Never Divorce a Wife Who Loves You Deeply novel · Chapter 1 of 32
Chapter 1: The Front Seat
Robin is sent to the back seat so Kristy's necklace can ride up front, and when the SUV rolls and burns, Scott digs out the necklace and leaves her pinned inside.
"I'm not riding in the back again, Scott."
I had my hand on the passenger door of the SUV and I wasn't letting go.
It was ninety-four degrees at a gas station in the Coast Range, and my husband didn't look up from his phone.
"Just get in, Robin."
"The front seat is empty."
"It's not empty."
I looked through the window.
A small velvet box sat on the passenger seat, right in the middle of the cushion.
"It's a box," I said. "You gave my sister's necklace the front seat. I'm your wife."
That made him look up.
"Kristy was my first love. You knew that when you married me."
"I know she was your wife. She's gone. I'm the one who's here. I do the laundry and the cooking, and I'm raising her son."
"Leave Joey out of this."
"He needs a mother who's alive, Scott."
"She's still my mom!"
The shriek came from the back seat.
Joey kicked the tinted window with both sneakers.
He was four years old, and his face was screwed up.
"Joey, honey, please."
"You're not my mom! Aunt Robin is a fake!"
Scott put his phone in his pocket.
He walked around the hood and opened the rear door for me.
"Get in the back, Robin. You're upsetting him."
"I'm upsetting him? I've been putting him to bed since he was one."
"Just do it."
I got in the back.
The leather was hot enough to burn the backs of my legs.
Scott got in and reached over to straighten the velvet box, gently, with two fingers.
Inside was a thin silver chain with a small diamond pendant.
He gave it to Kristy on their wedding day.
She had been dead for almost three years.
We pulled back onto Highway 26.
Joey had his brown bear in his lap.
I held out the apple juice I'd bought him inside, with the straw already in.
He smacked it out of my hand.
"I don't want yours."
Juice ran down the front of my jeans.
"Joey!" Scott snapped.
He was looking at Joey in the mirror, not at me.
"I'm sorry," I said, out of habit, and pulled napkins from my bag.
Scott sighed.
"Can we not fight today? This trip is supposed to help us reconnect."
Reconnect.
He had a framed photo of Kristy on his nightstand.
We drove for almost an hour without a word.
"Kristy loved road trips," Scott said.
I turned toward the window.
"I know."
"She sang the whole way whenever we got near the coast."
"Joey loved hearing her."
Joey sat up straight.
"Mommy had a pretty voice."
"She did," Scott said, and smiled at him in the mirror.
Neither of them looked at me.
I pressed my nails into my palm.
Kristy and I had the same hair, the same eyes, the same laugh.
The air conditioner hummed.
Then a horn blared right beside us.
Scott swore.
A log truck was sliding into our lane, its trailer swinging wide.
Scott yanked the wheel.
Joey screamed.
The SUV skidded sideways across the road, and something hit us hard.
The world turned over.
Glass burst in on every side.
We rolled once and came down on the roof against the concrete barrier, with a crunch I felt in my teeth.
Then nothing.
For one long second, nothing at all.
Then the smoke started.
My ears were ringing.
I tried to move and pain tore up both my legs.
The seat in front of me had folded back and the roof had come down on top of it.
My legs were pinned under all of it.
"Scott."
It barely came out.
Up front, Scott groaned and pushed himself off the deflated airbag.
Joey was sobbing, hanging upside down in his car seat, but he was moving.
Scott's whole face changed.
"Joey! Buddy, are you okay?"
"I'm scared!"
"It's okay. Daddy's here."
Scott unbuckled and crawled toward him.
I smelled gasoline.
"Scott," I said. "Help me."
He turned his head.
He looked right at me.
Then Joey shrieked.
"The necklace!"
Scott froze.
"Mommy's necklace is still in there!"
The velvet box had slid under the passenger seat.
There were flames coming up along the dashboard.
"Scott, please," I said.
Joey was screaming now.
"Mommy's necklace! Daddy, get it!"
Scott turned away from me.
He reached for the box.
"Scott! I'm stuck! I can't get out!"
He didn't answer.
He dug at it with both hands, and I watched glass cut his fingers.
"Save Mommy's necklace! Save Mommy!"
Mommy.
Not me.
Never me.
I couldn't get a breath through the smoke.
"Scott."
Nothing.
My husband was digging through broken glass for a dead woman's necklace while his living wife bled a foot away from him.
Then Joey twisted around in his seat and looked at me.
His face was red and wet, and his fists were shaking.
"That's Mommy's necklace!" he screamed at me. "If it wasn't for you, Mommy wouldn't have died!"
I stared at him.
I had held him through every fever for three years.
Scott tore the box free.
He shoved it in his shirt, got Joey out of the straps, and pulled him against his chest.
He kicked out what was left of the windshield and crawled through.
Neither of them looked back.
My eyes were closing on their own.
Outside the car, I heard Joey's voice, high and shaky.
"Did Mommy's necklace survive?"
And Scott answered him.
"Yes."
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