Gone-Girl-by-Gillian-Flynn

near the door. ‘You are such a special person to me. You’ve handled all this so
amazingly well—’ Make her want to keep you safe.
‘I mean …’ Her voice wavered. ‘I feel so sorry, for Amy. Which is insane.
I know I don’t even have a right to feel sad for her, or worried. And on top of
feeling sad, I feel so guilty.’ She leaned her head against my chest. I retreated,
held her at arm’s length so she had to look at me.
‘Well, that’s one thing I think we can fix. I think we need to fix,’ I said,
pulling up Tanner’s exact words.
‘We should go to the police,’ she said. ‘I’m your alibi for that morning,
we’ll just tell them.’
‘You’re my alibi for about an hour that morning,’ I said. ‘No one saw or
heard Amy after eleven p.m. the night before. The police can say I killed her
before I saw you.’
‘That’s disgusting.’
I shrugged. I thought, for a second, about telling her about Amy – my wife
is framing me – and quickly dismissed it. Andie couldn’t play the game on
Amy’s level. She’d want to be my teammate, and she’d drag me down. Andie
would be a liability going forward. I put my hands on her arms again,
relaunched my speech.
‘Look, Andie, we are both under an amazing amount of stress and
pressure, and a lot of it is brought on by our feelings of guilt. Andie, the thing
is, we are good people. We were attracted to each other, I think, because we
both have similar values. Of treating people right, of doing the right thing.
And right now we know what we are doing is wrong.’
Her broken, hopeful expression changed – the wet eyes, the gentle touch,
they disappeared: a weird flicker, a window shade pulled down, something
darker in her face.
‘We need to end this, Andie. I think we both know that. It’s so hard, but
it’s the decent thing to do. I think it’s the advice we’d give ourselves if we
could think straight. As much as I love you, I am still married to Amy. I have
to do the right thing.’
‘And if she’s found?’ She didn’t say dead or alive.
‘That’s something we can discuss then.’
‘Then! And until then, what?’
I shrugged helplessly: Until then, nothing.