Page 20 of The Atonement (Arrangement #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

PETER

I drove through the town that night without direction. Turning down side streets and taking curves too fast. I needed to move, to act, to do something, but there was nothing to do. Ainsley had slipped through my fingers. She was gone, maybe for good, and she’d ruined me with her departure.

She’d taken away from me the one thing I’d ever been good at.

My knuckles throbbed from where I’d pounded them against the steering wheel while sitting outside of the bar.

What was I becoming? What had I let her turn me into? Why did I even care?

Think…

Think…

Think…

I needed to get inside of her head. It wouldn’t be easy.

She’d spent our entire marriage inside of mine, so even if I tried to think like her, she’d probably predict it and still manage to stay a step ahead of me.

But there had to be a way. I knew her. I knew what she ate and what perfume she wore; I knew what made her feel better when she was sick and how she looked when she was sleeping.

I knew her.

Maybe better than anyone else, but still. My wife was an impenetrable wall, without gates or scaffolding for anyone. Whatever I knew about her, it was merely what she’d let me know.

Let me believe.

A sudden thought hit me, and I pulled the SUV over to the shoulder in an instant.

I was wrong.

I did know something.

Something important.

Lifting my phone from where it rested in the center console, I opened my call log and clicked on her name, then waited. I was breaking my promise to myself, but I didn’t care. This was more important.

“Hello?”

I was silent, thinking I’d somehow imagined it. I never expected her to actually answer. I’d been preparing to leave her a voicemail, one I knew she’d have to respond to, but this… I didn’t know how to—

“Hello?” She sounded impatient.

“Ainsley?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I didn’t think you’d answer. ”

“At least one of us can answer the phone. We should meet.”

Now I was convinced I was dreaming. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“When?”

“Now. I’ll come to you. Where are you?”

“That doesn’t work for me.”

There was the woman I knew. “Well, gosh, when can you pencil me in?”

“Tomorrow. Ten a.m.”

“Where?”

“The house.”

“Fine.” I fought against the urge to mention that I knew she’d stolen our money. I needed her to show up, after all. I had to be civilized. “You good?”

She was quiet for a moment, so quiet I thought she was going to hang up, but then she said, “Did you just ask if I’m good? ”

“Yeah, I just… I miss you. I miss the kids. Are you all okay?”

“Don’t make this something it isn’t, Peter. I’m meeting you because there are things we need to discuss, that’s it.”

“How am I making this anything? I’m just checking on you.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Fine. I won’t.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, casting a line of hope. “Bring the kids. Please. ”

“I won’t be doing that.”

I hadn’t expected any different, but I had to ask. “Fine. Just…tell them I miss them, okay?”

“Goodbye, Peter.”

“Hey, Ains, wait! ”

She paused for a beat. “Yeah?”

“Um, thanks for…for answering.”

“You’re welcome.” With that, the line beeped, alerting me that the call had ended and she was gone. My heart raced as if I’d run a marathon; a thin sheen of sweat soaked my skin.

It was happening.

I was finally going to see her.

I was finally going to take care of everything, once and for all.

The next morning, I was standing outside the house, pacing and listening intently for any sign of her. When I finally heard her car pulling down the driveway five minutes after ten, I got into position, hiding in the shadows just inside the frame of the garage’s side door.

My breathing was shallow as the car door slammed shut. Her shoes crunched against the gravel drive. Would she have worn heels that could pierce my skin with a swift kick? Or sensible shoes for running away?

I imagined she’d brought a weapon of some sort. A knife, most likely. Definitely not a gun. Maybe the old bat she’d been hiding—I wasn’t entirely convinced she’d disposed of it like she promised.

Crunch.

Breathe.

Crunch.

Breathe.

Crunch.

Breathe.

The crunching steps were silenced when she stepped onto the concrete walkway that led to the porch. She was going to walk right past me. I held my breath, focusing intently on the silence.

Where are you, Ains?

She stepped into my view, stopping just a few feet from the porch, and scanned the yard, searching for me. She had no idea how close I was. Hidden in the shadows. Lurking. Looming.

I waited as she took another step.

Then another.

Then another.

She was past me, heading for the porch.

Now.

