I have to do this alone.
Ican’tdo this alone.
What I did… There’s no coming back from it.
Chapter 31
Thérèse
Now
Something terribly wrong happened in Paris. That’s the only logical explanation. Cassie’s story didn’t make sense, and I think she knew that. I saw the way she wrung her hands as she talked, how she jumped every time the tree rustled in the wind outside the window. I could have asked questions. There were so many holes in her twisted tale. But if I did, I wouldn’t be closer to the truth. There’s only one person I trust, and he’s not here. Where is he?
All night long, I stare at my phone, placing bets with the devil. Would it really be so bad if I called him? I could do it from the landline or from Cassie’s phone. That way it couldn’t be traced back to me. But what if I screw up everything again? Olivier was clear about that. We can’t take any risks. If I had listened to him in the first place, it would all be over by now. We’d be together. I’d be free.
Hours keep on ticking by, and still no Olivier. No sign of life.
But maybe that’s part of the plan. Maybe Olivier has it all figured out, and I just need to wait.
By early morning I’m like a lion in a cage, bouncing against the bars with too much energy to spare. I need to dosomething. I’ve spent way toomuch of my life feeling like other people were in charge, like I had to go along with whatever they wanted to put me through. For now there’s only one thing to do: I must get out of the house, away from Cassie.
I end up at the grocery store, mindlessly wandering the aisles as the wheels of my empty cart stick to the dirty tiles. If this were a normal day, I’d be planning what to make for dinner. That’s what Cassie would expect, especially after coming back from her big trip. Just because she’s acting like a lunatic doesn’t mean I can afford to do the same. Today, I’m a doting sister welcoming her beloved sibling home. This is still my life. For now.
“Ma’am.”
I look up to see a tall man in a uniform frowning at me.
“You’re blocking the way,” he adds, pointing up and down the aisle. He’s right. I’m standing in the middle, making it impossible for the mom behind me to push past with her stroller. “Ma’am? You shouldn’t be standing here.”
That’s true; I should be in Paris with Olivier. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him about this, but I want to go back there onourhoneymoon.
“I’m sorry,” I say, finally stepping to the side. “Your little one is so cute,” I add, turning back to the mother, without even looking inside the stroller. It’s what Good Taylor would have done—defuse any possible tension with a compliment. She’s still in there somewhere. I can’t wait for her to die a quick and painless death.
Mac and cheese. That’s what I’ll make tonight. Some good old American comfort food to help Cassie deal with the breakup. Does she seriously think I believed her? Thatanyonewould? She always underestimated Good Taylor. And I’ve waited long enough for the day it would come back to bite her in the ass.
I get home loaded up with two bags of food, even though I hardly remember buying anything. Cassie’s money—the stash I took before going to Paris—is dwindling fast. Based on the life she was living over there, I’m not sure hers is going to last very long.
I hear Cassie before I see her. She’s in the living room, talking to someone.
“I’m sorry,” she says. I stand in the foyer, so still and quiet I almost forget to breathe. “I was being dramatic. It all went so fast. I–I shouldn’t have said that to you. Can we please pretend it didn’t happen?”
Oh god. Olivier is here. He’s fine. He’s alive! Only now do I let myself accept how scared I was for him. Every muscle in my body loosens up at once. I’m like jelly. I can’t even feel my legs anymore, but I don’t care. He’s safe. Everything will be okay.
My first instinct is to walk in there. I have to see him, but I’m afraid of what will happen when I do. Cassie will read the look on my face, the love and the pure joy. These last few weeks, it’s been hard to fathom why she couldn’t see what was happening right in front of her. But every day Olivier and I got away with it, we became a little more reckless. Soon it almost felt like a game. If Cassie couldn’t see I was sleeping with her boyfriend—I didn’t know they were married then—that only made me want to move closer toward the fire, afraid of getting burned, but pulled in by the flames nonetheless.
“Please,” Cassie says now. “Can we forget everything?”
I grip tight onto the shopping bags, the blood draining from my fingers. My temples pulse against my skull. Soon this will all be over. Olivier and I will be together. I’ll do whatever it takes. Or else I’ll lose my mind.
But then another voice filters through the doorway. “This doesn’t make sense, Cassie. You told me your husband was out to murder you.”
It’s not Olivier.
Cassieknows.
Cassieknowsand Olivier didn’t come back.
I manage to stop the scream that wants to come out just in time. Instead it feels like I’m choking, like there is no air around me. Breathless, I turn around, which is when I see Cassie’s phone on the console. Moving one shopping bag to my right hand and wincing at the weight, I grab it. Then,I slowly open the door, clenching my jaw as if that will mitigate the noise. Outside, I shove the groceries back into the trunk of my car, holding on to the hood so it doesn’t slam shut. I can’t be too careful.
