Lies We Tell

by Jeana E. Mann

  “No. I get it.”

  “Aren’t you mad?” Tears glistened on her eyelashes. “You lost your brother, your reputation, your college scholarship, your future. Her fingers curled into my T-shirt. “You’re the one who should be livid.”

  Her question made me pause. Throughout the night, while Stella had tossed and turned, I’d contemplated my conflicting emotions. Part of me felt relieved to know the truth of what had happened to Chris, the other part empathized with Lanie. I had no doubt that she’d acted in self-defense. In fact, I blamed myself for Chris’s brutality. I’d known he was dangerous, but I’d done nothing about it. Maybe if I’d tried harder or acted sooner, I could have saved them both.

  “I’m angry with myself, but not with Lanie.” I gave Stella a smile and traced the curve of her lower lip with my thumb. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s Chris. He’s the villain. We could be mourning Lanie’s death, right now, if Chris had been successful that night. She could be dead right now because of him.”

  A shudder ran through Stella’s body. I tightened my hold on her, wishing I could take away her anguish. We stood in silence for a few minutes. I closed my eyes and drew in the scent of her shampoo and the fresh coffee. Ten years ago, I would never have guessed this kind of bliss could exist in my future. Chris’s death, prison—all of it had brought us back together. We’d come full circle. I tightened my arms around her. The warmth of her body spread through my chest. I’d never get enough of her, not in a million years.

  An hour later, Lanie packed the kids into the van and left. Stella spent the rest of the day brooding, snapping pictures of the falling snow in silence. I hung around the house, doing odd jobs, for moral support. Even though we didn’t speak, her presence anchored me, and I wanted to give the gift back to her. Now and then, she’d glance up at me. When our eyes met, I knew that the events of the past had brought me to this moment. Although our lives had been a wild ride, I wouldn’t give her up for anything or anyone. Never again.

  A week before Christmas, I moved in with Stella. Snow covered the ground, wrapping the house in a thick cocoon of wintry silence. We sat in front of the fireplace, listening to the logs snap and pop. I tucked her into my shoulder, enjoying the weight of her head against my shoulder. The day before, we’d bought a live Christmas tree from the farm down the road and decorated it with strings of popcorn and macaroni. Doing those small, mundane things together meant more to me than anything in the world. I could easily picture myself with her for the rest of my life, and that’s why the tiny gift-wrapped box beneath the tree held an engagement ring.

  When the flames in the fireplace ebbed into glowing embers, she yawned and stretched like a kitten, making a tiny growl. “You’re so warm. I’m going to fall asleep here.”

  “Go ahead.” I brushed the top of her head with my lips. “I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

  “You know, this my first real Christmas tree,” she said. The branches sparkled with blue and gold lights, her favorite colors. She’d made a star out of cardboard and tinfoil, and I’d placed it on the top while she’d smiled. It had been one of the best moments of my life. “Lanie had a small, fake tree that she bought at a rummage sale. Some of the branches were missing, but we made it work. I wish she was here to see this one.” At the end of the sentence, her voice broke.

  “Why don’t you give her a call?” I asked, squeezing her tighter. “I know you miss her and the kids.”

  “I don’t know.” Her heavy sigh gusted against my chest.

  “Don’t be stubborn. She’s called here every day for a month. Maybe you should talk to her.” When she didn’t respond, I tilted her face up to mine, taking in the clear violet of her eyes. “Life is short, Stella. Don’t waste it.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Great.” I kissed her forehead, snuggling her closer. “And while you’re at it, maybe you can think about this.” Easing away from her, I shifted to the floor, balancing on one knee. My heart hammered against my ribs. The fate of my happiness rested in one question.

  “What are you doing?” Blinking sleepy eyes, she tilted her head to one side.

  I took her hand in mine, brushed a thumb over her soft skin, then pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “I love you, Stella Valentina. From the moment I saw you outside the principal’s office until today, you’ve been the only woman for me.” Her violet eyes sparkled with emotion. “Will you marry me?”

