I can't answer. I'm staring at the photos, at the evidence of everything I suspected but he told me I was imagining. My husband is having an affair with his stepsister. My life is officially a Jerry Springer episode.
“Julie?” Marcus's voice comes through the phone. "Are you still there?"
"I'm here," I manage.
"I followed them back to your house and they went inside. Do you want me to continue surveillance?"
I look at Ryan and Jamie. They're both watching me, waiting. "Yes," I say. "But we're coming there."
"I'm sorry?"
"We're coming to the house. I need to see this for myself."
“Julie, I don't think that's a good idea?—"
"I don't care what you think." My voice is steady now, cold and clear. "We'll be there in thirty minutes."
There's a long pause. Then Marcus sighs. "I’ll be here. But before we hang up, there’s something else I found out today that you need to know before you go storming in there.”
I listen carefully as he tells me something I never knew. Something I can use. When I hang up, Jamie and Ryan are staring at me. "We're going to the house," I say. "Right now. I need to see what they do. I need to see them together and blow this up once and for all."
"Julie—" Jamie starts.
"No. I'm done waiting. I'm done hiding. I'm done letting him do this to me." I grab my jacket from the back of the chair. “This ends now. You don't have to come with me. But I'm going."
Ryan stands. "Then we're all going."
Jamie nods. "Let's go."
We pile into Ryan's truck. He drives fast, weaving through traffic, and I sit in the passenger seat with my hands clenched in my lap, thinking of those photos.
Devon wearing my shoes. Asher not wearing his ring. They’re both sick.
I think about the therapy session where Dr. Reeves blamed me for everything. I think about the anniversary dinner whereAsher left me alone. I think about all the nights he spent in Devon's room, all the times he chose her over me, all the ways he made me feel like I was crazy for noticing what was right in front of my face.
Fuck him.
I wasn't crazy. I was right.
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
ASHER
I checkJulie's location one more time before I set my phone down on the kitchen counter. The little blue dot sits exactly where it should be: San Juan Island. Perfect. I exhale and feel the tension release from my shoulders.
The house feels different without her in it. Lighter. Like I can finally breathe without that constant weight of her presence, her anxiety, her questions, her fuckingneediness, pressing down on everything. I pour myself a scotch and take a long drink. The burn feels right. Celebratory.
The permanent tension that's been living in my jaw for months has finally eased. And tonight, I’m doing something for myself. I finish the scotch and set the glass in the sink. Then I walk back to the counter and look at my wedding ring sitting there next to my keys.
I took it off yesterday. Just slipped it off my finger and set it down, and it felt like shedding a skin I’d been in for too long. I look at it for a long moment. Then I pick up my keys and leave the ring exactly where it is.
I'm taking Devon to Canlis. The same restaurant where my father took Julie and me for that excruciating dinner where he vetted her like she was applying for a job. I'm going to sit where my father sat, with Devon across from me where Julie sat, and I'm going to do exactly what he wouldn't approve of.
It's perfect. It's a fuck-you to his manipulation and to every decision he made for me. He created this situation by making me feel like I had to prove myself worthy of his empire by marrying the right kind of woman.
I jumped through his hoops, did the work, and married the perfect girl. I did everything he asked. And now that he’s dead and gone, I’m going to do what I want.
