Daniel Annechino - Hypocrisy

T.J. closed his eyes, his face looked as if he were in pain right now. “Week number twenty is what got me. I tore my ACL and it was lights out. They booted me from the program. No second chances. Twenty friggin’ weeks of brutal training. Five weeks away from the finish line, and I crapped out.”

“Wow,” Dupree said. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like.”

“So close. So damn close.”

Neither spoke for a long, awkward few minutes.

“That had to be the worst experience of your life.”

“Not even close.” He dropped his chin to his chest.

Dupree was completely absorbed, feeling that the rest of the story was going to be difficult for T.J.

“My parents, once again, tried to convince me to attend college. But I wanted no part of it. My brain was too messed up. So, for the next few years, I hopped from job to job—construction, car sales, bank teller—never really finding anything that felt like the right fit. Then something amazing happened. I met a woman who absolutely knocked me off my feet. I know it sounds so cliché, but if there is such a thing as love at first sight, then Haley and I were living proof.”

T.J. paused and gazed out the windshield. By the uptight look on his face, Dupree had a sense that he was dealing with some powerful emotions.

“Haley and I got married less than a year after we met. My parents offered some financial assistance, so we bought a small fixer-upper home in Jersey City. Haley was a legal assistant and I settled in a job selling BMWs. I wasn’t crazy about it, but I was a pretty fair salesman, the money was really good, and we were living a decent life.”

T.J. appeared to be deep in thought, as if he were playing a game of chess and couldn’t figure out his next move. He seemed gripped by some powerful anxiety.

“The BMW dealer I worked for put together a weekend tent sale. I liked these events for the money, but hated the hours. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday from eight a.m. to midnight. I had an awesome day on Saturday. Sold eight cars and earned over six grand in commissions. I couldn’t wait to get home and share this with Haley. We never had a real honeymoon so we were saving for a Caribbean cruise.

“By the time I wrapped up my last deal of the day, I didn’t leave the tent sale until one a.m. I was going to call Haley and let her know I was on my way, but I figured she was probably passed out in front of the TV waiting for me to come home, so I didn’t want to disturb her.

“When I walked in the door, the TV was on and the volume way too high. But I knew my Haley. She could sleep if a bomb went off under her pillow. I checked out the couch, certain I’d find her curled in the fetal position. But she wasn’t there. I turned off the TV and couldn’t figure out why she’d left it on and went up to bed.”

T.J. tightened his fists.

“I tiptoed into our bedroom. There was enough light spilling in from the hallway for me to barely see that Haley was lying on her back sleeping on the bed. But she wasn’t under the covers. At first glance, it didn’t hit me, but then I remembered that Haley hated sleeping on her back. She had always been a side-sleeper. I figured that she must have been really tired and didn’t care what position she was in as long as she was sleeping.

I flipped on the nightlight in the master bath just so there was enough light for me to see what I was doing. As I began to undress, I glanced over at Haley…”

T.J. wiped the corners of his eyes with his hands and his voice was unsteady.

“I noticed that she was completely naked. I went to her and gently touched her arm. That’s when I saw it… my necktie wrapped around her throat. No pulse. No breathing. When I turned on the light, I could see by the bruises on her breasts and upper thighs… that she’d been… raped.” He paused. “Now I understood why the TV was blaring. They didn’t want anyone to hear her…”

Dupree didn’t utter a sound, her mouth wide open. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t come up with even a drop of saliva. She recalled the rape-murder. It had been in the headlines for weeks and had made national news. “I… I don’t know what to say, T.J.”

“Forensics determined that it was more than one assailant. Probably three.” He looked out the side window. “They also discovered that Haley was about six weeks pregnant.”

At this point, Dupree wished there was a way to ease his pain, but all she could do was show him as much empathy and compassion as possible.

“Odd how composed I remained after discovering her body. My brain completely shut down. I could feel nothing—not even hatred for the animals who’d killed her. But then, a few months later, it walloped me. My emotions woke up and I went into a total tailspin. Had it not been for my parents, I’d be in a padded cell wearing a straitjacket.

“I didn’t do much for the next few months except watch TV and constantly ask God, ‘why her?’

“Once I cleared out the cobwebs, I felt a strong pull towards law enforcement. So, I got a degree in criminology, landed a job as a beat cop, and eventually made it to detective. Maybe that’s why I’m so intense when I’m interrogating suspects. When I look into their eyes, I ask myself, ‘was it you?’”

Dupree still didn’t know what to say. In a situation like this, what could she say? Right now, all she wanted to do was hold T.J. tightly and cry with him.

“Working as a cop, trying to make some sense of it all, hoping to make a difference, just didn’t seem enough. I needed to do more. So, a few months back, shortly after we became partners, I volunteered to work at the Rape Crisis Center in Harlem. I’m not really qualified to be a counselor, but they’re so desperate for help they accepted my application. I helped them out on an ‘on-call’ basis. As it turned out, they always called me for graveyard shifts—midnight to four a.m. Needless to say, working the demanding schedule as a detective and then dealing with the Crisis Center, my body and brain were on total meltdown. That’s why I was always coming in late and walked around like a zombie.

“When you finally called me out on my poor performance, I realized that I couldn’t continue this pace or I’d jeopardize my career. So, I stopped volunteering.”

Dupree’s stomach twisted into a knot. Guilt ridden, feeling as if it was her fault that he quit volunteering for something he felt so passionately about, she thought she would throw up. “T.J., I… I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not about you; it’s about me. I’m glad you kicked me in the ass. I was headed on a crash course and needed someone to shake some sense into me. You did exactly that, and that’s what partners are supposed to do.”

“Is there any way you can work just a few hours a week?” Dupree asked, feeling stupid as soon as she asked the question.

“It wasn’t just the impossible schedule that got to me. Can you even begin to imagine what it’s like to spend sixteen to twenty hours a week dealing with rape victims?” He fixed his eyes on Dupree’s. “Each woman I spoke to reminded me of Haley, made me relive the nightmare. Had I not resigned, I would have ended up in Bellevue.”

If ever there was an awkward silence, Dupree thought, this was it.

“So, Amaris, maybe now you understand why I didn’t carry my weight for such a long time, why I played the role as some carefree playboy. It was my way of hiding the truth. I’m sorry. I placed you in an impossible situation.”

“T.J., I have no words to express—”

“I understand.”

“Does anyone else in the department know about this?”

“Other than my parents, you’re the only soul on Earth.”

Having shared the intimate details of their lives, Dupree felt a visceral connection to T.J.—something she’d never felt before. Maybe now, their partnership would reach a new level of mutual trust and respect.