The Sunday Wife: A Lockdown Thriller Read online

  “No, I, I didn’t mean…” Confusion spun like a tornado through my system. What did I mean exactly?

  The room. The photos. My childhood in polaroids all flashed before me.

  “But my life—the wall of photos in the basement…”

  Tav arched an eyebrow.

  “Didn’t you see them? Someone has been watching me since...forever.”

  “Frey, what the hell are you saying?”

  He brought his hands to cup my cheeks, concern swirling in his familiar brown irises. “I did my best to offer you the world, but it wasn’t good enough. You really don’t remember any of the good stuff do you? The truth is, I lost you long ago to your heartache. I didn’t need couples therapy to tell me that.”

  “So you've moved on?” I squeaked. “It’s the woman in the pantsuit, isn’t it?”

  Tav shook his head and dropped his fingertips from my skin. “She’s good on paper.”

  “G-good on paper?”

  “For the campaign, she’s good for the campaign. We haven’t announced anything, dad’s campaign manager says the mystery is good for generating interest.”

  “You d-dumped me for Campaign Barbie to pat your arm and hold a clipboard?”

  “It’s easier than—” he stopped, eyes cutting across the room to the window. Clouds clung to the wintery mountain peaks in the distance. I wondered if one of them was my mountain.

  Storm clouds shrouded every angle.

  “Easier than what, Tav? Easier than breaking up with me, treating me with dignity and respect and just telling me the truth?”

  An angry flash crossed his eyes. “You’re not ready for the truth.”

  “Try me.”

  He arched a painfully cocky eyebrow, unused to me speaking up so boldly and making so many demands of him.

  “Buying you a house in the mountains was easier than getting rid of you.”

  My blood boiled. “Get rid of me?”

  Tav gnashed down on his teeth, that familiar look of quiet contempt crossing his features a moment. This was the stage where I usually shrunk under that gaze, conceded to whatever statement he was making just to clear the clouds from his face.

  But not today. “I am your Sunday wife, aren’t I? You put me on the back burner for her, I can see it all over your face, Tav. How long has this been going on?”

  He shook his head, crossing to me in angry strides before cupping my chin in his fingers and forcing my eyes on him. “You’re hallucinating again. I signed that house over to you, your name is on the deed. Paid for in cash.” He stopped himself before cutting his gaze away from mine. “While you’ve been living every day in the past, life has marched on without you. I couldn’t stand by and watch you do it anymore. I asked you to move to the city with me, begged you to marry me at the courthouse even after the miscarriage, offered to spend more time at the house in Lancaster working remotely, you don’t remember any of that?”

  I shook my head, blinking back tears. Was he right? Had I completely checked out of our future together?

  “No, I…” I pushed a palm over my forehead, suddenly wishing for one of my little magic pills to carry my thoughts away and leave only sweet numbness in its wake.

  “I still love you, Frey. I love you so much it scares me.” He dropped his chin to force my eyes on his. They shimmered with the calm, serene intimacy I loved so much about him. “From the moment we met it feels like I’ve known you for a lifetime.” I blinked back the emotion in his words, flashes of Sunday school pictures playing like a reel in my mind. “I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.” The pad of his thumb was tracing my bottom lip then. I could feel myself succumbing to him, my muscles loosening as he acted like a drug on my system.

  “I…” I swallowed, my throat suddenly constricted. “Tav, I…”

  “I only wanted what was best for you. Even if you didn’t always see it, I did.”

  More flashes of sepia-toned polaroids clouded my vision. Someone always lurking in the shadows.

  “I’ll always watch out for you, Frey. From day one I’ve been watching out for you.”

  I sobbed then, the stranger clinging to the shadows of the coffee shop the day I met Bradley again came back to me. The dance floor at the bar. Sunday school. “You have been watching me, haven’t you? Since before I even knew your name, you’ve been watching. My entire lifetime, you’ve been there, haven’t you, Tav?”

  His eyes darkened.

  “The photos in the basement of the chalet, the title of the car listed in Alexandria...my mom.”

  His frown twitched. “Hm. You have been paying attention, haven’t you?”

  Tav laced his fingers with mine, connecting us in a familiar gesture, but one that suddenly made my blood run cold. He’d always been able to twist his emotions and mine, I’d found it comforting before, like his ability to read me was his superpower. But could it be a flaw not a feature?

  “With the solar power and top-of-the-line security I could help insure your safety. I could check in on you and provide for you. You were safe on that mountain. I can’t protect you now.”

  “Why?” I tore out of his reach. “How long has it been, really? Was this some sick game? Were you always planning to make me into your sweet little Sunday wife, locked in a closet while you lived some other life with another family?”

  Annoyance slipped over his features. “Oh Frey, you don’t know the half of it. You aren’t the Sunday wife, you never were. Your mother was.”

  Thirty-Six

  “My earliest memory is of my mom and dad fighting over you.”

  “What are you talking about?” I spit.

  “My dad always kept other women. Your mother was his favorite.”

  “H-his favorite?” I gulped, a ball of angry tears clawing at my throat.

