Blood On Her Hands

Chapter 39

Vincent sent me a flurry of unprofessionally jolly emojis in response to the documents I sent him pictures of. He called me a few hours later to ask how exactly I managed to do it with Kyra and Mac listening in through speaker phone from the station.

“That’s smart,” Mac commented after I mentioned the article writing excuse. “Since you framed it as a surprise he won’t say a word.” 

I heard a sadistic chuckle and knew it was Kyra before she even spoke. "If all it takes is a sappy love story to get them to hand over sensitive documents, that company is going nowhere.”

“And you talked with Darren as well?” Vincent asked. The question made me flush with color and I was glad he couldn't see me. I did more than talk with him and I was beginning to regret it. I could see how it only further clouded my judgment. It was harder to remember how cruelly he spoke to me in the heat of the argument and easier to get lost in his beautiful qualities. 

“Yeah, we kissed and made up. He’s not suspicious of anything.” I rushed the sentence out like a sneeze. It sounded like I was implying it was all for show but when I kissed Darren it was because I felt our love had been reborn, not to keep an act going. 

I was being reckless. 

“Alright, well you know what to do. Keep an eye out for anything you think might help the case, watch your back, and I’ll be here looking through these documents,” Vincent said, signing off the call. Mac and Kyra echoed goodbyes and the dial tone beeped. 

The next day, as I pulled out my set of warm clothes from a bin underneath my bed, I told myself that the date I was about to go on was purely for investigation purposes. Even I couldn't believe myself. The fight at Darren's apartment felt like the event that was going to end us. After our talk yesterday, it felt like the event marking the start of a new and better us. This time, without any secrets. All of Darren’s cards were on the table. I could understand him and he’d work on not letting the fear of losing me make him act out. This optimism amid the endless storm of trauma and confusion was the piece of driftwood I clung on to for the whole day. 

When Darren stood beside me staring up at a massive painting hanging on the white walls of the art exhibit and his fingers grazed against the sleeves of my sweater with shyness, hope should have blossomed. When I caught him eyeing anyone who got a little too close to me, placing his body in front of mine protectively, hope should have  blossomed. When we sat in his car listening to the songs we used to love when we were first starting out, hope should have blossomed. 

Instead, I felt a pit forming in my stomach. I wanted to pull away from his touch. I didn't want to be stared at lovingly. I remembered how he saw me as naive and helpless. I remembered how he made being with me sound like a burden. When we kissed, I had all these hopes of a fresh start but the reality was that our relationship had been stained by the fight and I had no idea if it would wash away with time. 

We parked outside of my house when the sky was dotted with stars and the crickets were chirping. We sat in silence for a minute, our breath making swirls of smoke. Darren was beaming at me. The moonlight pouring in through the window could have been coming from him. My smile, on the other hand, felt stiff and made my cheeks ache. 

Something was missing. Something between us had disappeared. 

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Our family was going to visit Adonis's grave. It was the first time we were going together and everyone was buzzing around the house like worker bees. Nancy spent a lot of time flattening the curls Adonis preferred on her and Tìa was flipping through her wallet for the business card of a flower shop that sold the most beautiful arrangements.