It was especially hard to think about Joshua Mike being involved. They realized it was likely the same year he’d inherited all that money and bought The Manor, the marina, the Minnesota Wild, though; it could make sense.
They still needed more answers. They’d both messaged Chat on LinkedIn, sending Augie’s address and begging him to come over.
Augie had been warmed, despite everything, to see his apologies and pleas from the previous week. She told herself she’d think about that later.
“I don’t understand why Trey wouldn’t come forward,” Leah said now, although they were repeating questions at this point. “It doesn’t make sense. If they were friends, why wouldn’t he tell the police to at least look into Josh Mike?”
“I don’t get it, either.” Augie again checked her phone. He still hadn’t replied.
“I just feel so, I don’t know. I feel so happyandsad.” Leah traced her tattoo. “I’m vindicated to know I was right—that there is more to the story—but it makes me sick to think if Josh Mike really was on the boat, he’s been lying and hiding all this time. Right in front of us.”
“I know. I’m so sorry, Lee. It’s twisted.”
Leah pulled the blanket higher. They were sitting longways on the couch, their legs parallel, a duvet over them.
“Have you talked to your mom or dad yet?” Augie asked. At least this question had a clear answer. Augie was also beginning to realize this was another source of the worry coursing between them: Wyatt had been cheating on Robin. Augie had been so shaken to hear it and, selfishly, could not stop thinking about Julia and Micah. Her own affair.
“No. I figured it’s best to give them space. I’m sure my dad is calling her right now, trying to get to her before anyone else.” Leah leaned back against the couch’s armrest, looking up to the ceiling.
Augie had been relieved to learn Leah already knew her dad was having an affair, that it wasn’t one more massive blow from the night—though Augie was still shocked. Apparently, Robin had discovered he was cheating months ago, and in a fit of sadness, had told Leah. Still, neither had known it was with Bill.
“I’m sure she’s freaking out. She’s always been obsessed with keeping our family intact, not breaking it up any further. I don’t know. It’s probably for the best if they split up. But my dad,Bill.” Leah covered her forehead with one hand. “I can’t say I saw it coming, but I can’t say I’m completely surprised, either. I just want my dad to be happy.”
Augie picked at her nails. While it paled in comparison to the recent revelations, Augie knew then: She had to tell Leah about New York. They were entangled in too many lies. Augie couldn’t be one more person hiding something. She owed Leah the truth.
“Lee.” She cleared her throat. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
Leah sat upright.
“No, it’s not about Lyle or Trey or anything. It’s about... me.” Her voice grew small. “It’s about something I did. In New York.”
Leah leaned forward, grabbing Augie’s calves over the blanket.
“Tell me. You know you can tell me anything.”
Augie breathed slowly. She was terrified to face what she’d done, and for Leah to judge her, for Robin to have yet another painful reality to face—but she had to get it out. So, finally, she started talking. She came clean: New York Fuckboy was not some random thirty-year-old from her team, as she’d initially said, but forty-three-year-old Micah. Julia’s husband.
Leah was quiet at first, which made Augie even more apprehensive, but she plowed forward. She told her every detail, from their first meeting at the penthouse to their first messages. That first kiss and beyond. She recounted every little gesture, every single hookup. Her voice quivered as she got to the part where it all came crashing down: the day they got caught. The day she got fired. It filled her with white-hot shame.
New York, May
Micah and Augie had established a steady routine a couple weeks after they started sleeping together. Micah would show up to Augie’s apartment after work, or on weekend afternoons when Julia went to spin class, or any night she was at a work dinner or out of town. It was both predictable and unpredictable—their bodies were familiar, but the moments they could be together still appeared and disappeared like magic. As a result, the affair felt desperate; Augie craved Micah and missed him when he was gone.
One Thursday, she was especially eager to see him. Julia had been home sick for a week, and Micah hadn’t been able to leave the house. They never texted much—it made Micah nervous—and Augie felt lonely. She got to the coffee bar at work extra early that day, waiting for him.
As usual, he’d kissed her against the fridge. But this time, it didn’t feel right. She wanted more from him—to feel like she meant more to him.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this.” Augie knew that line felt used, but she couldn’t come up with anything else. Micah had buried his head in her neck, inhaling the smell of her.
“We’ll be back to normal soon,” he murmured. He kissed behind her ear.
“This isn’t normal.” Augie wriggled away. She turned to the coffee machine, pressing the button in an attempt to distract herself. She grabbed a mug.
“Oh, Augie, come on,” he teased, reaching for her hand. “You know what I mean. You don’t want to benormal.We could never benormal.”
He pulled her into him, kissing her wetly on the mouth. Augiekissed him back for a few seconds before turning away. She didn’t want to give in that easily. She’d felt so pathetic and rejected over the last week. It had made her realize, for the first time, that she’d always be in second place. She was nowhere near as special as he’d made her feel.
“Well, whatever this is, normal or not, I don’t want it,” she said, surprised and impressed by her response. She took her coffee and left.
