Tallulah

Selma County Sheriff's Department.

I should be scared. I should be terrified. I should be screaming and crying and telling them how sorry I am - I didn't mean it really please let me go home please - but I'm not. I'm calm, and that scares me more than the prospect of what may very well happen to me. I look down at my dress and close my eyes at the splatters and how my belly swells so much that the buttons on the already ill-fitting dress threaten to pop right off and bounce off the one-way mirror.

"So, you just - "

"I want to talk to a lawyer." The police officer looks up at me, ruddy face falling slightly as he sighs and stands up, pincing the file between his grubby, fat fingers. "Please."

"One'll be with you shortly, ma'am. You just sit tight and holler if you need anything." I sigh and he leaves, waddling out of the room as he shuts the door quietly.

I glance at my hand - the diamond ring and the thin band make me want to laugh, and I do, because they're symbols of the one thing Addie couldn't do, which was love me. I should take it off, right? We're not married anymore, but I can't, because they're still momentos of a time when I was actually happy, when we were happy. Were we ever happy? I'd like to think we were, even for a little while.

I rest my hand on my belly, rubbing it slowly as I stare blankly at the door. I want to cry, but I can't. I physically can't, so I just tap my foot against the floor slowly instead, trying to calm myself down. I'm not due for another two weeks, and it dawns on me that he's probably not going to be there, considering the events of the last two hours.

"Mrs. Papadopoulos?" I blush a little because he used to say that, but not nearly so questioning, before everything got so messed up and - "I'm your public defender, Mr. Elks." He's young, like Addie was - is? - and his eyes are brown and his smile is reserved and quiet as he places a brown suitcase on the metal table. I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything, because it's finally sinking in that I really did do this and that the blood on my dress isn't just a spot in my vision. I can't believe it. He keeps talking and I don't understand any of what he's saying because it all seems so surreal. "Ma'am?"

"I'm sorry?" I ask, shaking my head. "I didn't hear what you said."

"I want to know what happened. I can't help you unless you're honest with me." I gnaw on my lip and he starts going through a file similar to the one the police officer had. "How long have you been married?"

"Eight years," I say quietly, thumbing the hem of my dress. I drink some water shakily, rubbing my arm.

"And what does your husband do?"

"He's a cameraman, but he used to be a firefighter."

"How's the relationship between you two?" He starts writing some things down on a yellow notepad and I sigh. "You're expecting, so I suppose things were good?" I shrug, rubbing my belly when the baby starts kicking.

"No. I was good to him. That doesn't mean he was good to me."

"So what happened? Why are you here?" he asks, propping his head up. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I shot him." Mr. Elks looks over at me, surprised. "I didn't mean to do it, just like he didn't mean to cheat on me and hit me and do everything else to me."