by Rea Frey
She takes a breath and splashes water on her face. She slips on her clothes, unlocks the door, and edges a foot into the bedroom. Noah pulls on his T-shirt, his jeans already buttoned and loose around his hips. His back hulks in front of the bed. He turns. “Hey, you.”
She can’t read his expression. He takes a few steps toward her, and she holds her breath.
“You promise you’re okay?”
Grace nods and touches her throat again.
His eyes trail down to her fingers and she quickly drops them. “Holy shit. Did I hurt you?”
She exposes her neck, her pulse thumping against her aggravated skin. He grazes his fingers across her neck. “Jesus, Grace.” He tenderly kisses her throat with his lips. “Do you want some ice?”
“No, I’m fine, really.” She searches for her bag. Had she even brought it inside? “What did you say to me just now?”
“When?”
“When we were having sex. What did you say?”
“I have no idea what I said. I was just, you know, in the moment.” His eyes reveal nothing. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Worry pricks her skin, a million questions hammering to the knock of her heart. She all but demands he repeat what he just said, what she knows she heard. “I’m fine,” she says instead. “I just couldn’t breathe.”
They stare at each other. His words are sincere, but his eyes … she can’t read his eyes. She fumbles for something to say. “Did that feel good at least?”
“Are you kidding?” He kisses the top of her head. “That was the hottest thing ever. Pregnancy suits you.”
She forces a smile and refrains from wiping away his kiss. “Want to watch a movie or something?” She needs him out of her house, now, but she has to think. She has to figure this out.
“Sure. Want me to grab the boys?”
She nods. He disappears down the hall. Rage, fear, and disbelief swoop into focus. She replays the words—those exact words—he said during sex. Not just to her, but to someone else. Someone she loved. Someone who’s dead and can’t verify the truth.
She and Noah have had sex so many times, so why now? Why in this moment did he reveal who he really is? Grace’s heart stutters around her chest. She wishes she had a recording to play back, to prove his words to the world.
Even though she doesn’t have proof, she still knows. She knows what she heard. She knows Noah isn’t who he says he is.
She knows the truth.
Part 4
the lies we tell
“You are one decision away from a totally different life.”
—Mark Batterson
48
grace
Grace is numb. All this time, right under her nose. Noah. The guy from the party is Noah. It doesn’t seem possible. How he ended up here, in this house. How she couldn’t have known. How Lee couldn’t have known. Wasn’t there a look, his voice, her intuition, or something that would have tipped her off?
Luckily, Noah decided to sleep at his condo last night, as she worked to piece information together. Now, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of coffee, she watches the sunrise, takes a shower, and finally preps the lunches and snacks for the boys while they sleep. Her mind works at warp speed. Does she confront Noah and risk things getting out of hand? Does she demand he explain himself and tell his side of the story?
She weighs her options. She knows, for the moment, she has to keep things status quo until she figures out how best to handle him. She thinks of the girls and knows at some point, she’s going to have to tell them the truth about Lee.
Luckily, with Mason in science camp, she won’t have to make excuses to keep him away from Noah this week. It will buy her time to figure out her next move. She calls in sick to work and wakes the boys, getting Luca ready for school and Mason ready for camp.
They pile into the car after a quick breakfast. Despite what happened last night, Grace marvels at Mason’s ability to deal with his grief, to move into a new home, to have a new sibling, a different parent, and even try something unfamiliar, like camp, with such courage. He has been attending counseling two times a week (up from once a week for extra grief counseling). She listens when he wants to talk, which is rare, but she is also careful not to push him. She realizes that Mason not only demands space, but he needs it, and Lee never felt comfortable enough to give it to him.
Her heart aches as she replays the scene from last night. It wasn’t about the choking—they’d been rough before—but he’d said those words. The words from the party. She shudders at how willingly they all trusted him … how willingly Lee trusted him.
Grace drops Luca off first and then drives Mason the twenty minutes to the science center. “Are you excited for today, Mason?”
“I feel like I’ve waited my whole adult life for this day.”
Grace laughs. “All seven years of your adult life?”
He cocks a finger in the air. “Soon to be eight.”
“Getting up there, aren’t you?”
He shakes his head. “Practically ancient.”
Grace smiles at him in the rearview mirror. “Do you know what you’ll be studying today?”
“The teacher said we are going to talk about anatomy, biology, and then end with robots.”
“That sounds cool.” She waits for him to say more, but he doesn’t. “Would the old man like some music?”
“Ninety-one-point-one, please.”
She hits the preset button. The classical music takes over. Ten minutes later, she parks in the massive lot flanked by a bank of overgrown trees. She walks him inside and signs him in. He removes his backpack and lunch to place in a labeled cubby.
“I’ll be back at four, okay?”
He doesn’t say good-bye as he is ushered down the main hall by a waving teacher. She checks her phone. Work email notifications, a few texts from the girls, and a missed call from Noah. She knows she can’t avoid him forever, but maybe she can buy herself more time. She dials his number and rearranges her voice to sound neutral.
