Chapter 4
His car was exactly what I expected. Black, clean, parked in the corner spot of the garage where the camera had a clear view of it. He hit the unlock and the lights flashed. He opened the passenger door for me and waited.
I didn't get in.
"I'll ride with you," I said. My voice was still rough. "But I'm setting this now. We drive to your place. Twenty minutes. My phone stays on. And you listen if I say stop."
He kept his hand on the door. His jaw tightened. For a second I thought he would argue.
"Phone on," he said. "Twenty minutes. My place." He nodded once. "Get in, Anna."
I slid into the seat. The leather was cold through my robe. I'd pulled his wool coat from the closet over it in the elevator, and it smelled like him. He closed the door, too gently, and the sound echoed in the concrete garage. He came around, got behind the wheel, and the test was still in his hand. He set it on the console between us, face up. Two pink lines. He didn't look at it. He looked at me.
He backed out and we pulled toward the garage exit. The gate arm was down. A red light blinked.
He pressed the button on his visor. Nothing happened. He pressed it again.
"When did you take it?" he asked. His eyes stayed forward on the gate.
"Which one?" I said.
He glanced at me. "How many were there?"
"Three," I said. "One last Tuesday. Two yesterday morning."
His hands tightened on the wheel. "Tuesday. Where was I Tuesday?"
"You were in Chicago," I said. "You didn't answer until midnight."
He didn't respond to that. He hit the visor button a third time, harder than he needed to. The gate finally lifted with a slow creak. Daylight cut across the windshield.
We turned onto the street. Traffic was light. It was that dead hour after lunch when downtown emptied out. He drove with one hand, the other resting near the test but not touching it.
"Last Tuesday you knew," he said. It wasn't a question. "And yesterday you took two more. Why two more?"
"Because I didn't believe the first one," I said. "I thought I did it wrong."
"You didn't tell me yesterday."
"I was going to tell you last night. You came home late. You went straight to your office."
"I was on calls with New York until two," he said. His voice was flat. "You could have knocked."
"You could have looked at me," I said.
The light ahead turned red. He stopped. A gas station sat on the corner, a guy in a reflective vest washing the windows of a pickup. Normal. So normal it hurt to look at.
His phone rang through the car speakers. The name on the dash said DANIEL - OFFICE. He stared at it, then hit decline without answering. The car went quiet again except for the tick of the blinker.
He answered the silence instead of the call. His tone changed completely, smooth and even, like he'd flipped a switch.
"Tell me the timeline again," he said, quieter. "Slow. When did you feel different? When did you buy them?"
"Two weeks ago I felt off," I said. "I bought them at the CVS on 8th. On Thursday. After my appointment."
"What appointment?"
"My regular checkup. She said to just test if I was late."
He nodded. His public voice was still on, controlled, reasonable. But his knee was bouncing under the wheel.
"And you were late," he said.
"Four days," I said. "Then Tuesday it was positive. I left it on the bathroom counter for an hour thinking it would change."
He let out a breath he hadn't seemed to be holding. "It didn't change."
"No."
We started moving again. He took the turn that led toward the river, not toward my street. Toward the building with the doorman I'd only been to twice, where his family kept the penthouse for when they were in town. I knew that route.
"You're taking me to the River House," I said.
"Yes," he said. He finally looked at me directly. "We need to be somewhere private. Somewhere no one will interrupt us."
He reached over and, for the first time since the apartment, his hand found mine. His fingers were cold. He held on like he was afraid I'd open the door at the next light.
May you like
"Anna," he said, softer now, the smooth office voice gone. "You told me it's mine. I want to believe you. Help me believe you."
I didn't pull my hand away. I left it there and looked at the road ahead, at the high glass building getting closer, and at the test still bright between us on the console.