  “Owen.” One of her hands pressed to her chest. “I—are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” Bubbles of desire fizzed in my veins. “I know I’m maybe not the kind of man you pictured yourself with. But I have plans.” I swept her hair over her shoulder. “For the rest of our lives, I’ll prove my worthiness to you. We belong together, Stell. Lies and murder haven’t been able to keep us apart. Have babies with me. Grow old with me. Be my wife.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Stella

  Present Day

  Owen stood and retrieved a tiny gift box from beneath the tree. He pressed it into my hands. “Go ahead. Open it.”

  My fingers froze. He loved me. Owen. My Owen. How many nights had I dreamed of this moment? Of a future with him? Under ordinary circumstances, I would’ve run out the door as far and as fast as I could. But not this time. I wanted to be with him forever. When I lifted my gaze to his, the worry in his eyes melted my heart.

  “Of course, I’ll marry you.” I dropped the box to take his face in my hands. The stubble of his jaw tickled my palms. “There’s no one else for me, Owen Henry.”

  “Babe.” One corner of his lips twitched upward. I pressed a kiss there. He opened the gift box, withdrew the ring, and slid it onto my finger. “I know it’s small, but—”

  “Hush.” To stop him from making excuses, I kissed him, long enough to make my toes curl.

  As if on cue, my phone buzzed from its place the coffee table. Lanie’s name flashed across the screen. The girl knew how to interrupt my fun. My heart skipped a beat. She left a voice mail every day, sharing tidbits and funny stories about the kids, ending each call with an apology. I bit my lower lip, warring between stubborn pride and the need to talk to my only family member. Owen studied me with his calm, smoldering gaze.

  “Are you going to answer that?” he asked.

  “No.” I shook my head, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment. He lifted an eyebrow and grabbed the phone. “Owen don’t.” I reached for it at the same time, but he held it above his head, out of my reach, a playful grin curling the corners of his mouth. When I lunged at him, he wrapped an arm around my waist, rolling us onto the sofa, and trapped me beneath his long body.

  He answered the call before it went to voice mail. “Hey, Lanie. How are you?” I heard my sister’s voice on the other side. A little bit of the ice around my heart began to thaw. I missed her and the kids. Christmas wouldn’t be the same without them. Owen’s eyes met mine and held, challenging me. “I’m good, thanks…Yeah?... Stella’s here, but she won’t come to the phone because she’s a stubborn ass…I’ll tell her. She misses you too.” I bit my lower lip, fighting against the swell of emotion. “Okay. Merry Christmas.”

  He ended the call and returned the phone to the coffee table. With a sigh, he relaxed his full weight onto me, wedging a knee between my thighs. When he remained silent for a whole five minutes, my curiosity peaked. I poked a finger into his ribs. “Well? What did she say?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk to her.”

  “Owen!” I struggled from beneath him and straddled his thighs, gripping the fabric of his shirt. His large hands gripped my ass, rocking my hips forward. Through the thin polyester of my yoga pants, I felt the length of his erection.

  An infectious grin widened his smile. “She said we need to watch the eight o’clock news.”

  “That’s weird. What time is it?”

  He glanced at the watch I’d bought him for his birthday. “Seven fifty-nine.”

  “That’
s not good.” I snatched the remote control and clicked on the TV. A nervous chill snaked up my spine. What had she done now? Owen shifted my weight, so we could both see the screen. I glanced at him. “Do you know what this is about?”

  “Nope.”

  His fingers threaded through mine, giving me strength. I bit my lower lip when Michael appeared, speaking from the steps of the county courthouse. He looked great on camera, his bright smile and piercing dark eyes accentuating his good looks.

