The ride was smooth and quiet. She felt ensconced, isolated from other cars on the road, as they drifted down her street and away from the mob. No one followed them. They took the little-known back roads that wound and twisted to her mother’s house.
“Detective Crowe asked if I was angry, if I’d thought about hurting Geneva,” she told Will. “Like he thought maybe I had something to do with this.”
Will shook his head in disapproval. “You should never have talked to him.”
“I know.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. He knows my schedule for that day. The weekend is documented on social media. I’m sure he can discern where I was and what I did via my smartphone data. They have video of Geneva leaving our house unharmed on Friday. I think he was just goading me. Trying to get me to react.”
She stopped short of telling Will she wanted to come clean with the police about the woman from the train. Something inside kept her from uttering the words. Why?
Maybe because more than anything, Selena wanted this to just go away. Was that still possible?
She spent the rest of the ride turning back the clock. If she’d left after the sexting. Or after the Vegas incident. How would things be different? But you couldn’t do that, could you? Not when there were children, people formed from your love for someone. There was no undoing the bad without losing the good. That was the trick of it all. The tangle of life. Just move forward, recalculate, recalibrate, find a new path.
There were no reporters at her mother’s place, and they pulled into the garage that had been left open in anticipation of their arrival. They sat a moment after Will killed the engine. It ticked in the silence that fell. She didn’t want to go inside; she couldn’t go home. She let herself sit a moment, collect her resources to deal with the boys.
“I wish...” Will started, putting his hand over hers.
Beth’s warning rang in her ears. It was solid advice from a good friend. What she needed was space and time, to find her footing.
“Don’t,” she said. He kept his eyes on her. She felt the heat of his gaze, though she didn’t return it.
“That I went to that party with you.”
It wasn’t what she expected him to say. She turned to look at him. He ran a hand through those wild honey curls.
“What party?” she asked.
“The night you met Graham. Remember?”
She remembered. Of course she did.
Cora and Paulo’s garage was meticulously organized—tools hung, bicycles on racks, kids’ gear from scooters to roller skates mounted or in clear bins. A stupid thing to notice, except that it struck a stark contrast to the disorder in her own life.
Will’s voice was soft when he spoke again. “I was supposed to go with you. But I had to work late.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
He lifted his palms. “I’m just saying. How would things be different?”
“You don’t have kids,” she said. “It’s easy to say you regret how things went. But I have Stephen and Oliver.”
“I know. Just—”
“Don’t.”
He nodded slowly, dipped his head. She flashed on the younger version of him, a day at the beach when he was tan and laughing, their toes buried in the sand. The girl who loved him was so free; she didn’t even know what freedom was then. Was he controlling? He used to buy clothes for her. She remembered liking that, that he knew her size, what looked good on her. But, yeah, sometimes she wore things she didn’t like to please him.
“I’m—here for you. And for Graham.”
With his hand still on hers, she felt the warmth of him, but also something else.
He still loves you, Graham always complained. They’d all tried to be friends. So evolved, weren’t they? But dinners were always awkward, conversations stilted. Then Will and his wife divorced. It’s like he’s just waiting for you to find your way back to him.
She disagreed. Will’s wife, Bella, was beautiful and sweet; they’d seemed happy. Together—in that way that people were or weren’t, loving looks, casual touches. But obviously she’d been wrong. So many marriages imploded before her eyes—her parents’, her sister’s, more than half of her friends’, her own. Maybe you just weren’t supposed to be together forever. Maybe it was too much to ask.
She pulled her hand away gently, touched him on the leg. He watched her for a moment, then lowered his eyes.