“Hey, I was worried about you. Everything okay?”
She fights the urge to scream. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I just didn’t hear from you last night before bed.”
They always text before bed, or talk on the phone, but she couldn’t force herself to go anywhere near her phone last night. “Sorry. I took a bath and fell straight to sleep. Just got the boys dropped off.”
“How’d he do?”
“Like a champ. Didn’t even say good-bye.”
He laughs. “That’s my boy.”
Grace bristles at the term and bites her bottom lip until she tastes the metallic sting of blood. Has she been missing every obvious sign? His preference for Mason above all of his other students, his subtle manipulations in suggesting he move in as a “temporary” fix, his need to be around her. A horrifying thought jolts through Grace. Is Noah with her only to get closer to Mason?
“Want to do lunch today?”
“Let me check my calendar. Hold on.” She pushes mute and takes a few deep breaths as she climbs back into her car. She presses the button again and sighs. “I have a lunch meeting with Jan today. Rain check?”
“Sure. Hey, you know what I was thinking?” he asks.
That you’re a horrible, evil monster? She forces her voice to sound neutral. “What?”
“What would you think about a one-night getaway? Just the two of us? Maybe an Airbnb somewhere, or a cabin on the lake. Just a day and night to slow down and relax. We could use it.”
I’d rather die. “How would we do that with the boys?”
“Well Chad has Luca on Saturday, right? Maybe Carol or Alice could watch Mason for the night?” Noah’s casual suggestion slices across the line.
She shoves the car into reverse and backs out of the parking space. “You really think he’d be okay with that after everything he’s been through? And his first week of camp, to top it all off?” His flippant attitude toward leaving Mason
grates on her last nerve. How entitled he is to think he knows best.
There’s a slight pause on the other end of the phone. “I do, actually. He’s responding extremely well to change.”
Grace calculates what to say, how to keep her distance without lying. “I just don’t want to overwhelm him.”
“I know.”
She can hear the rustling of papers in the background.
“I’m prepping our lesson plans for next week. Maybe I could plan a really involved project for him this Saturday so he’d be totally consumed?”
Consumed. The word vibrates through her body. “You want to go on Saturday? Like this Saturday?”
“Yeah, why not?”
She hesitates and wants to protest all the reasons why the fuck not. Instead, she laughs. “Sorry. I must sound like a real mom, worrying about all the details. I’ll check my schedule and get back to you, okay?”
“Want me to bring dinner tonight?” Noah’s voice is hopeful.
“You know, I’m pretty buried. I was going to try and catch up when I got home and just have a quiet night. Is that okay?” Grace’s voice is light but her entire body is on defense.
“Not trying to blow me off, are you?” His tone smarts underneath the teasing.
“Oh, please. The opposite. You know I’d spend every minute with you if I could. I just got Stacy’s accounts because she’s on maternity leave, so it’s just been a bit nuts lately.”
“Maybe she can return the favor when you’re on leave,” he adds.
“Maybe.” She lapses into silence. Her fingernails dig into her palm until she feels the sharp bite of pain.
“Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“I will. Hey, I need to go. Shouldn’t be driving and talking.” Grace wants to pitch the phone across the seat.
“Good girl. Have a great day.”
Good girl. Her skin crawls. “You too.”
She ends the call, tosses the phone onto the passenger seat, and screams in disgust. She can’t do this. She can’t pretend. She wants him gone.
49
noah
Noah balances the pizza box as he exits his car. He knows Grace said she wanted a quiet night, but he’s not buying it. Plus, he wants to ask about what he found in that banker’s box. He doesn’t like keeping anything from her. He checks the time and knows the boys will be asleep. He hopes Grace hasn’t eaten too much. She can never refuse 312 Pizza.
He uses his key and tentatively whispers into the hall. “Grace?” He slips the pizza in the kitchen, walks down the hall, and hears the shower running. He doesn’t want to startle her, so he tiptoes back to the living room and glances at her desk. The box is gone, but he does a double-take as he sees a familiar-looking journal. Where has he seen that before? Feeling like a snoop for the second time, he opens it and quickly learns that it’s Lee’s. He’s just about to close it, when something catches his eye. Despite his better judgment, he reads as fast as he can, absorbing the words. His body begins to heat, as if exerting himself. His palms grow clammy, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe. He reads a few sentences about Lee’s past. He flips back a few pages to gain some context and gasps when he reads the next paragraph. Words jump out at him. That night. Wasted. The man in the dark. If this is true, then …
“What are you doing here?”
He reluctantly pulls his attention from the journal to find Grace in a bathrobe with a towel wrapped turban-style around her hair. He holds the journal in the air. “I was just reading.”
She tightens her bathrobe, walks to him, and plucks the journal from his fingers. “That’s not yours.”
“Have you read this?”
Grace shrugs.
“Come on.” Noah resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she’s read it. Who would ever refrain from reading their dead best friend’s journal when it’s lying right here?