  “New evidence has been submitted in the homicide of Chris Henry. A woman has come forward. She was attacked by Henry on the night of his death and subsequently took his life in order to protect her own. Her confession has helped link Chris Owen to the death of Carla Cartwright, the young girl whose body was recently discovered. The prosecution is confident that this woman acted in self-defense and no charges will be brought against her. We are also confident that Chris Owen’s brother, Owen Henry, is innocent of any wrongdoing in this matter, and the court is in the process of setting aside his conviction.”

  I whooped and threw my arms around Owen’s neck. He stared at the television, expressionless, but emotion sizzled in his blue eyes. “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  “I don’t believe it,” he whispered.

  The phone rang again. This time it was Michael. I snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me.” His smooth tenor traveled over the airwaves. I’d never been so happy to hear from an ex-boyfriend in my life. “Did you see the news?”

  “Yes. Is it true?” My voice trembled with excitement. I gripped Owen’s hand, squeezing until he grunted. His gaze connected with mine, filled with disbelief.

  “One hundred percent. We’re working to expunge the charges as we speak. It will take a little while to get through the red tape, but I expect a full expungement to come through ASAP.”

  “Michael, you’re the best. I owe you for this. Big time.” His chuckle made my smile grow larger. “You don’t owe me anything, Stella. It was the right thing to do. Merry Christmas.”

  Thirty

  Stella

  Present Day

  Lanie arrived with the kids on Christmas Day. When she got out of the van, I gasped at the changes in her appearance. She’d lost weight and cut her long hair to shoulder length. Worry had robbed the sparkle from her eyes. Owen walked out to the van to greet her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze. A knot formed in my throat at the sight of his generosity. His ability to forgive and forget provided a shining example and made me ashamed of my behavior. While they gathered their belongings, I stood on the porch with my arms wrapped around my waist, shivering in the wintry air.

  “Hi,” Lanie said when she’d reached the top step. The tip of her nose glowed cherry red from the cold. Colton bounced at her feet, his small gloved hand in hers.

  “Hey.” I glanced at the sky then the ground, hating the prickle of tears in my eyes.

  “Congratulations on your engagement.” Her gaze flitted to Owen.

  “How do you know that?” The only people we’d told were the Shermans.

  “Owen called me to get my blessing before he asked you.” Her tentative smile held genuine happiness. “He’s one in a million, Stella.”

  The bonds of sisterhood were strong between us. Even though I hated her sometimes, I loved her more. For once, the need to be right seemed less important than the need to have her in my life. I threw my arms around her, pulling her to me, feeling the thinness of her body, and hating the time we’d wasted through our stubbornness. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

  After giving hugs to Trey and Kimberly, we trundled into the house. I’d stuffed dozens of presents beneath the tree for them. They exclaimed over the Christmas tree and began shaking the boxes, trying to guess what was inside. Lanie and I tiptoed around each other at first, but after a few hours, we fell back into the rhythm of our old relationship. This time, however, the gravity of maturity clung to Lanie. Owen made hot chocolate for everyone. We gathered in front of the fireplace to enjoy the falling snow and a renewed sense of family.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Lanie, searching her eyes. “I mean, really okay? You’re so thin.”

  “I’ve been too busy to eat. I finished my GED, and I’ve enrolled in college courses for next summer. I think I want to be a nurse,” she said, twisting a strand of hair around her index finger, the way she’d done since childhood. “Michael helped me find tuition assistance, and he found an attorney to help me get the back child support owed for the kids.”

  “That’s great. I’m so proud of you.” I covered her hand with mine to show my sincerity. “Wait a minute. My Michael?”

  A blush spread across her fair skin. “He’s not your Michael anymore, is he?”

  “No.” I studied her face. She bit her lower lip and glanced down at her lap. “You look guilty. Are you guys seeing each other?”

  “No, no.” She waved a hand through the air, laughter shaking her shoulders. “Of course not. He’s just been really helpful. He suggested I see a counselor to talk about Chris and everything. I owe him a lot.”