“ Hey— ” I stepped forward. She spun around, obviously expecting me.

Her arm shot out, wielding a weapon I couldn’t see.

My body jolted as white-hot lightning shot through my core.

My vision blurred, black splotches painting through a sea of white.

I doubled over, the pain so intense I was sure I was going to vomit.

The sound came again—like packaging tape being ripped from the roll…

only more electric, more intense. I couldn’t open my jaw. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

“Step back,” Ainsley said, shoving the weapon into my stomach harder. The sound stopped in an instant, the bright light in her hand dimming.

I fumbled backward into the garage, reaching for the wall to steady myself. She followed close behind. “What the…” I panted, touching the place where I’d been convinced only moments ago that she’d stabbed me. “You… tased me?”

She eyed the pink contraption in her hand with an unimpressed expression. “It’s a stun gun. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Is there a difference?” I put my hands up to stop her from moving near me, trying to catch my breath. We were repelling magnets. For every step she took toward me, I took a step away.

“Is that really what you want to talk about right now? The difference between stun guns and Tasers?”

I winced as I took another step backward, bumping into my SUV.

The garage was cluttered, without much room to maneuver, even without her car in its usual parking space.

I eyed the button on the wall that would lift the overhead doors, giving us fresh air and me a way to escape, but if I moved, she’d come after me again.

It wasn’t an option. “You didn’t have to do that.

I wasn’t going to hurt you.” I held my hands out in the air. “I’m unarmed.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. ”

“Hey, you’re the one who tried to kill me, if memory serves.”

She smirked— she actually smirked— as the memory danced across her face, a whimsical look in her eyes. In a flash, it was gone. Wiped away so fast I could almost be convinced I hadn’t seen it at all. She stared at me, her eyes cold and lifeless.

Who was she?

Most days, I didn’t know.

Then again, how well do we ever know the people in our lives?

How well can you know your spouse? Was there anyone out there who could say they’d never been surprised or disappointed by the person they loved most?

Surely, we weren’t the outliers. It was human nature.

I had to believe everyone had parts of themselves they refused to display to anyone—the whispered motivations, internal desires, embarrassing decisions, and mortifying reasons behind actions we’d never dare reveal to anyone.

Still, I knew my wife as much as anyone could. And I was learning more about her every day.

I put a hand up, offering an apology before she asked for one. “I’m sorry. I’m, look, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk. I was hoping you’d bring the kids.”

“I told you I wouldn’t, so I’m not sure why you’d hope that. The kids don’t need to be here.” She kept the stun gun held out between us—a constant warning.

“Fair enough. Well, I’m glad you came anyway.”

She nodded. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.” Her arms folded up, crossing over her chest, the weapon still clutched in her palm .

“I never wanted to hurt you, Ainsley. I only wanted to find you and apologize.”

Her head drew back quickly. “Apologize?”

My muscles went weak, and I stepped toward her, though it was her turn to move back. “You were right about everything.”

“I know that.”

“I know, but I want you to hear me say it.” I spoke the next words slowly, enunciating each syllable as if to prove the point.

I needed her to hear me—really hear me—and understand.

“ You were right about everything. I was stupid. I had everything in the world I could ever want handed to me on a silver platter, and it still wasn’t enough.

I was everything I hate in a person. In a husband.

You’re…you’re it for me. I love you, Ainsley.

I love you so damn much I can’t think about anything else.

And I know I screwed things up—I really, really do—but trust me when I say I’ve learned my lesson, I—”

“Learned your lesson?” She looked away from me, rolling her eyes. “Peter, you haven’t begun to learn your lesson.”

“Haven’t begu— You tried to kill me, for Christ’s sake.

You sedated me. Left me to die in a fire which I barely escaped to put out, by the way.

You left me to die , Ainsley. And tried to turn me in.

You were going to make me look like a monster…

After all we’ve been through. I know what I did was wrong.

I know I hurt you. Everything with Joanna was… messy—”

“ Messy? That’s a nice way to describe it.

I was giving you everything, Peter, doing everything I thought you wanted and you couldn’t give me the time of day.

Here I was, changing everything about myself for you and you had your precious little toy locked up in that room behind my back the whole time! You were so obsessed with her, so…so…”