Chapter 9: Since March

I looked at the photo for a long time.

The light in the bedroom was gray and ordinary, and the man beside me was still asleep.

I sat up with the sheet around me and turned the phone toward him.

"Hank."

He woke at once, the way he always did on shift.

His eyes went to my face, and then to the screen, and the warmth drained out of his expression.

"Where did you get that?"

"An unknown number. Probably hers." My voice was very even. "That's you, in the back."

"Yes."

"It says March ninth."

"Bree."

"Tell me what you saw."

He pushed himself up against the headboard and scrubbed a hand over his face.

For a moment, I thought he would try to lie.

Then he dropped the hand.

"I stopped for coffee at the Sunoco on Route 9," he said. "On my way to a shift."

He swallowed.

"Travis and Misty were at the pumps. She was kissing him."

"Kissing."

"His hand was in her back pocket. It wasn't a hello."

"And you saw it."

"He saw me see it," Hank said, and his jaw worked.

"I walked up to him and asked if you knew. He said, 'Don't.' He said it quiet."

"And the picture?"

"She took it right then, because she thought it was funny."

I did not say anything.

My hands had gone cold on the sheet.

"What did you do, Hank?"

"I went to work. I sat next to you in the rig for twelve hours, and I could not say it."

"Why?"

"I told myself it might end by itself."