I wasn’t angry.
I wasn’t crying.
I was simply finished.
Twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the front door.
It was nearly nine.
Mark frowned.
“Who would come here this late?”
I walked to the door.
When I opened it, I stopped breathing for a moment.
David Harrison stood on our porch.
He was wearing a dark coat.
His expression was serious.
I had never seen him look that way before.
“Linda.”
“Mr. Harrison?”
“I’m sorry to come this late.”
Then he looked past me.
“I need to speak with you.”
Mark appeared behind me.
The color drained from his face.
“Sir?”
Mr. Harrison looked at him.
“Mark.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question about several things.”
The room became silent.
Mark glanced at his coworkers.
Then back at his boss.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
Mr. Harrison stepped inside.
“I think everyone should hear this.”
Mark swallowed.
Then Mr. Harrison looked at me.
“Linda, I need an answer tonight.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
He had called me earlier that morning.
I had agreed to help him.
I had also told him I was ready to stop protecting my husband from the consequences of his own decisions.
