I think the distance made things better between us, sometimes. There was never any time for the usual stupid fighting couples eventually do. We only had a limited amount of time together, and so we had to make the most of it. In theory, it should’ve been a mess, but somehow it just worked.
Another six months went by with that arrangement, and then, on the day Mark graduated, he asked me to marry him. The proposal happened in the middle of the lawn of his law school, surrounded by hooping and hollering classmates as they threw their caps in the air, celebrating their achievement. Despite the noise, it felt intimate, like we were the only people in the world. That’s how it always felt with Mark, like the two of us were completely alone in the world. Nothing, no one, mattered but us. Looking back, I guess that’s how he wanted it.
Despite feeling, in the moment, that we were the only people there, we were literally surrounded by screaming people. I was so sure I’d heard him wrong the first time that I had to ask him to repeat himself. He did, without hesitation. And I’d heard right.
I thought maybe he was just asking in the heat of the moment, but he pulled a ring from his pocket and proved me wrong again. As he kneeled to the ground, my eyes filled with tears and I began to cry. I couldn’t even answer through the tears, but he seemed to understand.
“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled me into his arms and kissed my lips.
“I love you, too,” I choked out. No words had ever been more true.
Things were perfect. I’d never been happier than I was from the time we met until we got married. In the beginning, there was only light.
After the wedding, everything changed.
Chapter Five
Her
PRESENT DAY
The lawyer interrupts my words by clearing his throat. I blink from my trance, ghosts of memories in my eyes: the way it felt the first time Mark kissed me, the night we made love for the first time, the way he smelled when he’d come back from a run, the way he’d hold me close when we’d watch a movie together. Many, many moments—big and little, but good nonetheless. There is so much good in our love story. So much. I want him to see that, but I know he won’t. No one will see it now, once they hear our story, but it was there. Despite it all, it is still there. He lays his pen down for a moment and smiles at me sadly.
“You know you don’t have to tell me everything, Hannah. Not if it doesn’t affect the case.”
I nod. I do know. I could tell him what he wants to hear—about that night—and be done with it, but it isn’t that simple. Nothing’s ever really that simple, is it? Yes, I remember it all. Yes, it’s all my fault. Yes. Yes. Yes.
But it’s not a simple yes or no. Not this time. There’s always a why. Within my why is the story of our love and where it all went wrong. And it’s a story worth telling, so if he wants to hear the truth, he’ll have to sit through the whole thing.
“I know,” I say finally, clasping my hands on the table in front of me. “But I think you have to hear it all. You won’t understand if not.”
He nods, picking his pen back up and allowing me to continue. “So, you met your husband two years ago?”
“Mhm,” I say. “Three in May.”
“And you two were married just a year later?”
“A year and three months.”
“And you say the marriage went sour pretty quickly?”
Sour. As if we were a bad batch of grapes. As if the two of us, our lives intertwined, could be reduced to a poor produce choice that you would throw out with the garbage. I nod stiffly, not bothering to argue. Does it matter anymore? “Yes.”
“Okay, go on. Tell me more about how things changed so quickly.”
Chapter Six
Him
PRESENT DAY
The lawyer turns over the paper in his notebook, ready for the next page. He stares at me, his mouth pressed into such a thin line it almost disappears.
“Tell me about Hannah,” he says.
I grit my teeth, my blood boiling with anger. “What about her?”
“Tell me how you met.”
“You know how we met,” I say. He thinks he can play me, that I’m a fool, but he’s wrong. He’ll know that soon enough.
“I’d like for you to tell me anyway,” he presses on, and I can feel the vein in my temple pulsing.
My heart thuds in my chest, an angry warning that he is asking too many questions. What does he know? What has she told him about me? What filthy lies has she spewed from that putrid mouth? “You shouldn’t trust her,” I say finally. If I say much more, I’ll explode.
The lawyer looks at me with a strange expression, one hairy eyebrow higher than the other. “What makes you say that?”
“She’s a liar. That’s all she is. She’ll manipulate you into doing whatever she wants—believing whatever she wants you to believe. And she’ll destroy your life in the process. You think you know her, but you don’t. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”
“Damon—”
“Mark,” I correct furiously. “I don’t go by my first name.”
He clears his throat. “Right. Mark. Sorry. Can you tell me something specific about why you believe Hannah is a liar?”
I listen to his tone and the way he stares at me, and I already know the truth. I see the way he fiddles with his watch while I talk, as if he’d rather be anywhere else. He doesn’t believe me. Not a word I’m saying. I can see it all over his face. That’s when I realize she’s already gotten to him. He interviewed her first, listened to all of her lies, and now, I stand no chance. Women are so pure and innocent, aren’t they? It’s always the men who lie, right? Wrong. Hannah’s the best liar there is. I never stood a chance as long as she was involved.
“Mark—”
I pound my fists on the table angrily to shut him up. “What does it matter?” I scream. “What’s the point? You don’t believe me. I can see it all over your face. You don’t give a fuck what I say about any of it. You’ve already got your story, don’t you? The innocent little housewife already spun you her web of lies, and you took to it like a fly.” Too late for him. Too late for me. I can feel the anger rising to the surface. The first explosion was just a splash in the bath compared to the tsunami that is coming if he doesn’t watch himself. No one ever listens to me. No one wants to see the truth, not where she’s involved. She seems more trustworthy, I get it, but I know better. I know her so well.
“Now that’s not true,” he says. “I want to hear your version, Mark. I want to hear what happened.”
Chapter Seven
Her
THEN
“How was work?” I asked as Mark hurried in the door with a bright smile plastered on his face. He seemed happy, the happiest I’d seen him in a while.
“Fantastic,” he said, laughter filling his voice. “This place is…amazing, Han. The partners are going to be great to work for, I can already tell. I have a real office there—I can’t wait for you to see it—and I have my own secretary, a door, a separate phone line. It feels like it’s all coming together.” He held his arms out and scooped me up as I walked toward him, spinning me around and kissing my lips. He planted his hand firmly on my butt as our kiss grew more intense. All too soon, he pulled away. “All we’ve worked for, babe, it’s finally happening.”