Page 52 of My Husband’s Wife

Fifty-One

Eva

As I rouse from a weird, feverish sleep, I reach for my bedside table but instead of my glass of water, I press my fingertips into wood, and then I remember: I’m trapped in a box and I can’t get out.

I’m dopey and disorientated like I’ve been drugged but I don’t want to lose consciousness again.

If I do, I might not wake up. This could be my punishment.

I’m trying to wake up but I can’t stop thinking about what I did, how Hugo had covered for me back then and how I couldn’t bear for the truth to come out.

I slip into unconsciousness again and I’m taken to a place I want to forget…

I’m back in that hot June day. I’m in the cupboard under the stairs where the cries of our twins fill my head.

While sitting on the floor rocking back and forth, I’m screaming along with them.

Hugo opens the cupboard door with Caiden in his arms, anger written across his face.

I left my baby boy in our boiling hot car to die and I can’t even remember how I got in the cupboard…

Wake up…My body trembles. I nearly killed my son.

I so deserve this. I’m cold – so cold, and my mouth is so dry my tongue needs prising from the roof of my mouth.

My head pounds like I’ve been whacked, then I remember: my poor head was smashed into a rock.

I reach up and touch the sticky mess on my forehead and flinch as a shot of pain goes through me.

‘Nicole,’ I yell, in the hope that she at least answers me.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was a flash of her T-shirt.

Once again, no one replies. I think of Caiden and all I want to do is be snuggled up with him, watching Despicable Me .

‘Why, Nicole?’ This time I scream and start to hit the sides of the box again.

The wood is hard. My knuckles are sore and full of splinters where I’ve already tried to punch my way out.

Where could Nicole have taken me? She lives with her dad and I can’t imagine her keeping me in his tiny house and no one being able to hear me screaming. Keep thinking.

She could have brought me to Theo’s cottage.

It’s isolated. I remember when I came here, there was a small structure, a bit like a large shed, which was a short walk away from where I left my car that night.

Panic rises up again and I can’t catch my breath.

I’m trapped and I just want to get out. My heart feels as though it’s blocking my trachea.

Nicole doesn’t know Theo or Hugo. I hit the walls again. She wants me out of the way so she can have Zach all to herself. What’s happening here is not a delusion of any kind. I hurt all over and I can’t escape. It’s real. I’m trapped in a box.

‘Nicole, let me out.’

I need to think outside the box. I cry and laugh at the same time.

The box – the bloody box. If only I could think outside of this box and not be trapped in it.

What am I missing? Nicole, Zach, Theo, Hugo, Madison…

Cynthia? Maybe I’m looking at this situation wrong.

What do I think about what Cynthia said?

She and her husband adopted Hugo because they believed they could help him, but as Cynthia put it to me, you can’t change a psychopath; their daughter will never walk again or know who she is, all because of him.

He has to be behind it if she’s to be believed.

He’s a psycho and he’s come for me and he’s got Nicole involved – somehow.

Poor Cynthia. Their fear kept them away from Caiden and me.

They were even mean to us to make us stay away.

The only person I blame for that now is Hugo.

I let out a manic laugh that turns into a whimper.

I married a monster. Like any monster, self-preservation will win.

I can’t breathe as I think of Cynthia’s daughter and poor Cynthia, who can never tell anyone what had happened to her.

On the day of our wedding, Cynthia had wanted to tell me what he was like, but she chose to remain silent to save her family from his threats.

I let out a roar and kick the box again.

What I still can’t work out is what Nicole has to do with any of this.

I definitely saw Nicole just before I was attacked.

I yell again and again until I hyperventilate, because I know that Theo and Nicole are going to bury me in those woods and no one will ever find me.

Then something more terrifying hits me: what if I’m already buried in the woods?