Shortly after lunch on Sunday, Eliana loaded up the girls after a tearful goodbye and headed home. They arrived home late into the night—long after Jesse left for his next trip. She hustled the girls inside, tucked them into bed, and then slipped quietly into her own room. The bed was made, not a pillow out of place, the sheets covered with a fresh comforter from the closet. As if that wasn’t evidence enough.Eliana couldn’t recall the last time Jesse had voluntarily changed the sheets.
Eliana stared, the emotional toll of the weekend and long hours of driving weighing heavily on her mind, then broke her gaze, trudging off to the closet to change. She bypassed the bed on her return, giving it a wide berth as she grabbed a fresh blanket from the hall and settled on the couch.
Early the next morning, Eliana rose and carted the kids off to school. She already knew that Bea would be in her shop and Milo would be home. She often noticed him on Mondays, working with the bees.
There was no fence separating their properties, so Eliana moved into his line of vision and waved, too nervous to wander closer. She knew bees were a vital part of the ecosystem, and she loved honey as much as the next person, but she wasn’t particularly keen on getting stung.
Milo noticed her after a moment and waved back, pausing when she beckoned for him to move closer. He glanced around, nearly turning a full circle, before pointing at himself. When Eliana nodded, he held up a hand with all five fingers splayed. She flashed him a thumbs-up and turned her back, walking along the tree line, gathering loose limbs and twigs.
She had a decent-looking pile started when Milo appeared at her side.
“Eliana,” he greeted. “Did you need me?”
She glanced up . . . up . . . up. She knew Milo had some kind of fancy business job—he was always coming and going in full, tailored suits—but he didn’tlooklike a businessman. With wide shoulders, a scruffy jaw, and a buzzedhead, he looked like a . . . biker. Or a lumberjack. His honey-colored eyes were open and quizzical when she met his gaze, and she grimaced at the knowledge she needed to share.
“Yes, I need to talk to you . . . but let’s move somewhere else. Can we sit on the porch?”
“Sure,” Milo nodded, confusion marring his brow. Thinking back on the years they’d lived beside one another, Eliana couldn’t remember a single instance in which they’d talked privately. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he must be thinking.
They settled on either side of her outdoor table, and she sighed deeply at his look of earnest attention. She cursed Bea mentally for not only betraying this sweet man but for forcing Eliana to be the one to convey the news.
“This is going to seem like an odd question . . . but where were you Friday night?”
“Uh,” Milo blinked. “I went to visit my grandma. She’s in a nursing home and hasn’t been doing super well, so I’ve been spending most of my free time up there.”
Eliana closed her eyes slowly, adding a third curse to the mix. “I’m so sorry, Milo.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “She lived a good life, and she’s not suffering. I’m not even sure she can hear me, but I enjoy talking to her. Reminding her of the fun we used to have.”
Eliana’s chest clenched.How the hell was she supposed to tell him now?
“I’m sorry. That’s clearly not why you asked to talk.” He waved a hand between them. “Please continue.”
She took another deep breath and released it quickly as she asked, “And where was Bea?”
“She, uh, wasn’t feeling well.” Milo glanced away, somethingoffabout his expression. Almost . . . angry.Did healready know?She squinted, trying to read him, but when he looked back, his expression was clear. “She opted to stay home and rest.”
“And do you think she was telling the truth?”
He narrowed his eyes, cocking his head slightly to the right. “What are you implying?”
Eliana glanced down at her hands, where she was twirling a small twig between her fingers. Then she lifted her gaze, offering him the simple respect of her eyes, something she wished she’d received when finding out the truth. “I’m not implying anything, Milo. I’m asking if you truly believed her, or . . . if you’re covering for her.”
“Covering for her?” He repeated, his brows knitting. “Covering for what?”
“For the affair she’s been having with Jesse,” she blurted, eyeing him carefully for the smallest sign of deception. If Jesse and Bea both felt comfortable enough to lie freely, why should she simply assume Milo was any different?
His eyes flew wide, pupils dilating as he blinked quickly. He shook his head, his voice cracking as he bit out the words, “That’s not true.”
Her lips twisted in a grimace as she watched the color leave his tanned cheeks. Nobody was this good an actor. “I assure you, it is.”
He was still shaking his head as he climbed to his feet and began pacing her back porch like a tiger trapped in a cage. “It’s not possible. It can’t be. I don’t know what’s happening right now, but why would you accuse them of this? Bea is yourfriend. How could you?—”
“What happened to the rule about not meeting at home?”Bea’s voice trilled through Eliana’s phone speaker, her giggle filling the space around them.
Milo paled as he slid back down into the seat, his horrified eyes staring at the tiny device of destruction in Eliana’s hand. They sat quietly, both listening as the short clip played—the only recording Eliana had managed to retain from that night.
“I’m going to kill him,” Milo growled once the recordingended, running a hand over his mouth.
