raised his own glass and clinked it against Graham’s.
“Fuck it,” said Richard. “You better put it to good use.”
They both shot the rest of the whisky.
A notification appeared in Graham’s contact lens display. Richard Huntman was giving him access to a private folder.
Bingo.
10
THE WORLD CRUMBLED AROUND HUIAN. Horror and disbelief vied for dominance inside her, their shock-and-awe battle leaving her emotionally vacant. This simply couldn’t be.
“Sweetie, what are you talking about?” said Huian. She stepped toward Vera, trying to take her hand, but Vera shied away. Huian, doubly rebuffed, awkwardly clasped her own hands in front of her. “What are you saying?”
Vera was clearly trying to contain her own internal strife, and only partially succeeding. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But I just can’t do it anymore.” Her voice had steadied, but her slender hands were shaking. “I’m done. I’m just done.”
Huian looked around the room, trying to get a grip on a situation spinning wildly out of control. The vista outside the window was balmy and peaceful, at odds with this madness. The kitchen was spotless. Dishes sat in the drying rack. Colorful fruit was piled high in a handwoven basket. The central island where Vera had been standing wasn’t covered in farmers’ market produce as Huian had anticipated.
Instead, a ballpoint pen sat on top of a single page right in the middle of the smooth granite surface. Huian’s eyes scanned the words scrawled along the top, “Lovely, lovely Huian.” It ended there. The rest of the page was blank.
“I couldn’t finish it,” said Vera. “I just stood there forever, trying to figure out what to say. I was supposed to be gone by the time you got home. And then I saw the helicopter coming across the bay.” She let out a soft sob. “I knew it was you. It… transfixed me. It hurt too much to move.”
Huian felt unmoored. She wasn’t wracked with debilitating sadness. She was lost in a trackless wilderness. Earlier, she had been eager for Vera’s counsel. Then, she had been eager for her intimacy. Now what? It was simply too drastic a change of pace to take in all at once.
“Vera, I don’t understand,” she said. “Whatever you’re thinking, it doesn’t have to be this way. Just let me in. Tell me what’s going on.”
Vera cocked her head to the side, incredulity plain on her fine features. Then she shook her head. “This. This is exactly why, Huian.” She looked at her palms and then back up. “We’ve talked about our problems for ages and ages. We’ve been seeing Dr. Corvel for the past two and a half years. And now you’re asking why ?”
“Oh, come on.” The frustration was back in full force, confusion condensing into self-righteousness. Dr. Corvel’s stuffy, holier-than-thou attitude and his stuffier office. “Most couples see a therapist every once in a while. It’s normal. It’s what people do.”
“If this is normal, then I’m not interested in normal.” The skin around Vera’s eyes puckered up. “You’re brilliant, Huian. And I love you dearly. Nothing has changed about that. But you’re so… tangled up in your own head that you don’t see what’s happened to us. We’re a mess, my love. We’re a hot mess. And I’m tired of cleaning it all up.”
Huian tasted copper and realized she was biting her cheek. Sure, they disagreed on things occasionally. Heated debates sometimes ended with Vera in sulky retreat and Huian nursing the Pyrrhic intellectual victory. Huian was liable to forget birthdays and anniversaries. But Vera was far from blameless. She pissed off important guests with ill-considered political diatribes, and wore her bleeding heart on her sleeve in a way that made Huian privately question its authenticity.
But these things were petty. They were too insignificant to rate such a dramatic change of heart. The hairs on Huian’s neck stood on end as she considered another
Learning to Kill: Stories