She can’t continue like this.
“Wait!” she calls out.
Avery doesn’t turn around.
“Avery, please!”
Maybe it’s the tone of Marissa’s pain-filled cry that captures Avery’s sympathy, because she pulls back the foot she was about to plant in the street.
Avery twists to face Marissa and studies her for a moment, then walks back.
“It wasn’t a man from the gym. That guy doesn’t exist,” Marissa blurts.
Avery nods. “He’s from your past, right? Someone you met at college, or maybe your hometown.”
The color drains from Marissa’s face. “How did you…?”
“Matthew knows him, too.” Avery says this as a statement, not a question.
Marissa wraps her arms around her waist and begins to shiver. “Yes,” she whispers. “We’ve known each other forever.”
Avery exhales. “You should have told me. We’ve wasted so much time working under a false pretense.”
“I’m sorry. Please, you have to help me. I’ll do anything to fix this.”
“What else have you lied about?” Avery asks abruptly. “Did you sleep with him more than once? Maybe it went on for a couple weeks. Or longer…?”
“No!” Marissa cries. She feels as if she were on the witness stand, being cross-examined. And she’s guilty, she knows she is, but only of that single infidelity.
“He’s always had a thing for you. You like the attention. Maybe you led him on, flirted behind Matthew’s back. But now he’s hooked on you, and he’s a problem that won’t go away.”
Nausea fills Marissa’s throat. How can Avery know so much? Marissa had liked the attention, but she never flirted, either in or out of Matthew’s presence. And not because she didn’t have the opportunity. The man she’d cheated with had been woven through most of their lives: When she was just a kid, he’d taught her to bodysurf the waves. They’d shared beers on sandy blankets, and he and Matthew used to race each other out to the floating dock. On her wedding day, he’d worn a tuxedo and stood beside the other men, and when Bennett was born, he sent a gigantic stuffed dog from FAO Schwarz. She has sat across from him at dinners dozens of times—and, yes, she has looked up and caught his longing eyes lingering on her face.
And just weeks ago—on the night this sordid mess all began—he phoned to say he was in the neighborhood, and a few minutes later she opened her front door to see him standing on her stoop with a wide grin and a bottle of Malbec tucked under his arm.
“He wasn’t ever my boyfriend,” Marissa tells Avery now. “But … he was my first kiss.”
His lips had felt warm and soft on hers. She’d caught the scent of the wintergreen Life Savers he’d always loved before she drew away. It was over in a moment, yet it felt as if it had the potential to change everything.
But then Tina had been killed and the whole world seemed to turn upside down. It didn’t take long for their high school English teacher to be arrested—everyone agreed, after the fact, that he’d always been creepy—and afterward, the connection Marissa had felt seemed to evaporate. “If Matthew finds out, it will kill him.” Marissa can hardly bear to say the words aloud. “I’m not hiding it just to save my marriage. It’s to protect Matthew. How could he ever recover from that?”
A screeching noise erupts, and both women whirl around in time to see a small brown car narrowly avoid rear-ending a delivery van.
“This circle is a nightmare,” Avery observes. “Accidents happen here all the time.”
Marissa reaches for the arm of a bench and eases herself down. She’s so light-headed she could faint. Avery knows everything now, and there’s no predicting what she’ll do. She could call Matthew at this very moment and blurt it out.
Matthew wouldn’t come home tonight, or ever again. He’d divorce her; Marissa feels certain of that.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Avery finally says, and Marissa holds her breath. “You can keep this one secret for now, but this”—Avery points to the note still in Marissa’s hand—“has to stop. Tell him you need to see him.”
“Won’t that only encourage him?”
“It will be a brief meeting. He’ll get the message loud and clear.”
Marissa briefly closes her eyes as her body sags in relief. “Thank you.”
“Text him now. One line: Can we meet today?”
Marissa pulls her phone from her purse and types the message.
Almost immediately, three dots appear on her screen. “He’s texting back.”
She waits, holding her breath, then reads the reply: I’m in L.A. all week. How’s Friday night or anytime over the weekend? I’ll clear my schedule.
“Clear my schedule,” Avery repeats, shaking her head. “He really does have it bad for you. Obviously you’re not going to meet him over the weekend because you’ll be focused on your husband. Text him back and tell him you’ll see him at noon on Monday at the coffee shop down the street from your store.”
Marissa frowns, her hand hovering over her phone.
“What?” Avery prompts.
“It’s just that he’s in California … but I guess he must’ve pushed that note under my door before he left.”
“Probably on his way to the airport early this morning.”
“Noon on Monday at Java Nation,” Marissa repeats as she types the message. The appointment feels like both a reprieve—because it’s almost a full week away—and a punishment.
“Between now and then, do not reply to any texts he sends. Do not answer the phone if he calls.”
Marissa nods.
“Put him completely out of your mind. And let me know if he does try to contact you.”
“But what am I going to say when I see him?”
“That’s what you’ve hired me for.”
* * *
Marissa has barely stepped inside Coco when Polly rushes to her side, bombarding her with rapid-fire questions: “Who would have left that note?… Should we keep the door locked during the day?… Do you think it’s safe for me to sleep here?”
Marissa massages her temples. “I have no idea.… I don’t think it’s necessary.… That’s up to you.…”
“It was the craziest thing!” Polly puts a hand to her chest as Marissa begins to walk away. “I heard the buzzer, and even though it was a little early, I went to open the door. Right after I saw Matthew through the glass, I noticed the piece of paper. Matthew almost stepped on it when I let him in.”
The anonymous note is clearly the most exciting thing that has happened to Polly in a while. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright.
The throbbing in Marissa’s head worsens.
“I put Matthew’s flowers in a vase,” Polly calls unnecessarily, as Marissa has already hurried into the back room and spotted the roses.
Their sickly sweet smell permeates the small area. Marissa appreciates Matthew’s gesture, but the flowers look a little wilted and brown around the edges. They’re not nearly as lush as the bouquet she received just a few days ago.