  “My mother kept track, kept them under wraps, made sure they wouldn’t be a problem for his political career. She had her own dalliances too, but it was his that was the problem. Mom drank too much wine on the nights dad came home and instead of family bonding, they fought while I hid out in my room playing video games. The insults I heard them hurl at each other were far more vicious than the curses the other guys in the game used. Sometimes, escaping reality is the only way forward, but I’m sure you know that by now, huh Frey?”

  I hated my name on his lips. I hated that he hadn’t told me any of this before now.

  “My mother was convinced for a while that you were my father’s bastard child. Your mom and my dad were sweethearts through all of high school, by the time my parents met in college, they’d gone their separate ways, but when dad ran for local legislature his profile grew. He spent more time in the city and doing townhalls across state lines. And he reconnected with your mom again. Mom suspected they were having an affair after I was born, by the time you came along and I was old enough to understand what they were saying...well, I knew I had to know the girl that was tearing my family apart. I hated you for a long time, Frey...until I saw you for the first time.”

  My head ached with his admissions. Could I believe anything anymore? This man I’d trusted more than anyone else in my life was suddenly twisting all of my known memories upside down, shifting and interchanging my history like the pieces of a puzzle.

  “You were dressed in your Sunday best, a white dress with tiny strawberries and red ribbons in your hair. You had so many freckles I knew you couldn’t be my dad’s kid—he passed on his dark olive skin to me and my brothers and sister, but you...you were fair and innocent. I knew how vicious he could be, I knew he would ruin you if your mom gave him the chance.”

  I blinked back memories of hiding beneath a mattress, Chuck’s boots and the smell of whiskey in the air.

  “I was fifteen the Sunday I borrowed a friend’s car and followed him to the next town. I couldn’t believe it when he pulled into a church parking lot, and then I saw you and your mom come down the steps. The way her face lit up when she saw him like she’d just been given the best surprise o
f her life. My mom’s face never lit up like that when dad came home, not even after being gone all week working in Alexandria.”

  Alexandria.

  I then remembered the investigator’s words over the phone about messages from a number in Alexandria. Had Tav’s father been working there all along? How had I missed that? And then I realized Tav had withheld that information from me on purpose. Tav was a senator’s son, and I was only collateral damage on the path to a political career for this family.

  Just like my mom had been.

  “I went every Sunday after that. Cringed as dad took pictures of this other family that wasn’t mine, while mom drank imported French wine and cried at home. I hated him, but it didn’t take me long to love you, Frey. I was so jealous of what you had with him for so long, I couldn't understand it and I craved it at the same time. At first I thought there must be something about you that made him like you more than us. I had to get to know you to figure it out, but I never had the guts to actually talk to you. I picked up your hair bow one time, it had little ice cream cones with sprinkles printed on it and it went flying as Bradley pushed you on the swings. You were laughing too hard to realize and left without finding it. I still have it. Well, I did.”

  I struggled to remember all of the mementos pinned to the wall, many I had no memory of—they were Tav’s memories of my life.

  “But why now? Why the photos?”

  “I was so sick of living the lie, Frey. You thought you had such a close relationship with Bradley, but I’ve known you just as long. Our families have been connected even longer. My mother forced my father to take a blood test to prove his paternity. I have the paperwork, it’s negative, Freya. I don’t know who your real dad is, but I think my dad loved you like you might be his because of your mom...he...changed once life in the senate got ahold of him.”

  “Chuck—he stopped visiting my mom all of a sudden. I can’t believe...is Chuck your dad?” I wiped at my wet eyes as I thought of the months of worry and heartache that consumed her the last time he left for good. “She never said why, but it broke her. We moved right after that. I think that’s why she moved to California, she needed a new life and she never really found it after he left. I still can’t believe…”

  Tav’s eyes were cold, assessing me with none of the tenderness of earlier. “He had to leave, just like I did. There was no other way.”

  “You didn’t have to do anything, what you should have done was tell me all of this the first time we met.” I slammed my eyes closed, thinking of our first official meeting in the art gallery. “I mean, at the gallery...it was all staged then?”

  “No, I didn’t know you were going to be there, Frey. I let you live your life, I went to college and didn’t think twice, but when I saw you across the gallery I knew it was you. I could never forget you. The freckles and the dip of your neck.”

  “You—you turned me into your own Sunday wife, Tav...” A shudder of disdain coiled in my stomach.

  “No, that’s not what happened. If your mom wouldn’t have started that me too activism shit none of this would have happened, I swear to you that. She knew my dad was in a powerful position now and she tried to leverage their past to ruin him. It was brutal, he’s done so much good to boil it all down to one shitty affair years ago…”

  “What activism? My mom never said anything about what you’re saying.”

  “Why would she? Can’t imagine explaining herself as a serial homewrecker to her daughter would rate too high on her list of priorities. She had evidence though, mountains of photos and letters, I had to clear it all after you bailed on the investigation.”

  “B-bailed?”

  “After you hung up on the investigator he called me, you gave him my number and told him to direct any questions through me. I handled all of the clean-up after your mother’s death, Frey, don’t tell me you don’t remember that either?”

