“Don’t you see? Instead of having confidence in our marriage, I was jealous. You were the woman I manipulated into marrying me, and Simon was the man you loved”—he paused—“To say I behaved badly would be a gross understatement”—Tony inhaled and exhaled, and continued—“to Simon and to you.”
“I do love you.”
“Now”—he kissed her—“it’s all right. Remember, we promised honesty?” His rage, which moments earlier filled their bedroom, faded into the stormy skies. “That look, the one I saw for only a short time, I see it now—every day—every time your beautiful, green eyes look my way. I think perhaps it’s a look that one must earn. When we saw Simon in Chicago, I hadn’t earned it—I’d demanded it.” He closed his eyes. “It isn’t the same thing.”
She reached up and caressed his cheek. Her touch opened his eyes, revealing the storm of brown behind his lids.
“Claire, I don’t want to lose that look. I promise, I’ll never demand it again...I don’t want that. I want what I have today. I’m concerned that, when all my confessions are out—it’ll be gone. ”
“I’ve told you, my love won’t change, but you started this story, so are you going to finish it?” Her stomach twisted with each word. Her accelerated heartbeat throbbed behind her temples.
“I apologize for how I reacted in Chicago.”
“Tony, you opened this door; I need the rest of the story. Do you know how Simon died?”
She felt his body tense as he said, “I do.” His words came quickly as if speed could take away their sting. “His plane was tampered with, but I don’t know who did it or how they did it. It’s a very complicated network of connections to allow the person paying the fee to stay anonymous.”
The air left her lungs. “Oh, God...” She pushed against his shoulders. “Please get up, I can’t breathe.”
“Open your eyes.”
Claire shook her head.
“Claire”—his tone now softer—“Please open your eyes.” Slowly, emerald green met sad brown, as Tony offered, “I can call Roach. I can be gone before noon.”
She shook her head against the pillow. “Stop that! Stop threatening to leave every time I’m upset. I deserve to be upset!”
Tony lay back onto his pillow. “I’m not threatening—I’m offering.”
For a while, they lay in silence, both staring up at the ceiling. Only the sound of their breathing and the rumble of thunder getting louder and louder filled her ears. Finally, Claire said, “I wanted so badly for that not to be true. I wanted you to be totally innocent. I tried to blame Catherine for everything, but”—Claire reached for his hand, their fingers intertwined—“I think I’ve known it for a long time.”
“When the FBI questioned me, they insinuated other crimes. I believe they know about this. I’m not sure if they can truly trace it back to me, but I think they at least suspect. Claire, I’m going to confess.”
Her eyes sprang wide. Her sadness for Simon dwarfed in comparison to her sudden panic for Tony. “No, you can’t! They’ll arrest you—I need you.”
“Maybe I can make a deal. I’ll tell them about everything with Catherine.”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. When she wrapped her arms around the man she loved, the moisture spilled onto his chest. It had taken them a long time to reach this destination—not the island—the place of complete honesty. Claire didn’t want to lose it.
His voice resonated through their room, dominating the impending storm and echoing thunder. “You deserve to be with a man who’s faced his past. I can’t live with the threat that any day the FBI could come and arrest me in front of you or our child.”
“Tony, don’t do anything rash. Let’s work us out first, please.”
Tony smirked. “Now, I bet you wish we’d have talked about this before we were married. Then you could still say no.”
Claire shook her head from side to side. “No, you’re wrong. That’s a bet you’d lose. You’re laying your cards on the table, and I still think I’m the one coming out a winner. When I said I’d love you—no matter what you told me—I wasn’t bluffing.”
The morning sky lit with intense lightening. As the thunder roared, the skies opened and large raindrops fell, splattering the inside of their room. Tony and Claire jumped from their bed, their bare feet rushing from open door to open door throughout the house. By the time everything was secured against the storm, they were both drenched. Claire made her way to the bathroom, her nightgown plastered against her skin and droplets falling from her soaked hair. When she was about to take off the wet gown, Claire turned toward the doorway. He hadn’t made a sound. If he had, then it had been covered by the raging storm; nevertheless, she felt his stare and knew he was there.
“I am sorry.” Tony’s expression matched his apologetic words. Stepping into the bathroom, he straightened his stance. Claire expected more words of regret; instead, she heard. “I wasn’t—not even when we were at the funeral. I felt bad for you—I didn’t expect you to take it that hard, and though I tried to be supportive, I’ll admit—your grief upset me.”
She stared and tried desperately to register each of his words. “My grief?” She asked in disbelief. “What about his mother’s?”
“What about her?”
“You shook her hand—you talked to her—she told you that Simon admired you!” Each phrase was a little louder.
“I didn’t think about it. To me, the deed was justified. I made a business deal. Deals happen all the time.”
She stood silently and contemplated her husband. “Then why do you feel sorry now?”
He moved closer. “I don’t know if I can explain this, especially to you.”
Claire glanced to the mirror. In the opulent bathroom, in the middle of paradise, they both looked like drowned rats. Near their feet the puddle grew. “Try,” she said.
“I didn’t feel anything before—not just about Simon—about everything. It was why business was second nature to me. It’d always been about numbers and formulas.” He wrapped his arms around her lower back. “I’m not making excuses. You want the truth—that’s it. From the time my parents died until you were with me in Iowa—I didn’t feel. Sometimes I wonder why anyone wants to. Not feeling was a hell of a lot easier.”
Claire stepped forward, leaning her chest and midsection against him. “It can also feel good to feel.”
Tony wrapped his arms around her. “You’re cold. You need to get out of this wet nightgown.”
“I probably do, but I want to know more.” She buried her face in his chest. “There was a time I did what you’re saying, a time when I didn’t feel—I just remember it being very dark.”
He tilted her chin upward. “I probably don’t need to ask what or who caused that time.”
“It’s over. I can tell you who brought me out of it.”
His eyebrow cocked in question.
Her lips touched his and she asked, “So, does that make us even?”
Tony’s shoulder’s shrugged. “I doubt it. That dark time was a lot longer for me; you had more work to accomplish—to rescue me.” His lips grazed the top of her forehead and his eyes shimmered. “Your influence went beyond my personal life.”
“Oh?”
“You probably don’t remember, but one time you asked me about something, and I told you about a company. It was one I was considering buying. You asked me how I could buy a business and close it without thinking about the people.”
Claire nodded. She had recollections of such a conversation.
“Until that moment, I’d never considered—the people.”
“What happened to that company? It was in Pennsylvania, right?”
Tony grinned. “That’s right—good memory. The company’s CEO and shareholders accepted my low-ball offer. Their major competitor, a company where I’m a major stockholder, took over their company. All forty-six employees were given the option to retain their jobs if they stayed and worked for the new company.”