Chapter 4 - The Long Silence
Day forty,
day fifty,
day sixty.
The wait was a psychological war.
Every time a car door slammed on the street below,
my heart leaped.
I spent my days sitting in the dark living room,
looking out at the Manhattan skyline.
I realized that for years,
I had been a ghost in my own marriage.
Garrett had slowly isolated me,
cutting off my friends,
making me believe I was sicker than I was,
gaslighting me into a state of total dependence.
He hadn't just tried to kill me in January;
he had been killing me for years.
The detectives tracked his spending.
He had already contacted a real estate agent in Paris,
looking for a villa.
He was spending my money as if it were an infinite well.
His mother posted a photo of a "memorial" necklace she had bought.
"In memory of a dear soul gone too soon,"
the caption read.
I laughed when I saw it,
a sharp,
cold sound that filled the empty penthouse.
I was no longer the woman who had begged for water.
The illness was in remission,
managed by the medication I now controlled.
My skin had regained its color,
and the muscles in my legs were lean and hard.
I practiced my reaction.
I practiced the way I would look at him.
I worked with my lawyer to freeze the accounts,
but we timed it perfectly.
We let the cards work until day seventy-two,
then we shut everything down.
I wanted them to arrive at the airport with nothing.
I wanted them to feel the first pinch of panic in the taxi on the way home.
The detectives moved into the guest suite on day seventy-three.
We spent the night in a state of high-alert silence.
The penthouse was staged to look exactly as it had when they left.
I put the broken glass back on the floor,
though I moved the sharpest pieces.
I placed the empty water glass back on the dresser.
I lay in the bed,
wearing the same silk nightgown,
my face pale with makeup to mimic the look of a corpse.
The January sleet had turned into a cold March rain.
The wind rattled the windows,
just like it had seventy-four days ago.
I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of the key in the lock.
I could feel the presence of the detectives in the shadows,
their breathing shallow and quiet.
I was the bait,
and the trap was set.
I thought about the water.
I thought about the light he had switched off.
May you like
I thought about the 74 days of darkness he had gifted me.
And I prepared to give them back.
