“Maya,” he said, his voice so strained I barely heard him. “Did I hurt Kate?”
“No. No, I’m sure you didn’t.”
“But you don’t know for certain?”
“I know you. You wouldn’t do something like that. It was an accident.”
“Was it my idea to lie? Did I ask you to cover for me?”
“No, it was mine. It didn’t look good for you. If we’d admitted you’d gone out alone...”
He put his head in his hands and I thought he was going to let out a sob. I felt guilty for telling him about his fake alibi, but it was the truth, same as it being me who’d found out about Kate and Keenan sleeping together. It hadn’t necessitated me being any kind of sleuth, not considering how loudly Keenan had bragged about it at the Cliff’s Head one night, when he’d—surprise, surprise—had too much to drink. I’d stood in the doorway, out of sight, listening to him boast to his friends about how he’d come on to her and how she’d gone along with it for old time’s sake. Once confronted, she broke down, pleading with me it was a mistake, she’d been drunk, and had begged me not to tell Ash.
Of course, I had, but instead of Ash confronting her immediately he said he needed time to think. What the hell had there been to think about? I’d never liked Kate. Not her doe eyes, perfect teeth or her holier-than-thou attitude. Or the fact she was my age. My ugly-duckling-to-swan moment had happened, in the end. While I’d never been beautiful, I was attractive in my own way, and unlike when Ash had gone out with Celine, this time I could see the similarities in Kate’s and my looks. It pissed me off even more that Ash was obviously in denial, and I told myself to be patient, that it wouldn’t last between them, but just like Celine, everybody had fallen under Kate’s spell, and she’d ensnared Ash completely. They’d met when he’d gone paintballing with some friends. She’d shot him in the head and offered to buy him a beer by way of apology. Yes, that was Kate all over. The fun girl, the cool one—an overenthusiastic schoolteacher with a perfectly proportioned body, and a head full of values. Except for her bedding her ex-boyfriend one last time, something I took great delight in pointing out to her.
“This is so fucked up,” Ash said, pulling me out of the past. “If anyone finds out you gave me an alibi—”
“They won’t. They never have. It’s been over two years.”
“Jesus, this is why I left, isn’t it? Because I killed her?”
“I don’t believe you hurt her,” I said, allowing a sprinkle of doubt in my voice. “I don’t believe it for one second.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
“Because I knew how you’d react,” I said. “Look, today has been crazy. Let’s go to Maryland tomorrow. We’ll figure stuff out as we drive. We can get your things, bring them here and take it day by day, all right?”
Ash shook his head, his face distraught. “Maya...I don’t know if I can stay here. Maybe it would be better if I left town again.”
“Better for whom?” I said, struggling to keep my voice in check. “Do you have any idea how selfish you’re being after everything I’ve done for you?”
He shook his head. “Maybe...maybe we should sell the house.”
“What? No. This is my home, Ash. Mom’s buried here, and Brad. I won’t leave.” How could he even suggest selling this place? Had Lily put this idea into his head? How could he betray me like that? “I’m going to drop off the sweater,” I said. “We can talk more when I get back.”
Before he could protest, I left the house and got into my car, the pent-up anger inside me making it hard to breathe. I drove into town, my rage going from boil to simmer and back to boil again when I spotted Lily’s car in front of one of the rooms of the Harbor Inn.
I’d never had any intention of handing the sweater to Fiona, but I knocked on the wrong door at first, disturbing an elderly couple’s game of Scrabble. When Lily finally opened up, red-faced and puffy, I held out her sweater and she snatched it from me.
“You bitch,” she said. “I know what you did.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I kept my voice low and soft, as if I were speaking to a child. “If I’m being honest, you sound unhinged.”
“You, honest?” she said, letting out a hollow laugh as she stared at me. “You lied and manipulated us. You fed him those pills to get rid of me, that much is obvious, but I’ve been thinking. Ash thinks his father hated soccer, and I know that’s not true. He clearly remembered the receipt for the Benadryl you said you never bought, but I bet you did. Why would you say those things? What other lies have you been telling him?”
“Nice try. You’re the one who never told him about your past, and—”
“Confabulation my ass. Did you really use up all your allergy medicine, or did you give that to him on the sly, too? I’ve been trying to figure out why you’d warp his truth. Tell him something was a
