_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

Everything about him is warm—his hands, his eyes, his voice—
everything but the smile. You can see the killer in him when he shows
his teeth. My stomach a hard ball, my pulse skyrocketing again, I left his
office without shaking his outstretched hand. I couldn’t stand to touch
him.
I understand, I do. I can see what Megan saw in him, and it’s not just
that he’s arrestingly handsome. He’s also calm and reassuring, he exudes
a patient kindness. Someone innocent or trusting or simply troubled
might not see through all that, might not see that under all that calm he’s
a wolf. I understand that. For almost an hour, I was drawn in. I let myself
open up to him. I forgot who he was. I betrayed Scott, and I betrayed
Megan, and I feel guilty about that.
But most of all, I feel guilty because I want to go back.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 2013
MORNING
I had it again, the dream where I’ve done something wrong, where
everyone is against me, sides with Tom. Where I can’t explain, or even
apologize, because I don’t know what the thing is. In the space between
dreaming and wakefulness, I think of a real argument, long ago—four
years ago—after our first and only round of IVF failed, when I wanted to
try again. Tom told me we didn’t have the money, and I didn’t question
that. I knew we didn’t—we’d taken on a big mortgage, he had some
debts left over from a bad business deal his father had coaxed him into
pursuing—I just had to deal with it. I just had to hope that one day we
would have the money, and in the meantime I had to bite back the tears
that came, hot and fast, every time I saw a stranger with a bump, every
time I heard someone else’s happy news.
It was a couple of months after we’d found out that the IVF had failed
that he told me about the trip. Vegas, for four nights, to watch the big
fight and let off some steam. Just him and a couple of his mates from the
old days, people I had never met. It cost a fortune, I know, because I saw
the booking receipt for the flight and the room in his email inbox. I’ve no
idea what the boxing tickets cost, but I can’t imagine they were cheap. It
wasn’t enough to pay for a round of IVF, but it would have been a start.
We had a horrible fight about it. I don’t remember the details because I’d