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He Counted My Lies Until I Died, Then Begged Me to Wake novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: What He Took Back

Winslow takes back her card, her anniversary trip, her car and her name on his phone while she watches. His last line is "This time, I'm not just scaring her."

My chair at the breakfast table was empty.

Winslow had not slept.

At seven he went back into the study and opened the safe.

He took out the Lie Book and laid it on the desk.

He turned to the last page, where the ninety-ninth entry sat with its pencil tick.

He held the pencil over the next line for a full minute.

He wrote nothing.

He locked the book away again and said, "Not yet."

At seven-thirty he put on his suit and started down the stairs.

Halfway down, he turned around and went back to our bedroom.

He stood by the bed and looked at the dent in my pillow.

Then he smoothed the blanket flat.

He seemed to think a made bed meant I had only gone out for a walk.

Breakfast was set for two.

The crab dumpling soup I liked best sat steaming at my place.

The housekeeper asked, "Should I keep Mrs. Holloway's portion warm?"

"Yes," Winslow said.

Sybil's face went hard.

"She walks out on this family and you keep her soup warm?"

Winslow lifted his coffee.

"Food is food. Wrong is wrong."

That was his favorite rule.

Punish me with one hand and feed me with the other.

As if the soup canceled the punishment.

Wesley came down the stairs yawning, in yesterday's shirt, and looked at my chair.

"She's really holding out this time," he said.

"Eat," Winslow said.

Wesley sat, then dug in his wallet and held up a thin black card.

"Do you still want to give this to her?"

I knew it at once.

It was the extra card Winslow had given me, the one that had been declined at the pharmacy six months ago.

Wesley had sworn he never touched it.

Now Wesley turned the card in his fingers.

"Rhona's gone to cry at a friend's house," he said. "What if she spends a million dollars out of spite?"

He said it too fast, and he laughed after.

"She won't," Winslow said.

My heart gave a small jump, which was foolish for a ghost.

Then Winslow held out his hand.

"Give it here. I'll give it back when she comes home."

The card dropped into his palm.

His phone buzzed on the table with a message from my best friend, Dorinda.

It said: Rhona isn't picking up. Is she with you? Tell her to call me.

Winslow read it, set the phone face down, and did not answer.

His assistant called before the plates were cleared.

"Mr. Holloway, the anniversary suite for this weekend is confirmed. Do you want to keep it?"

That was our fifth-anniversary trip.

Winslow had told me he was too busy to go.

Then that same night he checked the weather and told me to pack a coat.

He looked at the front door.

"Cancel it."

"Cancel it entirely?"

"Yes. When she comes home and admits she was wrong, I'll book it again."

By noon the car I drove was gone.

The driver took it back to the company lot.

Each time Winslow took something away, he left a small kindness behind.

My food stayed warm.

The master bedroom stayed untouched.

My clothes stayed in the closet.

That afternoon the housekeeper carried in the medicine box from the bathroom.

"Sir, should I put Mrs. Holloway's pills in storage?"

A white bottle sat on top, and Winslow's hand stopped.

It was the bottle I had said tasted wrong.

He had never taken me for a new prescription.

"Put it back where it was," he said now.

"She isn't even here," Sybil said. "Why keep all of it?"

"If she comes back and can't find it, she'll start another fight."

He was so sure I would return.

His eyes stayed on the white bottle a second too long.

I decided he was only tired.

That evening, before he left for the office, he opened his phone and changed my name in his contacts.

He changed it from Wife to Rhona.

His thumb hovered over Save for a long time.

Then he pressed it.

"Let her see that herself," he said.

"This time, I'm not just scaring her."

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