“Don’t worry. We won’t stay. Look, go to the waterfall. I’ll be there in an hour with the car. We’ll take our chances with the roads.” I’m shaking my head, so he kisses me. “I’ve been with her for a long time, and I’m still alive, if that makes you feel any better.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Please. I love you, Brie. I’ll be there soon.”
“Why can’t we leave now?”
“No, I need to explain to her what’s happening. I owe her that much. Just go to the waterfall. You’ll be safe, I promise.” He hands me the torch and walks to the open door. For the first time, I can smell smoke. I wonder if the wind has changed. “It will all be over soon.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I hate her.
It’s a strange feeling. I can’t remember truly hating anyone, except maybe a politician or two, since I became an adult. And this isn’t a sulky, childish hatred. It’s deep, primal, cellular. I want her to suffer for what she’s done to me. I want her to be in pain. I want her to beg for mercy. I want her to regret everything she’s done, every petty cruelty.
I’m walking along the road with my pack, but I feel too exposed, so when I see the trailhead, I take it. I’m soon under the canopy of trees, walking through the dark forest. I feel a rush of energy. This is it.It’s over.I pick up my pace. I’m reminded of how I felt when I finished my exams at school—that same lightness, that freedom.
“Can I walk with you?”
I yell in surprise, jumping off the trail, as if I’d seen a wolf coming towards me. But it isn’t a wolf.
It’s much worse. It’s Grace.
I shine my torch into her eyes, and she blinks and blocks the light with her hand.
“Go away!” I think of the knife in my pack. Can I get it out in time?
“I’m unarmed. I promise. That was just a test,” Grace says. “I wanted to see how you’d react. Can you lower that? I just want to talk.”
I stay frozen, thinking of how I can get away. I could sprint into the woods, but I’d probably break my neck. I could tackle her, but that somehow seems ridiculous now that she’s standing in front of me, frail and quiet.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m leaving. Bradley’s leaving.”
“Goodness me, you are innocent, aren’t you?” She looks at me in wonder. “What must it be like to see the world through your eyes? It must be unicorns and rainbows.”
“You’re a—” I search for the right word. “You’re a monster. You want to punish me.”
She angles her head. “Why would I ever want to punish you?”
I search for a reply, but decide to ignore her. I don’t need to play her games. I set off walking again, lengthening my stride so she’ll have trouble keeping up.
“Come on, Brie.” She half-jogs behind me. “I need to explain myself.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“It’s time we put our cards on the table. I know you’re sleeping with my husband. I know you know about my little affair, too. Not that I tried to hide it.”
“What affair?”
“It’s written all over your face every time I see you together. Bradley seduced you, and you fell for it.”
If Grace has proof of the affair, he’ll end up with nothing. Is that why she’s here? Is she trying to coax a confession out of me? Maybe she has a recorder in her pocket.
“You’re crazy.”
“Don’t change the subject. I know Bradley. He has a voracious appetite, and I’m not sure it’s ever been limited tojust one person. God knows he’s run through that English department of his. You know that’s the reason he didn’t get tenure? It’s not a scandal, exactly. It was always consensual. He just left a trail of broken hearts.” Her breathing is heavy, but she keeps talking. “We still make love, you know, even though he’s a cheat. Even though we’re both cheats. We’ve made love since you’ve been here, too. It’s a game to us.”
She’s a storyteller, I say to myself. And what else is a storyteller but a professional liar?
