Chapter 4 - GEMMA STAYSAfter police left, I expected Gemma to call a rideshare.
Instead, she sat at my kitchen island.
Mascara smudged.
Wine replaced with water.
“I didn’t know he would hit you.”
I looked at her.
“Did you know he had before?”
Her silence gave me an answer I did not want.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing like tonight.”
“What does that mean?”
She rubbed her forehead.
“Bonnie told me you and Andrew had gotten physical once.”
I laughed.
“Gotten physical?”
“She said you threw something and Andrew restrained you.”
I remembered.
A ceramic bowl.
Four months earlier.
I threw it into the sink after Andrew told me I was “financially abusive” because I refused to pay Mason’s credit-card debt.
It broke.
Andrew grabbed both my wrists.
Held me against the counter.
I told him to let go.
He did after maybe ten seconds.
I had minimized it.
So had he.
So had Bonnie.
Now it had become a family story in which I was violent and he restrained me.
“Did Bonnie tell you why tonight’s dinner was happening?”
Gemma looked down.
“She said you were finally going to formalize family support.”
“What does formalize mean?”
“Monthly amount.”
“Fifteen thousand?”
“I didn’t know the number.”
“Did you expect money?”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
At least she said it.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Gemma.”
“Maybe two thousand.”
“Every month?”
She whispered:
“Yes.”
I sat across from her.
“What did Bonnie tell you I had agreed to?”
“That you and Andrew had discussed it.”
“We didn’t.”
Gemma closed her eyes.
May you like
“Then I’m sorry.”
I was too tired to know whether I believed her.
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