Chapter Thirty-Seven
The shock crushes my lungs. It’s all I can do to drag in small breaths.
Art is married.
Art has a wife who isn’t me.
That had been an irrational fear of mine, that he had a secret wife in Russia.
Or maybe not so irrational. He did react strangely when I asked him if he was married.
How could it be true?
My heart squeezes painfully with each frantic beat. Visions of me in jail and of Art getting deported come back with a vengeance. Isn’t that what will happen if the government finds out about his polygamy? Definitely, and I have no doubt Black Swan will ensure they do find out.
My mouth feels sandpapery as I start grasping at straws. Maybe Art was married but is now divorced? No, that doesn’t track. He told me he was never married. Either way, he lied to me—but
