Chapter 8
“For a conference.”
“And you took the day off to see her.”
Lucas nodded.
I waited for him to say more.
He didn’t.
That was when I understood something I wish I had not already learned once that night.
Silence could lie too.
“What happened?”
“We had lunch.”
I stared at him.
He looked back.
I waited.
“You took fourteen hours off for lunch.”
“We talked afterward.”
“Where?”
“We walked.”
“Where?”
“Downtown.”
“And then?”
He swallowed.
I watched his throat move.
“And then what, Lucas?”
He said my name.
I don’t know if I had ever hated the sound of it before.
“Don’t.”
“I’m trying to tell you.”
“No. You’re trying to give me only the truth I can force out of you.”
His eyes filled.
Mine did not.
Not yet.
I think part of me was still too shocked to cry.
I placed my phone on the table.
“Unlock yours.”
Lucas froze.
That was enough.
“Unlock it.”
“I deleted the messages.”
Something inside me broke.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
It simply gave way.
“You deleted them.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“Before you came home?”
“Yes.”
“So you knew.”
“I knew what it looked like.”
I stared at him.
“What it looked like?”
“I knew you would be hurt.”
“That is not the same sentence.”
Lucas rubbed his forehead.
I could barely look at him.
“Did you kiss her?”
He said nothing.
“Lucas.”
“Yes.”
The word was tiny.
It hit like a car.
I looked toward the sink.
The dishwasher.
The refrigerator.
The yellow dish towel hanging from the oven.
I remember those things more clearly than I remember breathing.
Maybe because objects remain themselves when people stop being who you thought they were.
“How many times?”
“Once.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“Only today?”
“Yes.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
His answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
I looked at him.
He looked back.
And for the first time that evening, I realized I had no method left for distinguishing truth from performance.
Maybe he was telling me the truth.
Maybe he had learned to lie better than I had ever imagined.
“How am I supposed to believe you?”
He opened his mouth.
I shook my head.
“No. Really. Tell me how.”
He had no answer.
That was the cruelest thing about betrayal.
The person who destroyed trust was suddenly asking trust to prove itself.
Lucas whispered, “Nothing happened beyond the kiss.”