M Sellars - All acts of pleasure

“Oh, trust me, I know that.”

“Then don’t make jokes.”

“Aren’t you the one who just said a few minutes ago that if you didn’t joke about it you’d cry?”

“Aye, and it mustn’t work, because crying is obviously what I’ve been doing then, isn’t it?” she chided.

“Yes, it is. I’m just trying not to join you.”

“Come on in,” she offered. “The more the merrier.”

“Who’s making jokes now?”

She simply shrugged in reply.

“Uh-huh, well, I think I’ll pass. It’s not really my kind of merry. So, you’ve been sitting here trying to convince me you want a divorce, which we both know is a lie. And now you’re telling me that it’s a gift for me. Well, here’s a news flash. I’m returning it because I don’t want it.”

“Rowan…this is serious.”

“No kidding…Look, honey…I don’t know where this is coming from, but it needs to stop. I feel like all I’ve done since yesterday morning is argue with everyone in my path. With some of them, it’s been for good reason, and others…Well, as much as I hate to admit it, it’s just been because I’m mad at the world right now.

“All I can tell you is that you are the one person I don’t want to argue with…especially not now…so, the truth is if I don’t treat this like a joke and laugh at it, my brain is going to seize up because I’m all out of tears right now.”

“But, Rowan…”

“But what?”

“A divorce would be in your best interest, then.”

My headache was still gaining ground. I took off my glasses and laid them aside while I took a moment to rub my eyes. After slipping the spectacles back onto my face, I folded my hands in front of me and regarded her quietly.

After what seemed a long pause, I said, “Okay, I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain that one.”

“Do you really want to visit me in prison?” she appealed.

“No. But that’s a moot point because you aren’t going to prison.”

“Be realistic.”

“I am.”

“Rowan…think about it…look at the evidence they have.”

“I haven’t exactly been privy to much,” I told her. “Especially since your lawyer won’t talk to me about it.”

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I’ll tell Jackie to get you back into the loop then.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“Well, either way, certainly by now you know about the DNA evidence they have. Right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was mentioned.”

“Well, the way I understand it, that’s pretty bad.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“So, think about it. I must have done it. I must have killed them.”

I shook my head at her. “You see, now I know I didn’t just hear you say you killed those men.”

“I don’t know! I just don’t know,” she snipped, finally looking me in the eyes. Then, as she lowered her face once again, her voice became choked and almost whimpering. “I can’t remember…I can’t…”

Fear suddenly thrust icy fingers into my chest and took hold of my heart for a pair of beats.

“Felicity… Gods… Please tell me you didn’t confess to these murders.”

“No, I didn’t,” she whispered.

“Then just what did you tell the police?”

“Nothing really. Jackie has been handling it.”

“Good.” I let out a relieved sigh. “Let her. That’s what she’s getting paid for.”

“But, what if…”

“We’ve discussed this, Felicity. There is no what if.”

“I know we’ve talked about it, but listen to me, Rowan. What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“But…”

“Listen to me. You did not kill anyone.”

“How can you be so sure, especially when I’m not?”

“I just am.”

“Rowan…”

“Honey, just think about it. If you had done it, don’t you think someone on the other side would be slapping me in the back of the head about now?”

“Aye, maybe they are and you’re ignoring them,” she replied, still sniffling. “You’ve got a headache. I can tell.”

“It’s not that kind of headache.”

“Liar.”

“You know, you’re going to give me a complex. That’s the second time you’ve called me a liar in the past half hour.”

“Only because it’s the second time you’ve lied to me in that same half hour.”

“Must be losing my touch. You usually don’t catch me.”

“No, I almost always catch you. I just usually don’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well, maybe so, but that still doesn’t change the fact that you’re innocent.”

“Aye, I wish I could be as certain of that as you are.”

“Well, I’m going to have to ask you to work on that because I need you to believe it as well.”

“I’ll try.”

“So…after all that, do you still want a divorce?”

“No. I didn’t really want one to begin with.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“But you might.”

I gave my head a frustrated shake. “I thought we’d…”

“Just hear me out for a second,” she interrupted.

“Fine,” I surrendered. “But please let’s not start this argument up all over again.”

“It’s about the evidence.”

“Okay, what about it?”

“What evidence have you heard about?”

“So far, just the DNA and the hair. They took some of your clothes from the house. They also grabbed some books from my office, but those were mine…and the library’s, so they don’t count. Other than that, not much, really.”

She sighed and glanced away then looked back to me with a renewed nervousness.

“I love you, Rowan Linden Gant,” she abruptly announced.

“Right back at ya’, Felicity Caitlin O’Brien,” I answered. “But somehow I don’t think that qualifies as evidence.”

“No, but my overnight bag is a bit of a different story, then,” she confessed. “And, you need to know that no matter what they imply to you, I have never…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before the guard outside opened the door once again then stepped in and announced, “Time’s up.”

“Just another minute or so,” I appealed.

“No sir. I already let you go long as it is,” she replied in a vindictive tone. “ Your time is up. Now you’re wasting my time.”

I wasn’t smiling when I walked out into the afternoon daylight. There wasn’t even an expression remotely resembling good humor in close proximity to my face. I know the chorus of the once popular song said that after “fighting authority”, I was supposed to come out “grinnin’”, but it just wasn’t going to happen.

I’d been locked in this me-versus-the-law free-for-all since Friday morning, and it was getting tiresome. Thus far I hadn’t accomplished much of anything other than digging myself into a deeper hole because, also like the song says, the bastards did indeed keep coming out on top. There was, however, a point other than the “grinnin’” where the lyrics and I would again be diverging-and that was very simply the fact that I wasn’t about to let them “always win”.

As far as I was concerned, they were welcome to claim victory in all of the skirmishes they wanted. The truth was they already had, with their latest triumph being my unceremonious ejection from the interview room and immediate escort out the front doors of the Justice Center. However, when it came down to the fate of my wife, I was going to prevail, not them. They just didn’t know it yet. However, the fact that the details of how I was going to accomplish this were still radically fuzzier than my crystal clear conviction was a moot point at the moment, because my mind was actually elsewhere.

It was still back upstairs with my wife.