  “Michael’s a good guy,” I said. “I approve. You should totally go for it.”

  “Really?” The tone of her voice climbed higher. “Would that be weird?”

  “Probably.” I shrugged, enjoying her embarrassment. “But we’re strange people.”

  Her laughter rang through the room and filled the void in my chest. I glanced around the room, at the chaos created by the children, and thanked God for the blessings in my life. The aroma of wood smoke filled the air. Owen and Trey shouted in the other room as something meaningful happened in the football game. The Shermans arrived with an armload of gifts and Cindy’s famous pecan pie.

  Owen entered the room with Colton tucked beneath one arm like a football. The little boy giggled and kicked his feet, squealing with glee. “I hate to interrupt, but this young man had an accident in his pants.”

  “Sorry, Mommy,” Colton said. His childish smirk suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

  “Come here, big guy.” Lanie retrieved her child. With his small hand in hers, she chattered to him as they walked down the hall. I watched them with a lump in my throat. Where had the time gone? It seemed like yesterday that I was holding her hand and helping her with her homework. In a way, she felt like my child.

  Owen sat down next to me and pulled me into his lap. “How’s it going?”

  “Good.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “Better than okay,” he replied. “Great.” The brush of his lips across my temple filled me to the top with happiness. I snuggled into the nook of his arm, never wanting to leave.

  “Stella, something’s burning in the kitchen,” Cindy called to me from the hallway.

  I jumped from Owen’s side and ran to the oven. I’d forgotten to set the timer on the ham. When I opened the oven, black smoke rolled into the room. Dad opened the back door. Trey fanned the smoke alarm with a towel. Owen watched the performance with an amused smirk.

  We gathered around the large farmhouse table a few minutes later. Cindy had cut the charred top off the meat. I warmed up leftover fried chicken to make up the difference. Dad said grace, and Owen poured wine for everyone but the kids. Lanie rejoined us a few minutes later with a clean Colton.

  As I looked around the table, a feeling of peace descended over me. Except for Lanie, these people weren’t my blood relatives, but they were more family than I’d ever known. I smiled through their chatter and laughter. Beneath the table, Owen held my hand. Outside, the snow thickened. And inside the house, my heart swelled until I thought it might burst.

  We were about to dig into the meal when the front doorbell rang. A group of carolers stood at the front steps. Their warm breaths steamed up the chilly air. Marjorie came forward to greet us. She glanced nervously at Owen. “We j
ust wanted to say how sorry we are for the way we’ve treated you. I hope you’ll join us at the Christmas sing tonight. It’s at eight-thirty on the square.” One of the other carolers extended a paper flyer to me.

  “Sure. Thanks,” Owen said, in his usual, brief manner.

  “We’ll be there,” I said. Even though he didn’t show any emotion, I knew how much a gesture like this meant to him. After closing the door, I placed a hand on his arm. “That was nice.”

  “Yeah.” His deep voice cracked on the word.

  We rejoined our guests at the table. Chatter and laughter filled the house. A dozen conversations tumbled over each other. Despite the noise and the clutter, I wouldn’t trade one second of it. Beneath the table, Owen set his hand on the top of my thigh and squeezed. Our eyes met. Time stopped. I drew in a sharp breath, remembering the first time we’d kissed, and all the strange twists that had occurred to bring us to this moment. Clarity enveloped me. This beautiful monster of a man was mine, and I was never going to let him go.

  Thirty-One

  Epilogue - Stella

  Two Years Later

  The thick jungle provided little relief from the South American heat. At the front of the group, our guides cut through the undergrowth with machetes. Owen walked in front of me, a heavy pack on his back. I carried most of the camera equipment while Kevin followed up the rear. We’d been hiking for two days on an expedition to a newly discovered Incan ruin. If everything went as planned, this was going to be my second magazine cover. The volcano from Iceland had been my first.

  “You okay?” Owen asked over his shoulder.