Listen for the Lie(80)

“I’m glad you finally came over,” he says as he shakes the tumbler. He’s making himself a martini.

“Why is everything the same?”

He strains the liquid into his glass. “What do you mean?”

“Julia didn’t want to redecorate?”

“Why would she? You have great taste.”

“Ah.”

He walks across the living room, two glasses in hand, and passes one to me. “What does ah mean?” He sits down next to me.

I take a sip of my drink and then set it on the coffee table. “It means I just realized that you didn’t let her redecorate.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that. I mentioned that I liked the way things were, and she didn’t seem bothered by it.”

That seems unlikely, but I don’t know Julia. Maybe she hates decorating. Maybe she really did think I have great taste.

“Are you going to tell me?” he asks.

I raise an eyebrow like I don’t know what he’s talking about. I do.

“What you remembered when we were outside.” He puts his glass on the coffee table. He’s already finished half of the rather large martini.

I look at the photo over the fireplace. It’s of Julia and Matt’s wedding day, her in a sleeveless mermaid-style wedding dress with shoulders that look like they were perfectly sculpted in a Pilates class. Our wedding picture once hung there.

I think it’s even the same frame. They just took the old one out and stuck the new one in.

Christ, that’s weird.

“I was kissing someone out there,” I say.

I turn my attention back to Matt. His jaw twitches, like it always does when he’s angry. His mouth is set in a hard line.

“Give me a break,” I say.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I know your angry face. And you have no right to an angry face. You were fucking Nina that night.”

He blows out a breath. “Not that night, but you’re right. I have no room to judge.”

I can’t hide my surprise.

“I’m trying to be more honest,” he says, noticing the look. “With you. About everything. I thought that if I pretended to have a good marriage, I would magically have one. I should have always just been more honest with you. I don’t think you ever would have cheated if I hadn’t done it first.”

I actually have no idea whether that’s true. I absolutely slept with Kyle as a “fuck you” to Matt, but I kept doing it because I enjoyed the thrill of it.

I decide not to tell him that.

“Who was it?” Matt asks. “Will it make me mad?”

“What doesn’t make you mad?” It slips out before I can stop it. I used to love to antagonize him.

But he just smiles, a little sadly. “That’s a good point.”

Jesus. I reach for my drink and take a long gulp.

“I don’t know,” I say as I put it back down. “I remember being out there, and kissing him, but I can’t see his face. But I remember Savvy interrupting us, and she looked kind of pissed.”

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pissed?”

“Yeah. She looked mad, and I think we must have left after that, because she said, Let’s go.”

“Must have been Colin,” Matt says.

“No, there’s no way,” I protest. “I didn’t really even like Colin, and I never would have made out with Savvy’s boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t really her boyfriend. They saw other people.”

“Still, I don’t think that I would have…” I trail off, considering. I make a face and shake my head. “He slept with my mom that night. Are you saying he made out with me, and then went back inside and started hitting on my mother?”

“Why not? You guys kind of look alike.” He laughs at the expression on my face. “There’s a solid chance he didn’t even know that Kathleen was your mom. The guy is dumb as a bag of rocks.”

“True.” I run a hand down my face. “I just can’t see it. Even if I was drunk. It had to be someone else.”

He reaches out, nudging my skirt up to put a hand on my knee. “It doesn’t matter,” he says gently.

I slap his hand away. “Of course it matters! It’s the first important thing I’ve remembered in years.”

“It’s not going to bring her back. Nothing will bring her back.” He puts his hand back and squeezes my knee. “I know that this whole podcast thing has been hard on you, but it’s almost over. And it doesn’t matter what that guy says. Whether Ben points the finger at you or me or Colin or Nina or whoever. He’s not the police.”

“It doesn’t matter what he says, but it matters to me who killed her. I want to know if it was me or you or Colin or Nina or my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“She was out that night! It could happen! Her alibi is Savvy’s boyfriend.”

He gives me a look that is both amused and a little pitying. I take another sip of my drink and consider whether I should do something about the fact that his hand has moved from my knee to my thigh.

I glance over at the wedding photo above the mantel. If I squint, it could be our wedding photo. If I squint, this whole house is mine again. This whole life is mine again. My pulse begins to race. A sick feeling rises up in my throat.