“Come on what? These were Lee’s private thoughts.” She looks so earnest, he almost believes her.
He drags a hand over his face and glances around her desk. “I need to ask you about something. Something I just read. And something I saw the other night.”
The silence hangs. She waits for him to continue.
“In that box the other day, there was a photograph.”
“Okay.” Grace perches on the edge of the couch and crosses her arms.
Noah attempts to remain calm. “Lee was with someone who looked exactly like her.”
“So?”
He assesses how to frame the question. “So, you said it was her best friend, right?”
“Shirley.”
“Shirley.” Her name sounds foreign on his tongue. “But they look…” Identical.
Grace uncrosses her arms. “I know. They were both hairdressers. Or, from what I know, Shirley wanted to become a hairdresser. Why, do you know her?”
Noah’s heart bangs against his shirt, and he struggles to breathe. “I recognize her.”
Grace cocks her head and looks directly at him. “From?”
“A party.”
“A party with Lee?”
Noah shakes his head. “Lee? No, I don’t think she was there.”
Grace snorts. “Oh, please. Like you can’t remember.”
He recoils. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Grace pushes away from the couch and paces the room. She turns back and her eyes are different, detached. “The choking, Noah. The words you said. I know what happened at that party. I know every fucking thing you did to her.”
His blood runs cold. Grace knows about the party? “What do you mean you know about the party?”
“I know what you did. The choking, telling her you could kill her. I know that you left her in a pile of her own vomit. That’s what I know.”
“I…” No, that’s not how it happened. Vomit? There’d been no vomit. “Where did you even hear that?” He works through the information.
“Lee,” she finally whispers. She lifts her eyes to his, and his heart hardens. “Lee told me about that night. She said that’s how she got pregnant.”
The statement hits as if crashing against glass. The words break apart, but he can’t make sense of them. Her sentences tangle and whip around the circumference of his brain. He’s not sure he heard right. “She said what?”
“The night she died,” Grace says. “She told me she was raped. That Mason was a product of rape. From that party. And that she was blackout drunk. That she woke up while someone was still inside of her. That she was left there, like trash.”
Noah shakes his head in disbelief. His nerves sizzle, almost electric. “That’s not possible.”
Grace shakes her head and waits. “What’s not possible?”
He sits beside her on the couch and grips the back edge until his knuckles are taut and white. “Because I never met Lee until you introduced us.”
She snorts again, and her fingers tremble. “Give me a break. I’m supposed to believe that? After you choke me and say the exact same thing? After you’ve been lying about who you are this entire time?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Grace. And I haven’t been lying.”
“Of course you’ve been lying!” She removes the towel from her head and shakes out her wet curls. “And those words … it’s what you said to Lee at the party. What you did to her at that party.”
“Grace, look at me.” Desperation takes hold, and he feels like he’s on the verge of losing everything: her, Mason, Luca, his unborn child, the truth, this moment. It all hinges on what he says next.
Grace finally looks at him, and he takes her hands. “I swear on whatever you need me to swear on. It wasn’t her.” The words leave his mouth in a rush, and he steadies his voice, demands that his heart rate come back under control.
She stares, unblinking, so long that he wonders if she’s gone into shock. “Who wasn’t her?”
Time slows. He can hear the ticking of the clock. The ice dispenser making fresh cubes. Th
e way Grace breathes, ragged and unsure, across from him. He is so confused, but not about that night.
Grace impatiently removes her hands. “Who, Noah? Who wasn’t her?”
“The girl at the party,” he finally says. He blinks slowly, frozen in a memory he’s catalogued somewhere in the recesses of his mind. But that night comes hurtling back, and he gasps at the clarity of it. He remembers everything about that encounter, especially her. “The girl in the dark.” He says the phrase dramatically, like something out of a movie. He straightens, looks at Grace, means it. “The girl in the dark wasn’t Lee.”
darkness [dahrk-nis]
noun
1. the state or quality of being dark
2. absence or deficiency of light
3. wickedness or evil
I’ll never forget that night as long as I live.
The way it changed everything in my life.
One moment, you think your life is a mess, and the next moment, it is a mess—literally, figuratively, permanently.
I’ve tried so many times to remember before.
How everything—even in chaos—was so much better than what came after.
I’ve never been the same after.
I will never be the same after.
I won’t stop until I prove what really happened …
I’m getting closer.
past
50
lee
Shirley startled her in the bathroom doorway. “Jesus, what are you doing? Move.” Lee tried to push past her, but Shirley curled her fingers around Lee’s shoulders.
“I want to make sure you’re okay.”
The room tilted, and Lee clutched the door frame. “I’m great.”
“Let’s get you home.”
“What home is that? My home? The one I share with my father? I heard you,” she hissed.
“Heard what?”
“In my mother’s room, you and … him.”
Even through her drunken haze, she could tell Shirley was ashamed. “Oh God. I didn’t even think of it like that, as her bedroom. I’m so sorry. I would never…”
