Listen for the Lie(72)

I don’t, but I just shrug.

“The thing with Matt and me—”

“I don’t care.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. He was just always there and my ex and I were always fighting.”

“Seriously, I don’t care. I would have cared back then, but I can’t really muster the energy at the moment. I would recommend you stop, considering what we just heard from Julia.”

She leans against the side of the house, exhaustion on her face. “I didn’t know. It was never really more than sex with me and Matt, so we never fought or…” She swallows hard. “I’m an idiot.”

“I mean, I married him.”

Her eyes shift to mine and then quickly away. She wants to say something in response to that, but is clearly holding it back.

I wonder what else she’s been holding back.

“Did you hook up with Colin?” I ask.

“Is there a woman in this town who hasn’t hooked up with Colin Dunn? Even your mother slept with him.”

“But were you with him while he was dating Savvy?”

“No, before, but we both know that Colin and Savvy weren’t exclusive.” She raises an eyebrow. “Savvy got around more than Colin, if I remember correctly. Funny how the podcast conveniently leaves that out.”

Savvy appears on the porch, mouth open in mock anger, like she’s insulted. “Excuse me, are you trying to imply that I was a slut? I told you I never liked this bitch.”

“Why did you go see Matt, the night of the wedding?” I ask, ignoring her.

“I was drunk. It was stupid.”

I wait, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“I would never sleep with your husband, for the record,” Savvy says. “Because I’m a good friend, but also because you have terrible taste in men.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” I snap.

And I realize, too late, that I’ve said that out loud.

Nina freezes, slowly looking over her shoulder to where I’ve just spoken to my imaginary friend.

“Are you … okay?” she asks hesitantly.

I flush. “I’m fine. What did your stupid drunk brain want with Matt that night?”

“I…” She pushes a hand through her hair with a sigh. “I knew you two were at the wedding that night, and I decided I was going to go over there and make a scene so that you would know I was sleeping with Matt. He’d been talking big about leaving you, and I was going to force the issue. I went over there and waited.”

“What happened when he got there?”

“I asked where you were, and he just started screaming at me to go home. Barely even let me get a word out.”

“So he was upset? Or angry?”

“Yeah. I figured it was because he could tell what I was doing, waiting outside his house like that. I just started apologizing and left.”

“Was he … I don’t know, disheveled? Dirty?”

She takes a step back, putting her hand on the doorknob in preparation to flee this conversation. “Matt didn’t kill Savvy. I know him. He didn’t kill her.”

I cock an eyebrow. “You know him so well that you didn’t realize he was beating the shit out of his wife?”

Her face hardens. She says nothing.

“Why is everyone so eager to jump to Matt’s defense, but the entire town immediately decided I was a murderer?”

“First of all, Matt wasn’t covered in Savvy’s blood. And second of all, I defended you on that podcast.”

“I know you did. And I thought it was because we used to be friends, but I think it’s more that you felt guilty for sleeping with Matt. Am I close?”

“Go fuck yourself, Lucy.” She walks into her house and slams the door.





CHAPTER FORTY


LUCY




Paige discovering us in bed together seems to have had no effect on Ben, because he invites me over again that night, and I’ve stopped pretending that I’m going to start making good choices.

I glance around for her when I walk into his hotel room. We’re alone.

“I took Paige’s key back,” he says, walking into the kitchen. Two cups with ice sit on the counter, waiting for him to pour liquid in.

“You know that just tells her we’re still sleeping together.”

“I’m aware. Paige doesn’t get an opinion on my dating life.”

“Ben, I don’t think dating is the word for this.”

He pauses with the whiskey bottle hovering over a glass, raising an eyebrow at me. “Everything okay with the books? Your books, I mean?”

“There’s either going to be a spike in sales, or it’s going to ruin my entire career. I’m excited to find out.”

He winces, but doesn’t apologize.

If I had any self-respect, I’d leave. I would not have sex with the man who is using my life and the murder of my friend for ad dollars on his podcast.

My self-respect is apparently lacking, because I walk over to the living room and sit down on the couch. There are papers and a laptop on the table.

My own name catches my eye, and I lean forward, turning the paper so I can see. It’s an outline for an episode. Mom’s name is on it, as is Nina’s. Ben’s written a few lines of what he plans to say in neat, clear handwriting, and one catches my eye.