Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Finn

U nable to sleep, I turn and glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It's almost three a.m. Why isn't Skye home? Yeah, she said she was working on a story, but doubt seeps through my veins. The past few weeks haven't been easy. She's been consumed by this mysterious story, and I've been focused on finishing my triptych. My wife's career is soaring; mine has been at a standstill up until today. Maybe I've been a disappointment to her. She's the breadwinner, me the sporadic contributor. Maybe she's had enough of it. Enough of me. The image of her in that skimpy black dress flashes into my mind. Hell. She's never looked that hot for me when we've gone out. I dwell on the fact that she wasn't wearing her wedding band and replay her words in my head. I'm about to break a s tory . What story? In retrospect, I don't believe a word she said. A gut-wrenching reality eats at me. She must be having an affair. Landing Kayla Phillips as my manager may be after the fact. There's nothing to celebrate. I'm losing my wife.

My desolation finally succumbs to sleep, but shortly after I doze off, Maddie's wails awaken me. Groggily, I roll out of bed and pad over to the small room, her nursery, adjacent to ours. I lift her out of her crib. The fury of her cry tells me she's hungry. Cradling her in my arms, I reach for the nearby bottle of formula that Skye left for me. I put the nipple to my princess's lips and she sucks it vigorously. When she's halfway done, my cell phone rings. Still holding Maddie, I dash back to our bedroom. The phone's on the nightstand. I blindly accept the call and put it on speaker expecting or should I say hoping to hear Skye's voice.

Instead, a solemn male voice drifts into my ears.

"Finn Hooker?"

"Yes."

"Officer McGowan from the LAPD. I'm afraid I have bad news."

My pulse instantly quickens as panic trickles to my gut. The bottle shakes in my hand, and falls out of Maddie's mouth. She bawls as trepidation rises inside me.

"Your wife has been in an accident."

My heart stutters in my chest. "What do you mean?"

"She encountered a deer on Mulholland Drive . . . "

"And . . . " My voice trails off.

"She lost control and the car skidded off the road."

"She's okay, right?"

"Mr. Hooker, I'm sorry to inform you . . . "

My heart practically stops, anticipating the officer's next words.

"The car exploded on impact." Pause. "Your wife is dead."

The bottle falls from my hand and rolls across the floor.

In a state of shock, I clutch our baby who hasn't stopped crying.

It takes several long minutes for the devastating news to sink in. When it finally does, it hits me like a knife to my chest. I fall to my knees, still clinging to our baby. A raw feral sound, half sob, half roar, explodes from my throat and wracks my body, tears of despair joining Maddie's.

She's now mine to raise alone.