  “You never said anything...did you go to California without me?”

  “The investigator needed someone and you weren’t in a position to go after losing the baby.”

  “You didn’t ask me?”

  “You’d locked yourself in our bedroom for days, what was I supposed to do?”

  I thought of the letter from my mother, Tav’s insistence that this was my mother’s fault. The threatening messages from a burner phone in Alexandra.

  “I don’t believe you.” He arched an eyebrow. “I think you’re lying.” I spit defiantly.

  “My dad finally ended it with your mom not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Your mom was already under surveillance then, she was on a watch list, and she only grew more bitter the more his prominence in Washington rose. She finally found a way to wedge herself back into his life, she was willing to use anything to get his attention again, even if it meant lying. When she made the decision to write a book and go on a national radio show and talk about how men in powerful positions use their access to violate and manipulate women sexually,” Tav shook his head, “dad’s hands were tied.”

  “Tied?”

  “She had too much access to his past, was too much of a liability. Don’t you see, Frey, if the man is going to get elected, he can have a few skeletons in the closet, but they have to be squeaky clean. Your mom was giving talks and readings of her book at local bookstores and talked about donating the money to local women’s shelters like some reformed do-gooder. She became a Goddamn hero in that city, it was only a matter of time before the news broke that the man she’d had an affair with was a senator.”

  “N-no…” I thought of the investigator's words about some details of my mother’s death being inconsistent with an accident. “No, you...you did this? You took my mom from me?”

  Tav shook his head. “Of course not.”

  “But you know who did?”

  “I don’t.”

  “But you knew it was going to happen? Her accident was planned?”

  Tav’s eyes held mine. “Your mother talked about running for local office.”

  “She was a hippie psychotherapist that hated politics, what are you talking about?”

  Tav shook his head. “She started a new life in California, Frey, a life she never told you about.”

  I thought of the dozens of photos pinned to the wall, her smile warm and inviting in all of them. Tears leaked from my eyelashes. “No.”

  “Talking too much put her at risk.”

  “No…” the slow realization that my mother was murdered overcame me. “No, no, no!”

  “And you were next, Frey. Don’t you see? I saved your life when I brought you to the top of that mountain.”

  Thirty-Seven

  “I did my best to save you, you were just too damn stubborn to see it. Now you’ve gone and forced the hand. I tried to warn your mom, hell, I tried so many times with messages and letters and anything I could think of, but she just wouldn’t shut up. She could never let the past stay buried.”

  “I can’t believe my entire life has been a lie.”

  “Not all of it. I’ve loved you from the beginning.” He ran his thumb along my cheekbone. “Isn’t it reassuring? We’re more connected than we even knew.”

  “Don’t touch me.” I wrenched away from the man I’d nearly married. “You lied to me!”

  “Listen, I fought with dad for weeks over this. You and me are too complicated, a reporter would only have had to scratch the surface and they would have found the connection between us. You were the last clue to handle.”

  “T-the last clue?” My hands shook. “You’re a psycho, Tav. Do you hear yourself? You’ve been following me since I was a kid. You tried to lock me away on top of a mountain and I’m afraid to ask what you did or didn’t do when it came to my mom’s accident… You could go to jail for this.”

  Tav shook his head, cocky grin turning his lips again. “How? I left everything to you, Freya. How can I lock you in a house that you own? A car at the base of the mountain left for you? I warned your mother that she was tanglin
g with a beast she couldn’t control, she chose not to listen. Where’s the crime? My only fault is loving you too much. I bought you the perfect paradise and now you’ve thrown it in my face over a cheap lover’s quarrel? Imagine the field day the media would have with that story. Imagine how they would twist your truth around to sell copies of their newspapers and clicks on their ads. Your addiction to the pills has reached another level, Frey.” He dipped close, lips at my cheek. “You’re acting so crazy you might need another stay at the treatment center. Don’t play the part of the scorned woman like your mother did, we were about to have a baby together. And then the tragedy of losing your mother stole the future from us. We were about to be married, Frey, if anything different comes out now, no one will believe you. The story has been set in motion.” His smile turned superficially pleasant. “After all, the medical records prove my side of the story. We break up and I give you a house as a parting gift and you retaliate bitterly like this? Can’t you see my hands were tied, there was no other way. Politics is like being at the top of that mountain, it’s kill or be killed. Hiding you up there was the only thing I could think to do to keep you safe, at least for now.”

  “For now?” I seethed. “I thought we had the perfect life, but it was the perfect lie.”

  Tav’s hands cupped my cheeks. “I’m sorry it ended this way. I do love you.” He leaned in close, fingers clutching around my neck with a firm grip I wasn’t used to. “And really, Freya?” He caught my earlobe with his teeth, tone seething. “The lawn guy?”

  Thirty-Eight

  “Politics is hell, ya know? Angels can’t fly in Hell with the demons.” Tav’s grin turned pleasant, like his lofty words explained everything.

  “What does that even mean?” I huffed.

  “It means you’re too good for this world, too good for me.”