“Postpartum psychosis!” I burst out, loud enough that Andrew’s eyes fly open. “You think I’m psychotic?”
“No, no… I don’t… I just…” He blinks a few times. “Look, you told me you’d consider going to a therapist when we got back from the hospital…”
I fumble with my nursing bra. “I’m not psychotic, Dean.”
“I never said you were. I just don’t want things to get out of control.” He chews on his lip. “Please just get some sleep tonight, Anna. Will you at least do that for me?”
My heart is pounding. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I tried, even though I’ve been awake for… well, a lot of hours. Psychotic? How could he say that to me?
All right, maybe most people wouldn’t break into another woman’s house and write on her walls. But I did it for a reason. A good reason. I wish I could explain it to Dean, but he wouldn’t understand. He never even thinks about that girl who dumped him in Chicago.
“I’m going out,” I say as I hook my bra back up and thrust Andrew into Dean’s arms. “I need to get some air. You can take the baby if you want him so bad.”
Dean watches me, his eyebrows still bunched together. He’s worried, but he’s worried over nothing. I’m fine. Better than fine. I’ve been thinking so much more clearly than I have in a very long time.
“It’s cold out,” Dean points out. Andrew is wailing in his arms. “Why don’t you stay here?”
“I need some air,” I say again.
“Where are you going?”
“I haven’t decided.”
New York is a big city—I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to go. I could walk around the park. I could see a movie. I could visit Francesca’s restaurant.
Or I could go to Joel’s apartment. Maybe he and I need to have a little talk. Cassie was panicked enough by my threats that she’s surely dumped him by now. I want to see his face—see him crumble the way he made me crumble when he broke my heart. And if Cassie hasn’t managed to destroy him, maybe I need to pay a visit to her. Convince her. One way or another, there will be retribution.
Because I lied about one other thing.
I absolutely did mean to kill Francesca.
And I’d do it again.
THE END
（Keep reading for an excerpt of my new book, The Perfect Son）
Acknowledgments
It is incredible how much help I get from the point I finish my first draft to the final version. There are times when things happen in my life to make me realize how lucky I am to have the support I have—friends and family who are always there to give me an opinion or more.
First, I want to thank Melanie. She didn’t read this book, but she will probably tell you that she’ll throw up if she has to give me her opinion on one more cover. Thank you to my mother, for reading the book three times, twice on her phone, in spite of never actually understanding it—that takes real love. Thank you to Kate, for the awesome and thorough editing job. Thank you to Jess, for the eternally harsh criticism. It makes my stomach sink, but it always makes the book better. Thanks again to Rhona for cover advice.
Thank you to new friends. Thanks to Jen, who helped me work through the tricky ending. Thanks to Rebecca, for your great advice. Thanks to my new writing group—yes, you only read the first two chapters, but sometimes that’s enough.
Thank you to my father, for teaching me the correct spelling of the word “acknowledgments.” Apparently, the preferred spelling in this country is without the extra “e.” I didn’t double-check, but I trust his judgement.