I threw my arms around him, knocking him over, laughing as I lay sprawled on top of him, saying, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” over and over again. Someone’s wine spilled and the sleeve of my shirt was cold and wet against my skin, but in that moment, all I felt was pure happiness bubbling up from my soul.
It was late September and since I had my heart set on a fall wedding, we started making plans for the following October. Amir dove into the planning with me, offering his opinion on invitations, flowers, and menu options. We confirmed the date. From then on, October fourteenth was mentioned in every conversation and as we moved through the days, the weeks, the months, our lives twined ever closer, like a rope, the separate strands so tightly woven together they were effectively one.
Amir’s enthusiasm dulled some of the doubts I had about whether or not I was worth marrying. In all the hubbub, I had begun to question if I was really the right person for him. If I could ever love him with the same kind of steadiness and unreserved tenderness with which he loved me. A shadow of self-doubt trailed me on my worst days. We were happy, both of us, but we also had some not-so-great moments. We argued. Amir was always kind, but even that kindness sometimes grated on me. Especially when I found myself incapable of returning it.
In the spring, he moved in with me because his lease was up and we were about to get married and it made sense. My house quickly filled with his mismatched furniture and his books and his shoes. He once referred to the spare bedroom as the future nursery and as soon as he said it, my heart jerked painfully. I became aware, again, of the shadow that haunted my heart and I wrestled with the idea that agreeing to marry Amir was unfair to him.
IN SPITE OF ALL MY misgivings, I don’t think I could have predicted how things ended up turning out for the two of us. Just like I could never have anticipated the mess I’m in now. The case re-opening. Amir back in Dunford. There is so much being thrown at me that even without this sinus cold clouding my thoughts and making my limbs heavy, I doubt I can safely navigate to the other side of it all.
I feel like I’m underwater. I’m not kicking for the surface though — I’m not kicking for anything. Just sinking. Slowly and deliberately.
I think back to my most recent phone call with Jason and the way he paused before saying he loved me. How is it that the space of a second can swallow so much certainty?
CHAPTER SEVEN
•
“RICHARD WENT ALL OUT FOR this party,” Mom was saying. “He told me he rented one of those jumpy castles and I think he said he hired a clown!”
“Well, it’s not every day your little girl turns six,” Amir said, from behind the wheel. I was sitting in the back seat of my own car, so Mom could have the front. Amir often drove my car, because I preferred to be a passenger.
It was August, only two months before our wedding, and we were headed to Toronto for Leah’s birthday party. Everyone was in a good mood, except for me. But since Mom and Amir were so busy chatting with each other, my sullen mood went unnoticed.
Something about Leah turning six was wreaking havoc with my emotions. Okay, not just something — it was the fact that Amy Nessor was six years old the last time I saw her. I knew it was a stupid thing to get stuck on, but I couldn’t shake my feelings of unease. Plus, all the extravagance Mom was describing seemed so unnecessary. A jumpy castle and a clown? Come on.
At the actual party, I sat in the backyard, which was overflowing with streamers and balloons, and watched Leah run around excitedly while my brother smiled and made small-talk with all the guests. The clown Mom had been so excited about was creepy. He had a giant painted-on smile and was walking around making balloon animals for everyone whether they wanted one or not. Leah skipped past me toward the inflated jumpy castle, her pigtails swinging, and my breath caught. She could just as easily have been Amy Nessor in that instant. The vision was so real that my heart stammered in panic and my hands turned cold and clammy. Leah’s laughter, as she disappeared inside the castle, echoed around me while the backyard seemed to tilt, first one way, then the other.
I turned my head and saw Amir talking to my brother, laughing at something he was saying. The clown stepped in front of me.
“And what would you like, ma’am? A poodle? Maybe a hat?”
I waved him away distractedly. Amir put his hand on Ricky’s shoulder and leaned toward him to say something. The sounds of the party receded until all I could hear was a loud humming that grew louder and louder and I had to close my eyes to keep my head from exploding. Amir wanted us to have a baby. Probably more than one. I forced my eyes open and accepted the reality that I’d been ignoring for years. I stood up unsteadily and made my way inside where I threw up repeatedly in the upstairs bathroom.
The humming in my ears subsided and sounds drifted up to me from the backyard. Children’s laughter. A little girl’s voice, sweet and clear, chanting the same skipping rhyme from my childhood about bluebells and cockle shells. It must have been Leah or one of her friends. It didn’t matter. That little sing-song voice drilled into my skull. I leaned my head against the edge of the toilet, defeated.
Eventually Amir came looking
