Chapter 70: Dead Mother

"Dorian Heathcliffe." she supplied.

"You know who I am."

"Of course." Marianne settled into the chair. "We have TV here. What I want to know is why you are here?"

The guard finished securing the area, then stepped out.

"I am married to Naomi Bennett, your daughter."

"I know that too." Marianne leaned back slightly. "Why are you here, Mr Heathcliffe?"

"I have a couple questions."

She looked at him steadily. "Go on."

Dorian didn’t bother easing into it. There was no point. "First of all, why does your daughter think you are dead?"

She looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "Because I am. At least to her."

That answer only created about twenty more questions.

"I don’t understand."

"I didn’t want her to keep visiting me here," Marianne answered.

Dorian frowned. "Uh, okay. That’s understandable when she was younger. But she is an adult now. You really want her to go the rest of her life not knowing you are alive?"

"Yes."

The answer came so simply that Dorian didn’t even know what to do with it. He had expected some long explanation about protecting Naomi from the shame of having a mother in prison.

Instead, Marianne looked at him like there was nothing more to discuss.

"Well," he said slowly, "I started looking into your case, and I think there is a possibility I can get you out of here."

Marianne raised one hand immediately. "Mr Heathcliffe, let me stop you right there. You are not the first lawyer to walk in here and tell me they can get my sentence overturned. I will tell you the same thing I have told every single one of them. No."

That was not the response he was used to getting. People usually wanted out of prison. Quite desperately, in fact.

"Why?"

"I have the right to keep my reasons to myself. And I intend to."

Dorian studied her. There was something here. Something big enough that Marianne would rather sit inside Bedford Hills than risk opening whatever door Dorian had just knocked on. His instincts sharpened instantly.

Marianne shifted in her chair. "Now, seeing as Naomi isn’t here with you, I believe she still doesn’t know about me. I would like you to keep it that way."

He smiled. Suddenly, several things about Naomi were starting to make a little more sense. "Did prison change you, Mrs Bennett?"

Marianne’s eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Because the woman sitting in front of me is not the woman Naomi told me about. Naomi remembers you as gentle," he continued. "She talked about you like you hung the moon. But you’re sitting here telling me you deliberately let your daughter believe you died."

"I had my reasons."

"And apparently none of those reasons involve how that might have affected her."

"Tell me, is this some kind of peace offering to stop her from divorcing you? Get her mother out of jail so she will be grateful to you?" she asked. "Indebted to you?"

"A whole lot of things are beginning to make sense, Mrs Bennett. It’s quite refreshing, actually. I have been going crazy out of my mind trying to understand my wife." He thought about Naomi’s obsession with independence.

Her suspicion whenever anyone did something kind for her. The way she assumed generosity came with strings.

"I feel like I know her a lot better now," Dorian said.

"If she wants a divorce, give her a goddamned divorce!"

"You know nothing about us."

"I know she wants out."

"You’ve sat here all these years, hiding from the world, hiding from her! After! You messed her up." he emphasised the word ’after’.

"My daughter isn’t the messed-up one," Marianne said coldly. "Tell me, how many more failed marriages will finally be enough?"

Straight for the throat.

"Mrs Bennett," he said, "coming at me isn’t going to get me out of here as fast as you want me to."

"Then leave my daughter alone."

Dorian folded his arms. "You tell me why you do not want to get out of here, or the first thing that comes out of my mouth when I see your daughter is that her mother is a coward and is very much alive."

"You are a bully too." Marianne continued, "I see she made the same mistake I did."

That stopped him. He genuinely didn’t understand what she meant. Then it landed. Dorian sat straighter.

"You..." He stared at her. "You think I’m abusing her?"

"You’re doing something."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Why else would she be so desperate she requests a divorce so publicly? The whole thing was on television. What exactly am I supposed to think?"

"Mrs Bennett, you have it all wrong. We accidentally got married in Vegas. I had never met her before Vegas, and I didn’t meet her again until she served me divorce papers."

She blurted, "What?"

"I’m not exactly supposed to talk about this."

That was true. The contract required discretion. But somewhere between being accused of abusing Naomi and realizing Marianne was operating on completely wrong information, Dorian decided this qualified as an exception.

"We had an agreement," he said, "but I guess I can classify this under special circumstances."

"What?"

Dorian almost sighed. It was beginning to sound like he had broken the woman.

"She married you without knowing you?"

"To be fair, we were both drunk."

"Is that supposed to be logical?" Marianne asked.

Dorian considered the question. "No."

At least there was no point pretending otherwise. Two drunk strangers getting married in Las Vegas after meeting for the first time was not a story that improved with legal analysis.

"But what I said earlier still stands, Mrs Bennett. Give me one reason to stay out of this." Dorian continued before she could shut him down again. "Your daughter is an amazing woman. She deserves all the happiness in this world because she gives it freely, asking nothing in return. There are too many things raising questions and alarm bells as I get to know her,"

"You tell me, or I tell her."