Chapter 16: Slower Than You Think

Anja's POV

Roan texted at one in the morning: "Come to my place. I did something. Don't be angry until you see it."

I was angry in the truck, and I was angry on the stairs above the marine supply shop.

Then he opened his door, and I saw the shoebox on his kitchen counter.

I stopped on the threshold.

The rubber band was off.

Eleven spiral notebooks stood in a row beside the sink, each one leaning on the next.

"Unit 114," he said. "By the airport. The engineer rented it in his own name, so it was legal."

I crossed the room and put my hand on the nearest one.

The cover was soft and warm from the lamp.

I opened it to a page at random, and it was my handwriting, from the winter my mother died.

I put it down.

I could not breathe for a second, and he did not touch me.

"Ten breaths?" he asked.

"Not yet."

I picked up the green one with the coffee ring.

A pencil lay in it, marking a page.

"You read this one."

"One entry," he said. "The one the pencil was on. I'm not sorry and I'm not proud."

"You went to the unit without telling me."

"Yes."

"Term one."

"I know."

"You tell me everything you know before I ask."

"I had a reason," Roan said. "I'll give it to you. I also wanted to see your face, and that was the weaker reason."

I laughed, which was not what I intended.

"That's honest."

"I'm trying."

"You are very good at telling me the truth after you hide it."

He took that in.

His jaw moved.

"You told me it was fine," he said. "Every night for two years. You sat on that step and told me your marriage was fine."

"Roan."

"I believed you enough to stay quiet. I watched you go home to that man at seven every morning, and I told myself I was being decent."

"I know."

"I kept it to myself because you asked me to without asking. Do you understand what that was?"

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