Page 138 of The Lies I Told
I wanted to reach through the glass and smash his forlorn face. “I know. And I know she was so emotional then. She said things to me I know she regretted.”
“I understood she didn’t want to hurt me.”
“There were times when she’d start screaming at me. When she did that, I always thought I’d lose my mind. She could be so dramatic.”
His eyes grew a little distant, and when he looked at me, I wasn’t sure who he was seeing. “I just wanted you to be quiet and listen to me.”
He was mixing us up, so I played along. “I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry.”
“I thought you’d gone to sleep. I thought you’d wake up and we’d talk and work it all out.”
“Having a baby scared me.”
“Not me. Never me. I asked you to marry me.”
“Why did I go to sleep?”
He dropped his hand. “I put my hands around your neck to silence you. I just wanted you to be quiet. Then you went to sleep and you didn’t wake up.”
Tears glistened in my eyes. “You didn’t mean to squeeze so long. I know that.”
“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t.”
Rage charged me, but I pushed it aside. “And you called Jack.”
“I didn’t want to. But I didn’t know what else to do,” David said. “He could fix anything.”
“Where did she die, David?” I asked.
“In my car. We were in the back seat. She changed her mind and wanted to leave. I just wanted to talk.”
I still kept my fingers pressed to the glass. “It’s no one’s fault.”
He looked up at me. “I’m so sorry.”
“Jack stripped her, didn’t he? A fixer would have thought about DNA.”
“I could barely watch. I was crying. And a mess.”
More tears sprang from my eyes, but they were prompted by rage. “Did you carry her to the river and leave her there?”
He shook his head and dropped his gaze. “No. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave her. Jack did it.”
The door to my room opened and Richards appeared. “That’s good, Marisa.”
I rose. My legs were shaky, and my hands were trembling.
David looked up at me. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
He would spend the rest of his life suffering. He would rot in hell. I wanted to rail. Tell him I hated him.
“Let it go,” Clare whispered. “Don’t carry this anymore.”
My shoulders slumped. “I’ll never forgive you, David. Never.”
53
MARISA
