His Missing Wife by Jaime Hendricks (nice books to read .TXT) 📕

floor, and she plunks herself into the soft bed right next to the desk. I turn on the computer and do research for modernizing Romano’s. I’m deep into ideas when I look down at my wedding ring, and I see that it needs a cleaning. In the upstairs bathroom, I have a jewelry cleaner, so I place it in the container and shake it up until it foams, then scrub it with the provided brush. It glows, and it looks perfect. I want it flawless and shiny for when I tell James, so I place it in my jewelry box. I’ll put it on right before he gets home and break the news.

I have to practice my speech to James about the pregnancy.

I head back to the kitchen and get the bag with the recording device. After reading the instructions, I connect it to the WiFi and set up the account online. I put the receipt in James’s monthly folder, where he stores all his expenses. He’ll want this for the end of the year, I’m sure, to write it off as part of my business needs. Which it will be good for, too. I can take ideas in real time as I’m walking through a space. Certainly beats a notepad and pen, or being impersonal by typing notes into a phone the whole time.

I locate the record button, which turns it on and off, and yes, holding it in my hand I see what Ralph at the store meant, how the notes can be erased with the button right next to it. A design flaw indeed.

I push the button and speak.

“James, we made a baby!”

No. I stop the recording but don’t erase it. I want to hear how they all sound out loud at once, but even I heard how silly that sounded as the words escaped my mouth. I press the button again.

I try every variation of James, I’m pregnant, even once using the term “with child.” I roll my eyes at how it all sounds, and I thank God that I came up with this idea first. This is supposed to be a good thing and I’m already dumbing it down. My eyes drift to my flat stomach—there’s a baby in there!—and I speak again.

“James, I think I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been.” I pause, choking up, because I want to tell him everything, and it spills out. “I’m so sorry that I lied to you. My Social Security number is fake, and my last name is a variation to say the least. I’ve been running from my ex-husband, my past, my foster homes, my abuse, my addictions—but I don’t want to run anymore. I want to come clean about my lies.” Whatever, I can erase it later. “I want to, because I want my life with you to go forward without complications. It has to be this way, because it’s not just me and you anymore.” Dramatic pause, of course. “James, I’m pregnant. I can’t wait for this new step in our lives, and I can’t wait to hold our baby. And I want you to know that you’ve made me the happiest person who’s ever walked the earth. You need to know that. I love you, and I’m already counting the seconds toward the amazing future we’re going to have together. We’re a family.”

I play it back, and it sounds heartfelt, not rehearsed. But I continue speaking into it over and over. In some versions, I mention Maribel’s help with Drew. In others, I say I want Evan to fix this for me legally. Others still, I say how happy I am that Trey gave him the promotion because the timing was perfect. I even say I’m thankful for Damon, because it led me to him. I go over it a few more times, listening to them all until the doorbell rings, and Candy stirs, lifting her head curiously, but not barking. I look at my watch, only six-thirty, and assume it’s Gwen stopping over with Caleb, for one of our talk sessions. I place the device on the counter and head to the foyer. When I open the door, I’m floored at the coincidence of the person on the stoop.

I was just talking about you.

34

James

James was happy to leave the house. Robert secured permission from the courts for James to leave, so long as he went directly to Robert’s office. Strange, leaving the house, since James had been quarantined via ankle bracelet for the last few days, but he got in his car and drove a few towns away. It felt good leaving, since the house had been the target for the prying eyes of Valley Lake. He didn’t even go to his curb to collect the mail, for fear of having neighbors look at him like someone who committed a double homicide. As far as everyone in town knew, he was a dead man walking, his time of freedom winding down. On his ride, he didn’t stop for coffee on the route in the off chance that someone recognized him from his picture online, his mug shot, and then the pitchforks would come out.

Plus, with what he was paying Robert, they should offer him coffee on arrival at the very least. Thank god for credit cards. If the truth wasn’t cleared up soon, James feared he would have to take out a second mortgage. Which he wouldn’t get. Being an industry professional, he knew he didn’t have equity in the house to pull money out. Even worse, he had no strings to pull. Was his own bank going to help him? Trey? No way. Trey fired him. Well, Trey was going to have to answer if James’s freedom was on the line.

Robert did say earlier that he thought the charges could be dropped for Rosita’s murder. They had nothing except that she was shot with the same caliber gun