Never Knowing

were huge, my face pale. I opened the cabinet and took out the bottle.

“Fill up that glass with water.” Billy motioned to the glass I’d left on the counter earlier. “Hurry up.”

I turned on the tap.

“Billy, please, you don’t have to do this.”

His voice deepened. “Take them.”

I emptied the bottle into my shaking hand and stared at the small white tablets. The glass was cold in my other hand.

Billy said, “If you don’t swallow them, I’ll have to shoot you. Ally will hear, then she’ll come to—”

I pushed the pills into my mouth, choking on the chalky, bitter taste. I held the cold glass to my lips and took a swallow of water, then another as pills lodged in my throat, the bitter taste traveling up the back of my nose.

“Those ones too.” He pointed the gun at a small bottle of Percocet I keep for migraines.

When I was done he nodded and said, “Now we have to mess up your bed.”

“But I don’t—”

“You were trying to go to sleep, but you were so depressed you decided to end everything once and for all.”

With the gun still pointed at my back, I tugged the blanket free.

“Now strip.”

“Billy, you don’t want to do this.”

He raised the gun and pointed it at me. “Right, I don’t. But no way in hell I’m going to jail.”

The books said to fight. But they didn’t say what to do if the threat was a cop. And they didn’t say what to do if your daughter was in the other room. I pictured Ally skipping in to wake me in the morning, climbing into bed next to my cold body.

I pulled my sweater over my head. He motioned with the gun to my pants. I unzipped them and tugged them off, leaving them on the floor.

I stood before him in my panties and bra. He was looking around the room, at the bed, at the door. Like he was making sure the scene was right.

He stepped closer until his huge body was directly in front of me.

“Take off your bra.” After my bra fell to the ground, I crossed my arms over my breasts. My whole upper body was shaking.

“Drop your arms.”

“Billy, please, I don’t—”

“If you don’t, I’ll have to do it myself.”

I dropped my arms.

“Now take off your panties.”

Tears streaked my face as I peeled them off. I choked back a sob.

“Are you going to rape me?” I thought of Ally in the next room. I couldn’t scream, no matter what he did to me I couldn’t scream. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I’ll sleep with you and—”

“I’m not going to rape you.” He looked insulted. “I’m not like your father. I don’t have to force myself on women.”

My temper reared but I held it in. Shut up for Ally. Do it for Ally.

He motioned to the dresser. “Put on your pajamas.”

I took out one of Evan’s T-shirts — one he knows I hate — and a pair of his boxers, which I never wear, hoping he would notice these details after I was dead. I put them on.

“Now we’re going to get some paper for your suicide note.”

After I found a pen and a pad of paper in my office, we headed downstairs. Once we were in the kitchen, he gestured to a half-empty bottle of Shiraz on the counter.

“Take that and sit at the table.”

I sat and stared at him.

“Drink some straight from the bottle.”

I took a swill.

He said, “Again.”

I did it, gagging on the last mouthful. Some spilled on my T-shirt. I thought about the lethal concoction already spreading through my veins, wondered how long it would take to stop my heart. Billy looked around the kitchen and back to me, assessing the scene again.

“Good. Now start writing. When the pills kick in you’re going to go lie on the couch.”

“Ally, she’ll find me in the morning and—”

“I’ll stop by first thing and find your body before she wakes up. And I’ll make sure she’s out of the house when the police show up.”

“Promise you won’t let her see me.”

“Sure.”

When I picked up the pen my hand was shaking violently. I had to think of something that would stall him so I could come up with a plan. But even if I could get to the alarm — then what?

“Write the letter, Sara.”

It wasn’t hard to write a sad good-bye letter. I told them how much I loved them, how sorry I was, how much I was going to miss them, but this was the only thing I could do. I cried the whole time I was writing. I wanted to stab Billy in the eye with the pen, but you couldn’t stab a man with anything when he was pointing a gun at you. Ally would be okay. Evan would take care of her. She’d grow up hating me, thinking I’d abandoned her. But at least she’d get to grow up.

When I was done Billy said, “Now we wait.”

Fear tight in my throat, I said, “You’re never going to get away with this.”

“No one will ever suspect me — and you know it.”

The phone rang and we both jumped. I looked upstairs, praying Ally didn’t wake.

“Let’s hope she’s a deep sleeper,” Billy said as it rang for the second time. She is once she gets going, but she hadn’t been asleep for long. I held my breath as I waited for her to call out for me. Thankfully she was silent and the phone didn’t ring again — it must have gone to voice mail. I remember Melanie’s number was on the call display when I first got home. Thinking she’d called to tell me off, I’d ignored it, but now I wished I could call her and tell her I was sorry a million times over. My chest heaved with the effort to hold in panicky sobs.

It had been at least fifteen minutes since I’d taken the pills. I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my face now. I was going to die and I didn’t get to kiss my daughter. I’d barely hugged Evan good-bye. We never got a chance to be married. Stop it, Sara. Calm down so you can think of a way out of this. If I kept talking, I might be able to stay alert enough to at least buy myself some time to come up with a plan.

“They might not suspect you right away, but they’re not going to believe I killed myself. My family, Evan, my therapist, everyone knows I wouldn’t do this to Ally — and I’m getting married. I was just talking to one of my sisters about my bachelorette party. Why would I—” “There’s a suicide note in your handwriting. They’ll believe it.” But something flickered in his eyes.

“My phone records show we talked tonight — you were the last person to see me alive. Your fingerprints are all over the dishes.”

“I came over to talk to you because you were upset.” He shrugged. “I didn’t realize you were suicidal.”

“But you’re a trained professional, you should’ve known. There’ll be an investigation, Billy.”

“I’ll deal with it. This will work.”

He was too calm. Nothing was shaking him. Panic came crashing back in on me, paralyzing my every thought except that time was running out. I was going to die.

I stared at Billy. Everything started to feel distant and slow, like I was moving underwater. I heard a roaring in my ears and wondered if I was going to pass out. Then Billy shifted his stance and my eyes landed on his tattoos.

Weakness stems from preparing against attack. Strength stems from obliging the enemy to prepare against an attack.

That was it. I’d found my strategy. I had to go on the attack. The fear left my body as my mind cleared.