“Suspended for what? What does that mean?” I asked.
He scoffed, looking down at the floor. “It’s stupid. It’ll blow over, but the partners just…they had to do it.”
“What do you mean, Mark? What happened?”
“I was…well, it’s this damn me too stuff, isn’t it? People think just talking to someone of the opposite sex warrants a lawsuit nowadays, don’t they? Everyone’s so uptight about things.” He brushed his foot along the floor as I let the words run over me, trying to decipher their meaning.
“What are you saying, Mark? Were you…I mean, is there a lawsuit against you?”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, nothing like that. Bill and Lonnie are going to take care of it. Just some stupid girl looking for a payout.”
“Who is she?” I demanded. “What is she accusing you of?” My blood ran cold as I waited for an answer.
“McKenna Logan,” he said. “One of the interns.”
I knew McKenna. At least, I’d heard him talk about her. She seemed to be one that was always helpful on his cases. What on earth could she have to gain by hurting him?
“What are you supposed to have done?” I asked, trying to get him to meet my eyes.
He shook his head with a scowl. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”
“Well, it’s serious enough that they’ve suspended you,” I argued. “Were you sleeping with her?” The mere thought sent my blood boiling.
He rolled his eyes. “God, no. Of course I wasn’t. I can’t believe you could ask me that.”
“What else am I supposed to think? You won’t tell me what she’s accusing you of!”
“That’s ’cause I don’t know! Bill and Lonnie aren’t even sure. She’s been talking to Leilani, the junior partner. They’re all supposed to be meeting to talk things through, but they had to suspend me in the meantime. They just said they know she’s made some comments to the other interns about me coming on to her—which I haven’t—and they’re trying to get to the bottom of it before it becomes something bigger than it needs to be. Like I said, it’s stupid. Not a big deal. They just figure with me out of the office, they can get her to open up about whatever she thinks I’ve supposedly done and then get her to confess it’s not true. Rather than embarrass her in front of me.”
“Why would she go and stir up something like this and risk her job?” I asked.
“Beats me,” he said. “Poor girl’s got nothing else to do, I guess. Probably has a little crush on me or something.”
“You’re sure that’s all this is?”
He nodded, kissing my cheek. “I’m positive. They’ll get it all sorted, and then I’ll be back to work in a few days.”
“But what about your clients?”
“I can still work from home, can’t I?” He winked. “No one has to even know this is going on except for the higher-ups at the firm, and they’ve all signed non-disclosures.”
“Lucky they have,” I said. “This is the kind of thing that could ruin your career.”
He shook his head, grabbing a danish from the plate on the counter and taking a bite. “Good thing I haven’t done anything, then, isn’t it? Besides, I know a pretty good lawyer if things get nasty.”
I followed him down the hall as he turned to walk away. “I don’t know how you can joke about this. It’s serious, Mark. This girl could—”
“The partners are handling it, Han, honest. I probably wouldn’t have even mentioned it to you if I didn’t have to work from home for these next few days.”
“It’s going to be okay, then? You’re sure?”
“Positive,” he said. “I don’t want you worrying about this, okay?”
“Mhm,” I said, blinking heavily as I tried to process all I’d learned.
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, then, come here,” he said, pulling me to him playfully and running his hand up my shirt. “Working from home just means we have time for a few extra breaks.”
Well, as you can probably guess, I did worry about it. By that evening, I knew all there was to know about McKenna Logan. Party girl who attended UCLA before coming back home after college to settle down and start her career.
Her social media accounts were flooded with public photos of her in tiny outfits, funneling beer, and making out with anything that had a functioning mouth. As I scrolled through her pages, learning more about her—like the fact that she thought we should do something about all the plastic waste, and that she would only ever dye her hair with henna again, obvi—I became more and more annoyed.
This girl was the kind of girl who gave the rest of us a bad name. The girl who cried wolf over something stupid, probably just in search of a payday. Student loans from UCLA couldn’t be cheap, and I couldn’t find anything that pointed to her coming from money of her own. I’d seen at least three pictures that contained nip slips, and I could count the outfits she wore a bra with on one hand. Who was she kidding? There was no way my husband would’ve needed to come on to her. If he’d been interested, it was obvi he wouldn’t have had to try too hard.
I hated her. I hated her as much as one human being could hate another. Though Mark swore things would work out, I couldn’t help but worry about if they didn’t. If he went to jail, or if we were sued for this. If he lost his job. Worse, if he lost his license.
He’d been petrified of what a DUI could do to him, but what could any form of sexual misconduct allegation do to him in this day and age? I knew how it worked. He’d be guilty before he even stepped foot in that courtroom.
Courtroom. As an avid rule follower, the thought sent chills down my spine. How had I gotten myself mixed up in a life like this? In a world where women are fighting to regain all the power, how could I ever hope to prove the man was right in this situation?
Each day that Mark wasn’t called back to work, I became more anxious, though I seemed to be the only one. I’m not sure if he was trying to remain calm for my benefit, or if he truly believed it would all be okay, but I never saw him break character. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought it was just another day for him.
