Chapter 24 - DID HE LOVE ME?I saw Jason one final time before sentencing.
Against Miriam’s advice.
Against Helen’s preference.
With counsel.
Security.
Glass between us.
No physical contact.
He looked older.
Not dramatically.
Just less polished.
He sat.
I sat.
For thirty seconds neither spoke.
Then:
“You look well.”
I almost laughed.
“You tried to prevent that.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
No defense.
“Why did you ask me to close my eyes?”
His face tightened.
I had wondered more than anything.
Why tenderness?
Why kiss my hand?
Why “I love you”?
Why make betrayal intimate?
He took a long time.
“Because I was a coward.”
“That is broad.”
“I wanted the last version of me you saw to be the one you loved.”
My breath caught.
He continued.
“I didn’t want you afraid of me before.”
“So you wanted me happy.”
“Yes.”
“While you killed me.”
He flinched.
“Yes.”
There are answers so monstrous they become honest.
“Did you love me?”
He looked directly at me.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
I believed him.
That surprised me.
He continued.
“I know I don’t deserve that word.”
“Words are not rewards.”
He nodded.
“I loved you.”
“And still pushed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Tears appeared.
“Because in that moment I wanted the problem solved more than I wanted to be the man you thought I was.”
There.
Not:
I stopped loving you.
Not:
I was possessed.
Choice.
“What problem?”
“My debt. Graham. Halcyon. Your vote. The lies.”
He stopped.
“Myself.”
I looked at him.
“Do not make yourself poetic.”
He almost smiled.
“You always hated that.”
“Yes.”
“I thought if it was done, everything would become quiet.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“You looked down at me.”
His face changed.
“You remember?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were gone.”
“Were you relieved?”
He cried.
“Yes.”
That answer mattered more than remorse afterward.
“And sad?”
“Yes.”
Both.
“Would you have done it if there were no ten million?”
He thought.
“I don’t know.”
“Good.”
No invention.
“Would you have done it if I agreed to restructuring?”
Long pause.
“No.”
I believed that too.
My no triggered escalation.
Again, not blame.
Evidence of entitlement.
“What if you had told me everything?”
“I thought you’d leave.”
“I might have.”
“I know.”
“You preferred me dead to free to leave.”
He covered his face.
“Yes.”
There.
The core.
I sat back.
For months I had wanted a reason large enough to match the act.
There wasn’t one.
There was only a man who could not tolerate consequences of honesty.
I removed my wedding ring from my purse.
Not my finger.
I had stopped wearing it after rescue.
I held it up.
“You gave me this.”
“Yes.”
“Miriam put a tracker in it.”
A broken laugh escaped him.
“I heard.”
“Your gift saved me because my daughter violated my privacy.”
Jason looked at me.
“That sounds like your family.”
I laughed.
Unexpectedly.
So did he.
For one second we were us.
That hurt.
Then it passed.
“I’m not giving this back.”
“Why?”
“It belongs to my evidence.”
He nodded.
Practical.
Unromantic.
Correct.
I stood.
Jason said:
“Eleanor.”
I stopped.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Will that ever matter?”
I thought.
“Maybe to the person you become.”
His eyes filled.
“Not to me?”
“No.”
He closed them.
I watched.
Then said:
“Open your eyes.”
He did.
I wanted that.
Not revenge.
Symmetry.
He would see me leave.
Alive.
May you like
By my choice.
I walked out.
