Chapter 49 - The Husband I Buried

Then

Six months before he died, Luis stood at our dresser, fastening his cufflinks with more care than usual.

I watched him from the doorway, leaning against the frame, still barefoot. He was wearing his navy suit. It was my favorite. It sat perfectly across his broad shoulders and made his eyes look even smokier. ‘Big meeting?’ I asked.

He smiled. ‘You could say that.’ He lifted a small glass bottle and tipped it toward his wrist.

The scent reached me instantly. Warm. Resinous. Something dark beneath the top notes.

I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him from behind before he could finish, pressing my cheek against his back, breathing him in.

He stilled for half a second, so brief I almost missed it, then relaxed into me.

‘Too much?’ he asked lightly.

I murmured something incoherent.

He smiled at our reflection in the mirror before he turned in my arms and kissed the top of my head. ‘I like that you notice things.’

‘That’s my job,’ I said, half-joking.

He slid his hands to my waist, thumbs brushing the bare skin where my shirt rode up. ‘One of the many reasons I married you.’

I smiled into his chest. It was easy to forget everything else when he touched my skin like that.

‘You’re nervous,’ I said.

He exhaled a laugh. ‘Am I that obvious?’

‘Only because I know you,’ I assured him.

‘It’s just a meeting,’ he said to himself in the mirror.

‘With who?’ I asked.

The question came out casual. Practiced. The way I asked things in court when I already knew the answer might matter.

He wasn’t usually rattled like this.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said.

I tilted my head. ‘That’s vague.’

He kissed me before I could ask any more questions. Slow. Familiar.

‘It’s nothing. Really,’ he said quietly. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

It made me worry more. It felt like he was shutting me out. How was I supposed to be supportive if he couldn’t tell me what I was supporting?

I stepped back, studying him. ‘That’s not how we do things.’

He reached for his jacket. ‘It’s just business, Kenz. You’d probably find it boring anyway.’ I was about to press, but his phone buzzed on the dresser.

He glanced at the screen. Didn’t pick it up. That, more than anything, made my stomach dip. Luis never ignored his phone.

It buzzed again. And again.

I caught a glimpse of what was on the screen before it went dark.

E.

I frowned. ‘Who’s “E”?’

His head snapped up fast.

He recovered just as quickly, smile already back in place, but I’d seen it. The recognition. ‘No one,’ he said.

I crossed my arms. ‘That’s not an answer.’

‘She’s just someone I used to work with.’

If he wanted to play it like that, then game on. ‘Were you friends?’

He ducked the question, grabbing his laptop bag to start packing for the day. Then he stepped closer, lowering his voice. ‘Why are you interrogating me like I’m on the stand?’

The words stung.

‘I’m not,’ I said. ‘I’m asking because you’re my husband and I’m interested in your friends.’

‘Jesus, Mackenzie. I told you we were friends, now can we just drop it?’

The phone buzzed again.

This time, he picked it up.

‘I have to take this,’ he said.

He kissed me quickly – too quickly – and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

I stood there, staring at the dresser. The open cologne bottle. A suit he had chosen not to wear laid out like a uniform.

The apartment felt quieter without him.

When he came back a minute later, his expression had shifted. He was focused. Energized.

‘I’m sorry I snapped, I’m just nervous,’ he said. ‘They moved the meeting up.’ He was already reaching for his jacket. ‘I’ve got to go.’

‘Luis—’

He paused at the door. ‘I’ll be late.’

‘How late?’

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Don’t wait up.’

The door closed behind him. I stayed where I was long after his footsteps faded, the scent of his cologne hanging in the air. It clung to everything.

I’d spent years watching guilty men shift under questioning, counting every tell.

Standing there, watching him, I was learning what Luis’s tells were.