When a week had gone by and he still wasn’t back to work, panic really began to set in. He assured me that everything was fine, but my gut knew better. It just didn’t feel right.
We continued going to our sessions with Doctor Fremont, who seemed optimistic about our progress. Mark was back going to meetings, he had reconnected with his sponsor, and with Doctor Fremont’s guidance, we’d begun to open a dialogue surrounding our difference of opinion about children.
At Mark’s request, we’d left the details about what was happening with McKenna out of our sessions. While I thought they might be helpful to discuss with someone else, Mark assured me it would only make things worse. There were too many confidentiality issues involved in bringing something like that into therapy, he said, and like the fool I was then, I believed him.
Doctor Fremont had encouraged us to look at every chance to spend time together as an opportunity. Because of Mark’s busy schedule, even mundane things like doing chores around the house and grocery shopping were supposed to be done together. Though Mark had been readily on board with each of our exercises from therapy, there was a day when I realized I was out of tampons and we needed milk, but Mark was in his office working.
It was the first time I’d shopped alone since our therapy started, and it felt oddly refreshing to have a moment alone. I’d been focusing so much on my time with Mark that I’d let myself forget about time without him.
I loved shopping throughout the week. It was something I’d never really gotten to do when I was working, and so since the decision to stay home was made, I’d discovered that grocery stores during the week felt like entirely different worlds than on the weekends.
It was much calmer, for one thing. I could browse through the aisles endlessly, checking Pinterest for recipes and reading the backs of shampoo bottles searchin
g for the perfect one without anyone rushing me.
After I’d perused to my heart’s content, spending a few extra minutes reading about which celebrities had sported baby bumps at the latest red carpet event, I went through the checkout and collected my things. I’d gotten a few extra things than planned, but dinners for the next week were set and I’d found a new mascara I’d been dying to try.
As I was loading the bags into my car, I tucked the receipt into the side of my purse and placed it into the front seat.
“Hannah?”
I spun around to find the source of the voice. I recognized the woman in front of me instantly, though she looked nothing like I expected her to. McKenna Logan was dressed in a navy hoodie and gray sweatpants, her hair was in a wild ponytail, and her usually made up face was bare and pale. The dark bags under her eyes spoke of many nights not sleeping.
“McKenna?” I asked, my tone full of venom. “What do you want?” How dare she come up to me in public? How dare she approach me? I searched her eyes for anger or vengeance, but I saw only pain. Her green eyes began to glisten as she stared at me.
“H-how are you?”
“How am I? Well, you’ve got a lot of nerve asking that considering what you’re doing to my family.” I shook my head. “You should really just go.”
“What I’m doing to your family—” She stopped, then nodded. “You’ve stayed with him.”
“Stayed with my husband? Of course I have.”
“How could you? How could you stay with him after what he’s—” Her chin began to quiver and she placed her palm over it, stopping mid-sentence. Her eyes blinked rapidly as if she were going to pass out.
“After what, McKenna? What has he done?” I tried to keep my tone firm in defense of my husband, but without answers, I was still searching for the truth of what he was being accused of.
She stared at me with a furrowed brow and confused expression. “He hasn’t told you?”
Suddenly, I felt like a child who’d been kept out of something very important. I was the only one out of this particular loop. “He told me some. Not all.”
“Hannah, he…” More tears filled her eyes. I wanted so badly to hate her, to see through the charade I was sure she was putting on, but I couldn’t. As I stared at her, I saw only truth and pain on her face. What had my husband done to cause her so much agony? “He raped me.”
I stepped back, taking in a sharp breath. “No.”
She stepped forward, reaching for my arm. “I’m so sorry, I just—”
“No,” I said again, opening my door with shaking hands. No. No. No. No. No.
“Please just hear me out,” she begged, but I climbed in the car without another word. I couldn’t speak to her. Not about that. Not about Mark doing that.
I shut the door, unable to meet her eyes. It wasn’t possible. Mark was happily married. He had no need to seek out other women anymore, certainly not by force. Did he have any idea what he was being accused of? And for what? What was she hoping to gain? A higher position? I doubted it, based on the fact that she was grocery shopping in sweats on a Wednesday afternoon. Money? That was the most likely answer. But why my husband? Why not one of the partners? Wouldn’t they be the obvious target?
I drove home with tears filling my eyes as so many questions swam through my head. None of it made any sense, yet I wanted more than anything to believe my husband. I wanted him to be telling the truth. I wanted McKenna to be the liar in this story, for it to be that easy, but somehow I knew it wasn’t. I saw the truth of her words in her eyes. She was either a fantastic actress, or my husband was lying to me. But rape? Why? Why now? Wasn’t he happy with me? Was I not enough? The thought made me sick to my stomach.
