Thinking of these things,
he was momentarily hypnotized by the sight of her there in the
tub, moving in the frothy pink water. His mind roared with the
horrific image of her as she had appeared when the accident had
occurred. Underwater. Stillness. Then her eyes bulging as her
head splashed up out of the sea's redness. The screaming. The
flailing. The blood. Splashing -
She was flicking bath water at him. "Matthew, are you here? I
said I'm happy for you. Did everything work out okay?"
"Yes. Yes," he said, blinking. A few droplets had landed on his
trousers. He brushed them away and said, "He's gone. It's over.
They all chose me over Peter."
"There," she said, "you see. I told you everything would work out
just fine."
He thought about how she saw things. A few months ago, when he
had felt doubt, she had helped him regain his focus and set the
stage for today's meeting. Her persistent belief in him had
finally won out, and ultimately he had believed in himself enough
to begin the painstaking maneuvers necessary to topple Jones
after he'd balked at Matthew's suggestion to make the Joey more
compatible with ICP's computers. That, he understood now, was
when it must have happened, when he had begun to live in his
wife's presence without really noticing her anymore, focusing
wholly on his work. The first stage of detachment had been after
the accident.
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