Going back to work was the easy part. Pretending that she appreciated sympathy wasn’t. Six days ago, she’d buried her husband. Six days of almost unbearable lightness, of not weighing words except for the ones to those who mourned him and thought she did too. But even those were of little consequence in her mind. To her, consequence meant avoiding the blows and donning another turtleneck the next morning. A disapproving glance was nothing.
Not only six days, but five nights. Five nights of sleeping uninterrupted and without fear of being awakened by his rage or, worse, his desire.
“You look like you’re holding up, Cullers. Are you?”
“More than you know, Mags.”
“Glad to have you back.”
Cade kept his attention on his computer, not telling Rory that Maggie was right, that the dark circles under her eyes had all but vanished and that she no longer looked exhausted. Nor did he tell her that there was a spring in her step that he’d never seen before.
“That column you were talking about, Mags, the one you wanted me to take over, I’d like to do it.”
“You sure, Cullers?”
“Sure. It’ll keep me busy.”
He waited until Maggie walked away. “Are you sure you aren’t taking too much on, Roar?”
“I’m good, Cade. I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time, but didn’t because of Paul. By the way, I brought you my file on Julie now that I’m done with it. There’s something about it that still bothers me, but I can’t figure it out,” she said, pulling a thick file out of her briefcase. “There’s a bunch of letters in there, the police report, and an envelope of photos that Charles gave me. I never looked at the photos, though.”
“Why not?” Cade took the file and flipped through it quickly.
“They’re from the night she disappeared. I just couldn’t.”