His words echoed in my head as I pulled in the drive. “Alcohol has made me do a lot of horrible things.” I shook my head, forcing the thought away, but it was quickly replaced by a vision of his hands around my wrists the night we’d drank together. But…he wasn’t forcing me, was he? I mean, he was insistent, yes, but it wasn’t like I’d outright said no. I was half out of it. Besides that, he was my husband. It wasn’t like he had to ask true permission anymore.
When I got in the house, Mark was on the couch watching a basketball game. I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes as I stalked past him and into the kitchen with my bags.
“You didn’t tell me you were leaving this morning,” he called after me.
“I didn’t know I had to.”
I heard the television mute and his weight adjusting on the leather couch. “You don’t have to, but I thought we might go together like last time.”
I nodded, not looking his way. “Well, I just needed a few things.”
“You were gone a while. Is everything okay?” he asked, leaning against the countertop and staring at me.
I looked up at him with a fake smile but quickly let it disappear. “I ran into McKenna at the store.”
The color drained from his face in an instant. “What did she say to you? Did you talk to her?”
“She told me that you’re being accused of raping her, Mark,” I said. “Is that true?”
He scowled, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “Of course not. No! She’s…she’s lying, Hannah. To get you mad at me. To tear us apart.”
“Why?” I asked, finally stopping my hurried unloading of the bags. “Why would she do that?”
“To…to…I don’t know! I don’t know how her sick mind works.”
I put one finger in the air. “I’m going to ask you this one time, Mark, and I swear to God, if you lie to me…” I took a deep breath. “Did you rape McKenna Logan?”
“Of course not,” he said, his nostrils flaring with anger. “No.”
“Have you ever raped anyone?”
“No!” he insisted, his face full of shock. “How can you ask me that? You know me. You know what I’m capable of.”
“Then why is she lying? Were you having an affair with her?”
“No!” he screamed again, pounding his fist onto the counter. “You can’t be serious. You know I wouldn’t do that. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“You told me that alcohol has made you do bad things…maybe you’d been drinking and lost control—”
“No!” he bellowed, stepping toward me so he was towering over me. I stood my ground, allowing him to get so close our noses were almost touching. “If you believe I’m capable of that, then just leave, Hannah. Just…just fucking go!” He waved his hand toward the door. I hadn’t planned to leave, but I felt my hand tighten over the keys in my jacket pocket. Without warning, I darted toward the door.
He grabbed hold of my hair before I’d even made it out of the kitchen, jerking me backward. I turned around, my palm on my scalp to ease the pain as I stared at him.
“What the hell?” I demanded. It was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on me in that way. It wasn’t like he’d hit me, but I couldn’t even justify his actions by saying that he’d been drinking. My husband was stone cold sober, and he’d grabbed my hair like I was his property.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” His expression was panicked. “I don’t know what—I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “I just couldn’t let you go.”
“You’re the one who told me to leave,” I spat. “I can’t believe you just did that.” I pulled my hand away from my scalp to check for blood, though it felt dramatic even as I did it. My skin pulsed with pain, my head and face burning.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Can you just…can you go, please? I need a minute.” I couldn’t stand to look at him. I was brimming with fury, and the last thing I wanted to do was to keep talking to him.
“Please don’t do this—”
“Just go, Mark.”
“Whatever,” he said, stomping from the room. “Fuck this, man.” I heard his keys rattle and the front door slam before I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Her
Isn’t it unfair that birds can choose to fly away from their surroundings at any given minute? That they can just…open their wings and fly away when they’re in danger. Do you think birds pity us? We’re so trapped and limited by our inability to leave on a whim. I think back to that line in Forrest Gump, about being a bird and flying away all the time, but especially when I start reliving that night.
If I could go back, I would’ve flown away. Wings or plane, it wouldn’t have mattered. If I’d just flown away, maybe no one would be dead.
I paced through my house, trying desperately to decide what to do. I needed to find out the truth, and I cursed myself for driving away before McKenna could tell me. I wasn’t ready to hear it then, perhaps, but I needed to now. I needed to know the truth, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to.
I needed to find a way to contact McKenna, but how? I had no idea where she would be, except that I suspected she wouldn’t be working. On a hunch, I walked into Mark’s home office. I sat down in his office chair and opened a top drawer. If only it were as simple as flipping through a Rolodex. Technology had helped us in so many ways, but hurt us in others. Suffice it to say, the top drawer contained only a few random pens and some sticky notes.
I gave the second drawer a tug and gasped. Liquor bottles, some empty and some full, filled the drawer. How long had he been hiding them from me? How long had I been in the dark about the secrets lying in my own house? Maybe he’d never been sober at all. Maybe he’d always been nothing but a liar.
I picked up two bottles, launching them at the wall with a growl. I watched as the green glass shattered and rained to the floor. I’d have to clean it up, but at least for the moment, it felt good to see them broken.
I opened his laptop next, entering the password he put on everything he used, and searching through his contacts. McKenna wasn’t in there. Next, I checked his email and searched for her name. I found an email from her and opened it.
I Said Yes Page 11
