The Wife He Buried Alive novel · Chapter 3 of 32

Chapter 3: The Tree He Looked At

Juliet arrives to hug her in public and whisper a threat, and Winston learns Linnea saw his funeral from the oak.

"Everyone out," Winston said.

The board members left without a word. The old man with the half-moon glasses looked back at me twice from the door.

When it closed, Winston did not sit.

"A son," he said.

"His name is Milo. He's three, and he turns four in December."

He said the name once under his breath, as if he were checking that it was real.

"Where is he?"

"Children's Hospital, fourth floor." I kept the papers between us on the table. "He relapsed. The registry has nobody, and his doctor says the match has to come from your side."

"Then I'll go now."

"You'll go tomorrow, and you'll be tested like anyone else."

"Linnea."

"I have terms, Winston. You can take them or find out what happens when I walk out of here."

He nodded. I watched him decide to say nothing, and I did not know what that cost him.

"First, nobody hears about Milo. Not your board, not your mother, and not Juliet."

"Done."

It was too fast, and I noticed it. I filed it away to think about later.

"Second, you sign the divorce when he's well."

His jaw tightened.

"Third, you keep your hands to yourself."

He had already taken a step toward me. He stopped with one hand half lifted and let it fall.

"I thought you were dead," he said.

His voice shook. I had never heard it shake in five years of marriage.

"I know what you thought."

"I stood at that grave."

"I know. I was standing at it too."

He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes.

"Does he look like me?" he asked.

"He has your frown," I said. "He gets it when he's about to lie about eating his vegetables."

Something broke open in his face, and for one second he almost smiled.

"What does he carry?"

"A gray stuffed elephant. He won't let anyone wash it."

"Linnea, I need to see him."

"Tomorrow. After the test."

The door banged open.

Juliet came through it in a cream dress with her phone still in her hand, and the assistant hurried in behind her saying she was sorry.

Juliet saw me and stopped.

Her face went white, and then it crumpled. She crossed the carpet with both arms out.

"Oh my God. Linnea. Oh my God, you're alive."

She hugged me hard and rocked from side to side. Her hair smelled like gardenias.

There were three people watching through the glass, and one of them lifted a phone.

"I prayed for you every night," Juliet sobbed into my shoulder. "Every single night."

Her mouth moved next to my ear, and her voice dropped to nothing.

"Whatever you came for, you're four years late."

Her arms were still tight around me. Her ring pressed into my back, a large cold stone.

I took hold of her wrists and pulled them off me.

"Thank you for praying," I said, loud enough for the glass wall to hear. "You must have been busy, between that and holding his sleeve at my funeral."

Juliet's lips parted.

"I watched you do it," I said. "The minister was still holding his book."

The color left her face for the second time.

"Linnea, sweetheart, you're in shock," she said, quickly. "Winston, she's in shock. She doesn't know what she saw."

"I saw you in a black veil," I said. "Right behind my husband."

"That's enough," Winston said.

He said it to Juliet.

Juliet stared at him, and her hand went to the ring.

Winston turned his head very slowly.

"You were there," he said.

"I stood behind the big oak by the east path. I wore a gray raincoat and a hood."

"Linnea, the whole day I..."

He stopped. He looked at the papers, and then at the window, and then at me.

"I looked right at that tree," he said.

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