation, if our separation lasts out the year .

I should return Percy, too. James doesn’t handle loneliness well. Taking his dog seems...pettier than I want to be .

By the time Percy starts to droop, I’m calm—or as calm as I can be, staring calamity in the face. A few raindrops finally start to fall as I turn the car around, but my head is clear. We’re going to talk this through like two people who love each other, no matter how it hurts .

And then ....

Well, I’ll think about that later .