“Never,” I told her. There was no way. My stomach twisted into a knot as I thought about all the times she disappeared, answered messages only after she walked away from me, and held secret conversations. No. That couldn’t be why. Not my sweet flower.
“What about Moreland. You said you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. That’s not normal is it?”
I shook my head. “No. We’re best friends. We talk all the time, at least a few times a week. He’s ignored all my calls and texts lately, though. I could have sworn I saw him in town a couple times just before he shut me out. Why would he be in town and not let me know? It doesn’t make sense. Neither of them make sense anymore.”
I slammed back another too-large glass of bourbon and shakily poured another.
“The last time I saw him, it was a Saturday, and when he finally got back to me, he laughed and said, ‘How am I supposed to be in Atlanta when I’m in Jacksonville working?’”
“Isn’t he in the Navy there?” Fiona asked.
“He is, but it was a Saturday. He doesn’t work on Saturdays.” Fiona nodded her head, but her lips were pursed tight, and she looked almost anxious. “What is it?” I asked.
“Do you think?” she huffed and then sort of chuckled to herself.
“What?”
“Sorry, you’re going to think I’m a fool for asking.”
“Ask.” My tongue felt thick as I demanded she spit it out.
“Do you think maybe there’s something going on with Moreland and Violet? They’ve both been acting really weird, and neither of them wished you happy birthday or whatever.” She scrunched her nose in distaste as if saying the other reason that they would send happy wishes was because of my anniversary – the more important part of the date.
“Noooo,” I dragged the word out far too long, but my mind raced back to the times I thought I’d seen More in town. Weren’t they on the same days that Violet pulled her disappearing acts?
“It’s only…” Fiona hesitated and chewed on her bottom lip nervously. I didn’t want to tell her but the pink of her lipstick stained her teeth when she did that. “Well,” she continued as I grew oddly infatuated with the way her lipstick transferred to her pearly white smile. “I saw them together one night.”
That snapped me out of my stupor. “What?” I picked up the bourbon bottle and decided to hell with the glass. Fiona still had some in her glass. I wasn’t sure if that was her first, second, or third as I took a slug straight from the source. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me, so I took pictures. It was a couple weeks ago, but I’ve been nervous about telling you. I didn’t want you to think… With what I said to you on your last birthday, I… Shit, I don’t want to lose my job over this.” It looked like Fiona had tears in her eyes as her hands shook.
“Show me,” I demanded, though I wasn’t sure the words came out as smooth as I meant for them to.
Fiona slowly pulled out her phone and then swiped through a few images until she got to one of my wife and cousin sitting at a candlelit dinner with their heads together. His hands were on top of hers on the table. They appeared to be looking deeply into one another’s eyes.
“He has a fiancée,” I murmured. Never mind the fact that my wife was married – to me – and shouldn’t be having a cozy, romantic evening out with another man. I tried to picture when she could have had an evening out, but my fuzzy, bourbon-addled brain wouldn’t allow me to think straight. She was usually home in the evenings, right?
Fiona wasn’t done, though. There was a picture of my best fucking friend kissing my wife. I squinted to try to straighten out my vision. Was that her nose or lips? Shit, I couldn’t tell. Then there was one of them hugging each other too close. The candles. The dinner. The secrets. The missed calls and texts, and then the abandonment on my birthday all started to add up.
I reached for my phone to call my wife and ask her what the hell she had been up to, but it wasn’t in my pocket. Fuck. I hadn’t expected to be in the office that long. I’d left it in my car when I ran up here after the studio. What if everyone had been trying to reach me while I was sitting here drinking myself into a fucking stupor? What if they were too busy fucking one another to reach out and my phone wouldn’t have a single missed call on it?
So many questions ran through my mind as I used Fiona’s phone to send the pictures to myself. She bobbed her head and smiled as I did so. Then, she moved closer and pulled me into her arms.
“It will be okay, Ridge. You’re not alone. I won’t let you be alone with this.”
“Everyone else did.”
“Fuck them,” Fiona insisted.
“Yeah, fuck them,” I growled, though I don’t think the words came out as more than a slurred grumble as everything seemed to slide sideways and grow hazy around the edges.
Chapter 8
Violet
“Hey sis, you look like you’re about to throw up.” My little brother smirked at me and then turned to survey the scene. “You did an amazing job. He’s going to love it.”
“I hope so, Drake. It’s been hell trying to keep it from him.”
