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  She shakes her head but refuses to make eye contact.

  “What did he do?” I make a tight fist, bracing myself for impact.

  I should have fought for her. I should've stopped the wedding.

  Have I just stood by as this monster attacked her?

  “He… He didn't really do anything,” Aurora says quietly.

  She walks away from me and sits down on the edge of the bed. Burying her fingers into the comforter, she finally looks up at me. Her lipstick is smeared and there are track marks of mascara rounding the apple of her cheeks.

  “Tell me everything,” I insist. “Don't leave anything out.”

  “Only if you promise to not hurt him,” she says after a long pause.

  This time both of my hands fold into fists. She glances down and sees the whites of my knuckles. Shaking her head, she glances up at me.

  “No,” she says sternly. “Absolutely not.”

  “What?” I ask, forcing my fingers to relax.

  “You're not going to attack him,” she says.

  “I can't make any promises. Tell me what happened.”

  “I won't tell you a thing until you make me a promise. I need your help and fighting is not going to solve this problem. It's gonna make you feel better but it's not going to get to the bottom of every terrible thing that is going on.”

  She's right, of course, she's right. I take a deep breath and sit down. I turn toward her and take her hand in mine.

  “Okay,” I say with resignation in my voice. “I promise I won't do anything but please, tell me what happened.”

  As Aurora goes into her story, I let out a small sigh of relief when I learn that Franklin didn't force himself on her. But then she mentions that he had slapped her and rage boils up within me.

  “I can handle Franklin,” she says calmly. “At least for now. He doesn't seem that interested in me, which is a good thing.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly, unsure as to where she is headed with this.

  “I need your help with something else. I saw this girl running out of our apartment. She was crying and really distressed. I saw Franklin talking to her at the party we hosted. I tried to get her to tell me what happened but she was too afraid to say a word. Maybe she thought that I would get upset because I'm his wife. Who knows?”

  Aurora pulls out her cell phone and scrolls through her photos.

  “I took this picture of her,” she says, showing me the screen. “Just as she was leaving but luckily, I got a little bit of her face. I don't know if it's enough but is there any way that one of your investigators could find out who she really is? Maybe even talk to her? She's not in trouble. I'm just worried that…”

  “What?” I push her.

  “I heard something at the party,” she says quietly.

  The expression on her face turns from upset to serious.

  “I heard these two people talking about how Franklin is into underage girls. This girl,” she says, pointing to the screen, “she didn't look very old and I don't know what happened but I suspect that whatever he did, it wasn't consensual.”

  “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, holy fucking shit.”

  We sit quietly for a while as I try to process what she has just said. I knew that Franklin was fucked up but that's really fucked up.

  Suddenly, Aurora starts to cry again. I take her in my arms and she buries her face in my chest.

  “I just feel so guilty,” she mumbles in between sobs.

  “Why? What did you do?”

  She shakes her head and refuses to answer. Her whole body begins to shake. When she calms down for a little bit, I raise her head up to mine and look deep into her eyes.

  “You did nothing wrong,” I say, wiping her tears.

  “I just keep thinking that maybe this is my fault.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Maybe if I just let him have me. Maybe if I hadn't resisted him and… maybe he wouldn’t be doing this.”

  “No, you're wrong. If he's into little girls, then there's nothing that you could’ve given him to change that.”

  It makes me sick to my stomach to even think about this.

  Aurora doesn't believe me. She shakes her head, averting her eyes.

  “He would do this regardless,” I say. “You have to believe me. If he's into that, then no matter what you would have done it wouldn’t have been enough.”

  She gives me a slight nod and buries her face in my shoulder. I pull her close to me and kiss the top of her head. When she looks up at me, I kiss her cheek.

  Suddenly, something has changed. This moment of tenderness morphs into something else. I look down at her luscious lips and watch them part slightly.

  I glance up into her eyes to make sure that it's okay. She gives me a slight nod and I press my lips onto hers. Our mouths open and everything outside becomes a blur.

  I run my fingers over her neck and down her spine. I hear her exhale quietly as we kiss.

  “Is this okay?” I whisper.

  “Yes,” she mumbles.

  I kiss her harder. Our tongues find each other's and she presses her body against mine. I feel the softness of her breasts and the intensity of her grasp as she buries her fingers in my hair.

  But then she pulls away.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head.

  “What's wrong?” I ask.

  “I don't know but it feels wrong. I'm married.”

  That statement pushes all the air out of my lungs. It feels as if I have been punched in the gut.

  “I'm sorry,” she says, draping her arm around me. “I know that this is so…complicated.”

  “No,” I say. “It's not complicated. It's stupid.”

  She narrows her eyes and stares at me. I glare back.

  “You're not married. I mean, perhaps you're married on paper but we both know that it means nothing. He's forcing you to do this to get what he wants and you're going along with it to get what you want.”

