The Paladin by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Epub3
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company

28

Washington, D.C.—October 2016

Alicia Silva was sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen, staring at her laptop computer, when Dunne returned home. There was a box of tissues next to her. When Dunne entered the room, she looked away. “Desgraçado,” she said, barely audible. She closed the lid of her laptop and went into the bathroom. Their four-year-old daughter Luisa was taking a nap on the couch in the living room; Alicia checked her and closed the living room door. When she returned to the kitchen, she stared at Dunne. The corners of her lips were trembling.

“How could you?” she said. “I’ve always loved you. You were my only love.”

“We need to talk,” said Dunne. He pointed to the computer. “What have you been looking at?”

“What is Stylet?” she asked coldly.

“It means stiletto, in French,” answered Dunne.

“I know that,” she said. “What were you doing at the Stylet Club in Geneva?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Someone sent me an email. It said you were at this club with a woman. They sent me pictures. You pig.”

“What pictures?” said Dunne.

This last bland, equivocating question from Dunne drove Alicia into a fury. She picked up a coffee cup from the counter and threw it at him. It missed his head and hit the wall with a splintering crash that woke the four-year-old sleeping in the next room.

“Pictures of you and this naked woman,” she screamed. “This one. Right here! You see? She has her hand on your cock. Big tits. Brazilian wax. Did she blow you or fuck you? I cannot look at you. You’re a liar and a cheater and a shit. I’m leaving!”

The child was wailing now at the sound of her mother’s screams. Alicia waddled into the next room. She took Luisa in her arms, wrapped her in a coat, and whispered to her in Portuguese as she walked to the door.

“Nós estamos indo embora. Eu vou cuidar de você minha querida. Nós vamos encontrar uma nova casa.” We’re leaving him, my darling. We’ll find a new home.

Alicia took her purse and a warm coat, and a bag by the door that Dunne had overlooked when he arrived. She slammed the door behind her and carried the child to the car.

* * *

Dunne sat down at the kitchen table and looked at the computer screen. The image had the grainy look of a tabloid photo: the flash of the camera illuminating her white skin; the sheen of the blond hair against the dark, empty room; the slight bend in her knee as the hand reached toward him. And the absurd, humiliating portrait of a man with his trousers and shorts around his ankles, staring wide-eyed at the camera in the horror of being exposed.

Dunne shut the lid of the laptop. “I’m a fool,” he muttered, and then a whimpering groan. He ran to the door to chase after his wife, but Alicia was gone.

He returned to his seat at the counter. He was shivering, though it wasn’t cold. The screen of the laptop wasn’t quite closed.

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