Chapter 24 - The Husband I Buried

Now

The puppy woke me Friday morning by crunching on my toes.

‘Ow, your teeth are like needles,’ I muttered, half laughing. ‘Lucky for you, you’re cute.’

If Tess hadn’t been there as a reminder, I might have convinced myself that yesterday had been nothing more than a strange dream. That I hadn’t seen Luis boarding a train in a town neither of us should’ve been in.

But he had been standing just a few feet away from me, almost within reach.

What were the odds of something like that happening? Probably not great.

Carl was right though. There were plenty of guys out there around the same height, with the same hair color. Attractive guys who looked almost the same. But he was the only one who made my stomach somersault.

There was something about him specifically that I couldn’t explain.

There was no way I’d mistake that feeling, and I’d got it when I saw him, even from a distance.

My body had recognized him before my brain could catch up.

I wasn’t going to convince myself to ignore what I’d seen. The niggling feeling in my gut wouldn’t let me. And it was just as well, because it was enough to get me out of bed. I threw the covers off, the sheets tangling around my legs like they were trying to keep me in. Tess barked once, happy I was up.

*

My plans for the day had just changed. I was going to visit Luis’s grave and think.

Downstairs, I retrieved the envelope from the night before, picking it up to make sure it was real in my hands. I inhaled the paper. The scent had faded, but it was still strong enough that I recognized it.

The note hadn’t mentioned a collection date. It could be a week, or it could be a day. I guess they left it off to encourage people to make a decision.

I knew I should just write a big NO on the paper and leave it on my front doorstep for collection so they wouldn’t miss it. Maybe they wouldn’t bother me again once they got their answer. But then I might never know what happened to Luis. And the need to know for sure is hardwired into my DNA.

Thoughts swirled. Possibilities formed.

I had no way of knowing who had left the note, but I had a strong suspicion.

I didn’t want to call Jess because she’d tell me to go to the police for sure. She’d probably come by and drive me there herself.

If it hadn’t been for the man I saw on the train, I’d probably have agreed with her, but this was more than a feeling.

Tess gave a small whine, like she was telling me she was busting.

‘Sorry, I’m coming,’ I called. I took her outside to do her business, the morning air biting at my bare ankles. When we came back in, I made coffee strong enough to strip paint and stared at my calendar.

With everything going on, I had forgotten to book a dog-sitter. I sent a quick message anyway, hoping for a Hail Mary, then looked at the puppy, who had brought one of my Jimmy Choos out to gnaw on.

I didn’t want to leave her alone on her first day here. She needed someone to guide her in her new home.

I gently took the shoe from her, trying to salvage the stiletto. ‘We need to get you something you can chew on,’ I said. ‘Something that won’t give you a stomachache.’

She gazed at me with sorrowful eyes, sad I’d taken her thousand-dollar chew toy. I did a quick search to see if she needed to visit the vet, checking the shoe to see if she had ingested any of the leather. ‘Thank goodness,’ I said. She was so tiny, I could only imagine how sore her tummy would’ve been.

I couldn’t leave Tess here alone. The time I’d allocated to set things up to accommodate a puppy had been interrupted by my encounter with the man on the train. If I left her here, she’d probably realize there was a whole closet full of shoes to chew on. And I couldn’t leave her outside alone. ‘What am I supposed to do with you, huh?’

The puppy tilted her head.

I couldn’t exactly take the day off. Could I?

‘Why don’t we go for a walk and figure it out?’ I asked her.

Happy to be having a chat, she bounded over, following me to a utility drawer. I rummaged around, moving things aside. Eventually I found what I was looking for – the leash Luis had bought when we first talked about getting a dog, before we knew about the dreaded ‘wait list’, which, they had warned, could be months. Sometimes more.

The leather harness still looked new.

‘Come on, Tess,’ I said. ‘I hope you’re not afraid of ghosts. We’re going to visit Luis.’

*

I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find at the cemetery. It wasn’t as if there was going to be a big hole in the ground where he’d dug his way out, but I wanted to go there and consider the possibility that Luis was still alive.

The cemetery was almost empty, the fall wind whispering through the trees. I used to come here just to be near him. But today, I wondered if I’d feel alone at his grave.

As I approached the headstone with his name on it, I didn’t feel the finality of it weighing me down. I felt hopeful, for the first time since his death.

Tess sniffed the ground, zigzagging toward every stick, every random scent she picked up. It took forever to reach the plot.

The grave looked the same as always: the plaque gleaming a dull silver in the weak sunlight, his name carved deep. Luis Xavier Tyndale. Beloved husband. Except now it didn’t feel like a resting place. It felt like a lie carved into stone.

I crouched, brushing a fallen leaf from the plaque. The flowers I’d left last time – daisies – were brown and collapsing in their vase. Guilt twisted in my chest. I hadn’t been back in two weeks. It hurt too much, walking away every time, leaving him here while I pretended to go on with my life.

Only now, my guilt felt like it was for nothing. Like I had been mourning an idea.

I closed my eyes, remembering the day they laid him here.

A sharp tug on the leash jolted me. ‘Tess – wait!’

But the puppy had spotted a bird and bolted. The leash slipped from my hand, the leather burning my palm. I chased her past a row of headstones, rounding a huge oak tree before finally catching up.

I scooped her up, panting, and headed back toward Luis’s grave. ‘You can’t take off like that, you’ll get lost,’ I reprimanded her affectionately.

She squirmed once, then went still. Her ears pricked up. I looked up and froze.

Someone was standing at Luis’s grave. Someone I didn’t recognize, her back toward me. I stopped and watched her as she brushed dirt from the headstone. The gesture looked tender, like she might’ve brushed lint off his shirt the same way. The woman hunched forward, her shoulders shaking as she placed something down. Flowers, I realized. Fresh daisies.

‘What the hell . . .’ I whispered. My fingers were already on my phone, snapping a photo to make sure my eyes weren’t playing a trick, before my brain could talk me out of what I was seeing. I started toward her, heart hammering. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and she wore a flowing floral dress that was too cheerful for a cemetery. A silk shawl was draped over her shoulders. She looked like she’d dressed up to visit someone she loved. Someone she missed.

My throat tightened.

‘Hey,’ I called softly.

The woman rose slowly to her feet but she didn’t turn all the way around. I could see in profile that she wore dark sunglasses.

‘Wait – please,’ I said, taking another step forward, moving toward her.

She pulled the shawl up, high against her neck.

Her head shifted and I realized she was eyeing the exit.

‘I just want to talk,’ I said, hoping I sounded friendly.

The woman froze, still turned away from me, like she hadn’t expected anyone to be here.

‘What’s your name?’ I called. ‘Why are you here?’

I sped up, trying to get closer so I could see her properly, but she scurried away without answering, half running down the path, kicking the flowers over as she left.

Every cell in my body screamed at me to chase her, demand answers, force her to look me in the eye and explain what she was doing at my husband’s grave – but she was already moving out of sight, and I’d never catch up to her with Tess to coax along.

Her presence had given me an eerie, familiar feeling. Was she a distant relative of Luis’s? A cousin maybe?

Whoever she was, she knew him well enough that she was crying.

But why had she run away when I called her?

And if Luis’s death was a lie, what else had he lied about?