  Aurora doesn't respond. Instead, she pulls her hands away from me and places them on her lap.

  “You don’t have to be so cruel,” she says.

  “You don't have a real marriage and you know it,” I continue. “I'm here for you. I want to help you. I don't want to pretend like we don't have anything between us. Those sparks that you feel in the pit of your stomach are not something you can deny.”

  She doesn't say anything. I'm tempted to go on but I force myself to stop. She has been through a lot and another fight is the last thing she needs.

  But I'm angry.

  I'm fuming. Just not at her.

  I'm pissed at Franklin for making her feel like she is doing something wrong.

  I get up and walk over to the window. There isn't much to look at but the building across the street and the parking lot below. Looking up, I search for the sun through a blanket of low-hanging clouds.

  “I will help you get to the bottom of this,” I say with my back toward her. “You don't have to worry about that.”

  “I'm not,” she says and I suddenly realize that she is standing right behind me.

  She puts her arms around my waist and squeezes me tightly.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” Aurora whispers.

  “It's okay, it doesn't matter.”

  “No, it does. I love you, Henry. You were the person that I was thinking of when I was walking down the aisle.”

  I turn around to face her and furrow my brows.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “When I picked out my wedding dress, I imagined that I would be wearing it to marry you. When I walked down the aisle, I transported myself to another world, one where we could be together. My wedding night? I wished more than anything that it was with you.”

  I pull her closer to me to give her a hug but she puts her hand on my chest and looks up instead. Standing up on her tiptoes, she presses her lips to mine.

  Our tongues find each other's and I l
ose myself in her. She presses her fingers into my back as I bury my hands in her hair.

  She tilts her head back and I run my lips down her neck and bury my face in her bosom.

  Her breasts move up and down with each breath as I cradle them in my hands. Her fingers make their way toward my stomach, pausing briefly at my belt buckle but not letting it stand in her way.

  After undoing it, she pulls out my shirt and unbuttons it. I flex my stomach and watch her eyes light up at my protruding six-pack.

  She runs her fingers slowly over each muscle, licking her lips in anticipation. I like the way that she looks at me.

  What I like more is looking at her.

  I lead her to the bed and push her down. I climb on top of her and she pulls me closer. Our lips touch again as she helps me out of my shirt.

  I slide my hand underneath hers and push my way up past the lace covering her breasts. She lifts herself up a little so that I can unclasp her bra and I don't wait for her to take it off before I take her into my mouth. Her nipples are hard and aroused and her moans make my dick as hard as a rock.

  When I make my way to the other one, my phone goes off.

  “Just ignore it,” I say but her body stops moving.

  I glance up and see that she is looking at the screen.

  “It’s your mom,” she says, swallowing hard.

  “What time is it?” I ask, searching for the alarm clock near the nightstand.

  “Shit,” I say, pulling up and answering the phone. “I'm sorry I'm running a little late, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I'm so, so sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I completely forgot that she had an appointment in the city today and I said that I’d be there with her.”

  I button my shirt and pull up my pants.

  “It's okay,” Aurora says, adjusting her bra.

  We kiss again but she pulls away and tells me to hurry.

  “Send me the picture of that girl,” I say when I open the door. “I’ll try to find out who she is.”

  8

  Henry

  I can’t get Aurora out of my head for two days. Every time that I close my eyes, I kiss her and I run my fingers up and down her soft skin and I lose myself in her luscious lips.

  This afternoon is no different. I'm back home in Montauk and my mother is having a really good day. She's alert and up and about, with newfound energy. Kathryn Solinski, the nurse, has been going far and beyond her normal duties by doing the cleaning, the laundry, and even some grocery shopping.

  When my mom was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and she was buried under all of those bills, she entered a dark period. It's as if there was a cloud hanging over her, infecting every thought and action but with Kathryn's help, and her companionship, she finally started to have something to look forward to. She started to enjoy the little things in life and I saw how much of a difference that has made.

  I haven't told her much about what's going on with Aurora but she knows that I miss her. She also knows that she's married.

  While my mother was enthusiastic about me trying to get back together with her prior to her marriage, she has been less so afterward. She doesn't say much but she never asks about her and I can tell that she silently disagrees with the fact that I still see Aurora.

  Jackie, my old friend and an ex-police officer who now makes his living spying on married people to gather evidence for their divorces, comes over. My mother is in such high spirits that she actually makes us dinner.

  “You really don't have to, Mrs. Asher. Henry and I can just grab something from the fridge or get take-out later.”

  “Nonsense, I finally have a guest over and I am feeling great. I'm not going to pass up this opportunity to act like a hostess.”

  Jackie glances at me waiting for me to say something but I just shrug my shoulders. When my mother gets something in her head, it's hard to convince her otherwise.

  “So how are you feeling? Any news?”

  “Actually, I'm feeling good. I'm not as tired as I used to be. The chemotherapy is definitely taking a toll but I'm sort of used to it. I have to go get more tests done and then I will know more about whether it has spread.”

