No Body, No Crime

PART SEVEN :: All My Flowers Grew Back as Thorns

 To say that my indecision and confusion about the situation with Bethel and Natalie had driven a wedge into my marriage would be accurate. Mine and Robin's new baby- named Inez- kept us busy enough, but I avoided him at all costs during the few quiet hours of the day. I busied myself with tackling the endless laundry pile, cooking a casserole that would serve as dinner for a few nights, or scrubbing the bathroom for the hundredth time—anything to avoid unnecessary interaction with my husband.

Robin noticed something was off. Our constant banter and affectionate looks became replaced by witty remarks on his end and clipped answers from me. He didn't see it at first because the stress of settling into our new baby routine was bound to create some slight dysfunction. However, as a few weeks stretched into three months, he began to pick up on something. God bless oblivious men and their inability to pick up on emotions quickly.

Eventually, he cornered me as I took a casserole out of the oven. I tensed up as soon as I saw his shadow cross over to where I was in the kitchen.

"Marj, is something wrong?" He asked, concern laced in his voice.

"Nope," I responded.

"You sure? You've been acting... different for a while now."

"Nothing's wrong."

"But you seem off. You haven't been talking to me as much as you usually do-"

Setting the casserole down, I threw my oven mitt against the counter. "There is nothing-" I slammed the oven door shut. "Wrong. Now would you please just leave me alone?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted saying them. I watched his face fall, and I felt my heart screaming at me.

"Ok." He shuffled out of the kitchen.

I stared at the casserole, praying that the cheesy potato deliciousness could give me the answers to the universe's secrets that I had yet to discover. Why did I say that to him? He hadn't even done anything.

I hung my head in defeat. Este Hollis somehow controlled my life even from the grave, which didn't sit well with me. I didn't like the idea of someone I didn't even know dictating my decisions, especially those that had zero effect on her.

Shame weighing my shoulders down, I shuffled out of the kitchen to find Robin. As per my prediction, he was sitting at the foot of our bed, his head in his hands.

"Hey," I said tentatively, unsure of how upset he was with me.

"Hey." His tone was dejected and defeated, as though he'd somehow engaged in a battle with me he knew he could never win. Perhaps he had, and I simply didn't know it. The potential allegations about him murdering Este were enough to destroy a relationship permanently.

"I wanted to apologize for snapping at you earlier. That was... out of line. I shouldn't have let my stress slip out like that."

He smiled at me, and I forgot about the drama surrounding him. "I forgive you. The new baby was bound to stress us out and change our communication strategies, and I shouldn't have pushed you to answer me when I asked you what was going on. It's obvious the more I think about it. You're stressed. I haven't been taking enough care of you."

I shook my head. "It isn't that. I just- God, I don't know. I haven't been a good enough wife lately. I'm- I- I have no idea how to raise a kid. The town hates us enough as-is. I don't want "failed mother" added to the list of not-so-affectionate titles the town has deemed appropriate for me. I want to raise my kid right."

He smiled at me, and all of my cares faded away for that moment. The world could've burned around me, and I wouldn't've batted an eye.

"Marj, you'll raise our kid perfectly. I'm sure of it."

I should've caught the red flags right there. The way he specified that I would be the one raising the kid, the fact that it had to be "perfect" rather than "wonderful." But I was in love and stupid and blind. My momma always told me it wasn't good to dwell on the past because we could no longer control it. But alas, a girl must indulge herself from time to time. Maybe, if I'd had my head on straight and picked up on his speech pattern, I'd still be alive.