"NO! Of course not."

Felicity was a Taurus, through and through, and she manifested the stereotypical characteristics of the star sign often. However, out of all those idiosyncrasies, the aptly attributed bull-headedness was her most omnipresent. She had out-stubborned me on more than one occasion, and I truly feared she would do everything in her power to accomplish that now.

However, as pragmatic and obstinate as she could be, I wasn't going to allow her to win. I had emotion on my side, and I was going to appeal to it in every sense, no matter what. I knew this wasn't something she truly desired; I just had to get her to admit it.

"Then give me a reason."

"I don't have to."

"Yes, you do."

"Rowan..."

"Felicity..."

"Don't push me on this, then. Just take my word for it."

"Not happening."

"I'm not going to talk about it."

"Yes, you are."

"d.a.m.n your eyes, Rowan Gant!"

"Don't d.a.m.n something you don't even have the guts to look at," I returned harshly.

"Don't do this, Rowan."

"After what you just asked me to do? Don't ask me for favors. You don't deserve any."

I hated playing the bad guy. I hated pulling her strings by offering up such a callous remark. And, I hated the cruelty of what I might be forced to say if she didn't give in soon. But, more than any of those things, I hated that she had put me in this position as she was trying to stonewall her way through it. So, I gave in and played the wild card. I would push her as hard as my churning stomach would let me and hope that it would be enough.

Fortunately, her own emotional resistance was down to nil, just like mine, and that last verbal shove was all it took.

"d.a.m.nu ort! It's for you!" she suddenly shrieked, finally looking up as she slammed the heels of her fists hard enough against the table to make it shudder. "All right? It's for you!"

I had only a brief moment to catch the anguish on my wife's face. Almost immediately following the loud report of her hands against the pressboard, I heard the dull metallic clunk of a deadbolt being thrown. Less than a second later the door swung open. Embarra.s.sment added itself to Felicity's pained features and she turned away.

I twisted my own head toward the new sound just as the corrections officer who had been watching us filled the opening. She was alert, eyes fixed on my wife, with one hand riding on a holstered container of pepper spray at her hip.

"I think we might need to cut this visit short," she announced.

"No. Everything's fine," I told her.

"It didn't look fine to me."

"Really, it is," I replied. "Just a little emotional is all."

"That's exactly the problem, sir."

"Look, it's no big deal. And, I really need to finish talking to my wife."

She'd glanced over to me a few times, but still kept a close watch on Felicity. "How about it, O'Brien? Are we going to have any problems?"

Felicity gave her head a shake without looking toward her.

"Words, O'Brien," the officer pressed. "I need to hear you say it."

"No," Felicity muttered just loud enough to be heard. "No problems."

The corrections officer waited a moment then glanced toward me. "Okay, time's almost up anyway."

"Fifteen minutes, okay?" I asked.

"Five," she replied.

"Ten?" I bargained.

"Five," she repeated.

"Then go away," I remarked as calmly as I could, which wasn't very. "You're using up my time."

She didn't perpetuate the argument. She simply swung the door shut and threw the lock.

I knew I wasn't endearing myself to the establishment, but that was a sacrifice I was going to have to live with because if it meant saving my wife, it was more than worth it.

I turned back to Felicity and discovered that she'd again focused her stare on the surface of the table.

"Honey, look at me," I urged.

It seemed that her stubbornness had fled for the time being, and she slowly lifted her gaze back up to mine. I studied her face quietly and felt my heart rend at the very sight. What I hadn't noticed in that split second before the corrections officer interrupted was that her cheeks were wet and her already bloodshot eyes were starting to swell even more. As was her way, the reason she had been keeping her face hidden was that she'd been silently crying this entire time. I should have known, and I mutely cursed myself for not realizing it sooner.

I gave her a moment to gather herself then lowered my frame back into the chair and stared across the table at her. She was still avoiding direct eye contact, but I wasn't going to let that stop me.

"For me?" I finally said. "You know, that's funny, because I don't recall having a divorce on my wish list."

"Don't be glib, Rowan," she sniffed. "This is serious."

"Oh, trust me, I know that."

"Then don't make jokes."

"Aren't you the one who just said a few minutes ago that if you didn't joke about it you'd cry?"

"Aye, and it mustn't work, because crying is obviously what I've been doing then, isn't it?" she chided.

"Yes, it is. I'm just trying not to join you."

"Come on in," she offered. "The more the merrier."

"Who's making jokes now?"

She simply shrugged in reply.

"Uh-huh, well, I think I'll pa.s.s. It's not really my kind of merry. So, you've been sitting here trying to convince me you want a divorce, which we both know is a lie. And now you're telling me that it's a gift for me. Well, here's a news flash. I'm returning it because I don't want it."

"Rowan...this is serious."

"No kidding...Look, honey...I don't know where this is coming from, but it needs to stop. I feel like all I've done since yesterday morning is argue with everyone in my path. With some of them, it's been for good reason, and others...Well, as much as I hate to admit it, it's just been because I'm mad at the world right now.

"All I can tell you is that you are the one person I don't want to argue with...especially not now...so, the truth is if I don't treat this like a joke and laugh at it, my brain is going to seize up because I'm all out of tears right now."

"But, Rowan..."

"But what?"

"A divorce would be in your best interest, then."

My headache was still gaining ground. I took off my gla.s.ses and laid them aside while I took a moment to rub my eyes. After slipping the spectacles back onto my face, I folded my hands in front of me and regarded her quietly.

After what seemed a long pause, I said, "Okay, I'm afraid you're going to have to explain that one."

"Do you really want to visit me in prison?" she appealed.

"No. But that's a moot point because you aren't going to prison."

"Be realistic."

"I am."

"Rowan...think about it...look at the evidence they have."

"I haven't exactly been privy to much," I told her. "Especially since your lawyer won't talk to me about it."

"Sorry," she apologized. "I'll tell Jackie to get you back into the loop then."

"That would be appreciated."

"Well, either way, certainly by now you know about the DNA evidence they have. Right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it was mentioned."

"Well, the way I understand it, that's pretty bad."

"I never said it wasn't."

"So, think about it. I must have done it. I must have killed them."

I shook my head at her. "You see, now I know I didn't just hear you say you killed those men."

"I don't know! I just don't know," she snipped, finally looking me in the eyes. Then, as she lowered her face once again, her voice became choked and almost whimpering. "I can't remember...I can't..."

Fear suddenly thrust icy fingers into my chest and took hold of my heart for a pair of beats.

"Felicity... G.o.ds... Please tell me you didn't confess to these murders."

"No, I didn't," she whispered.

"Then just what did you tell the police?"

"Nothing really. Jackie has been handling it."

"Good." I let out a relieved sigh. "Let her. That's what she's getting paid for."

"But, what if..."

"We've discussed this, Felicity. There is no what if."

"I know we've talked about it, but listen to me, Rowan. What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not."

"But..."

"Listen to me. You did not kill anyone."

"How can you be so sure, especially when I'm not?"

"I just am."

"Rowan..."

"Honey, just think about it. If you had done it, don't you think someone on the other side would be slapping me in the back of the head about now?"

"Aye, maybe they are and you're ignoring them," she replied, still sniffling. "You've got a headache. I can tell."

"It's not that kind of headache."

"Liar."

"You know, you're going to give me a complex. That's the second time you've called me a liar in the past half hour."

"Only because it's the second time you've lied to me in that same half hour."

"Must be losing my touch. You usually don't catch me."

"No, I almost always catch you. I just usually don't say anything."