  “Well, you've been amazing through this experience,” Jackie says. “I'm really sorry that you're going through all this and I hope that it all turns out well.”

  She gives him a slight nod. We all know that the survival rate of pancreatic cancer patients is not the best, but hope is all I have and hope is all I can hold onto. I take a sip of water before my emotions get the better of me.

  My mom hasn't seen me cry once and for that I'm grateful. She has enough problems and she's being strong enough for me that I can't break down in front of her.

  I'm here to be her rock. I'm here to support her and to do anything that she needs me to do for her.

  When my mom and Kathryn disappear into the sitting room for some coffee and biscuits, Jackie and I clean up the dishes. We don't have a dishwasher so I wash as he dries and puts them away.

  “I got that image that you sent me,” Jackie says.

  “And?”

  “I did a reverse image search on it and it's not good.” He pauses for dramatic effect. I wait, annoyed.

  “Well, are you going to tell me?”

  “She’s still in high school.”

  My mouth drops open.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I found her pictures on Facebook from a few years ago when she was in middle school. Then I found her Instagram. She's definitely in high school. Tenth grade.”

  “Holy shit,” I whisper and shut off the water. I help him dry the rest of the silverware and put on another pot of coffee.

  “What now?” I ask.

  “I have no idea.”

  “But Aurora told me that she saw her working as a waitress at their party. She couldn’t have had that job if she was still in high school, right?”

  “There's more,” Jackie says, stirring some sugar into his cup.

  I watch the cream dissolve in the blackness at the bottom of his coffee cup and wait for him to continue. This time he's not pausing to create drama but simply gathering his strength.

  “I reached out to one of her friends. There was a photo where a girl commented saying that she will always be there for her no matter what. It made it seem like she knew something or something may have happened. The dates lined up so I direct messaged her. I told her that I was a private investigator and I used to be a police officer and that she had nothing to worry about but I needed to talk to her about something very important. We video chatted and I recorded our conversation.

  “Do you want to see it?”

  I nod and hold my breath as he opens the recording on his phone.

  The girl who appears on the screen doesn't look like she is a day over fourteen. She's skinny and small and her eyes look terrified.

  Luckily, she is wise enough to ask Jackie for his identification and even ask for his private investigator license number, refusing to continue the conversation until she looks it up online. After she confirms his identity, she relaxes a little bit and lets out a sigh of relief. She says that she's not comfortable meeting but she will tell him what she knows.

  “Tell me everything,” Jackie says from behind the camera.

  The girl adjusts herself in her seat, avoiding eye contact and looking out somewhere in the distance.

  Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, “Taylor would kill me for telling you any of this but I think someone has to so that it doesn't happen again.”

  “What happened to her?” Jackie asks.

  “There's this really popular girl in school, Tamara, who always has really expensive shoes and jewelry and purses. One day, Taylor was talking to her in study hall and she told her that she does these massages for this guy who lives in this mansion. She made it sound like all she does is go to his house and gives him a massage. I thought that it could never be just that but Taylor is really innocent and
a little bit stupid.”

  She takes a deep breath.

  “Tamara said that he just likes looking at high school girls and having them massage him and he would pay them $200 per hour for doing this. No sex, no anything.”

  “So, that's what she did?” Jackie asks.

  “Yeah. Tamara told her that she first had to go to the house and work as a waitress but she would get paid for that also. That would pay $100 an hour plus whatever tips anyone gave her. That was the first level. If she got past that, then she would be invited back to do a massage.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Then Tamara gave her the address and told her about everything that was going to happen and how it had absolutely no sex and how he wouldn't even touch her. She really needed the money. She would never have done this otherwise. Her parents are going through a divorce and her stepdad is really abusive and he's threatening to take her little brother away and her mom can't afford a lawyer. That's why she did this. It wasn't to get a fancy purse or anything like that.”

  “Of course not,” Jackie says. “Even if she did just want a purse, it would not make what Franklin did any less wrong.”

  “I know,” the girl says. “I'm just trying to explain that Taylor is not like that.”

  “What happened then?” Jackie asks.

  “I don't know most of the details because she wouldn't stop crying but apparently, he was lying naked on the massage table and he told her to get naked. He wouldn't take no for an answer and at one point he even yelled at her. That's when she got really scared and took off her clothes. He touched her. He told her to go down on him and then she massaged him. After that, he touched himself and she had to watch.”

  Anger starts to boil up within me. I stare at my fist ready to punch something or someone.

  “After he handed her the money,” the girl continues, “he gave her an extra hundred dollars, and she was so distraught that she freaked out when she ran into his wife in the elevator. His wife kept asking her what was going on but Taylor was freaking out because she didn’t want her to think that they were having an affair.”

  “That's pretty much it,” Jackie says, turning off his phone.