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“Sweets,” Kas brings our intertwined hands to his lips and places a soft kiss on mine. “Lila is just being cautious in case the police look into her phone records. As an employee at Serendipity, it doesn’t look suspicious if she and I communicate. But after what happened to you, it’ll look out of the ordinary if the two of you talk or text a lot. Especially after Mark’s funeral. What could you possibly have to talk about now, when everyone working with the both of you could swear that your relationship was strained at best?”
I contemplate his words, and yeah, he’s right. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, though—especially not when she’s tried to come between us before.
“Why did you fill Kas with lies after his accident? Why did you turn him against me?” Only now that I’ve asked do I realize how much I need this answered.
I already know that Lila has been living with a lot of abuse from her husband, which is why she’s lashed out at me all these years. Although I get it, I still need to know why she used Kas like that—why she helped Neil break me.
Even though it’s only been a few days since I had my long talk with Nina, Coen’s mom, it feels longer. I haven’t been in the basement since Coen removed all of Neil’s nails. As far as I’m aware, only Alec has been down there.
All my life, I’ve tried to be a good person. I know I haven’t always succeeded, but trying still counts, right? And this… What I’ve done to Neil isn’t good, so why don’t I feel any genuine remorse? Well, I also regret asking Coen to torture Neil. The thing is, I don’t regret it because it’s a cruel thing to do. I regret it because of how it affected me.
Even so, where I might have had doubts if we’d make it through this, I know now with all my heart that we will. Why do I know this? Because I motherfucking will it. It’s the only acceptable outcome.
“Honestly, I did it because…” I watch Lila’s shoulders deflate as she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “Well, quite frankly, because I wanted to. Mia, you’ve been a thorn in my side for so long that I allowed myself to be petty. I’m not proud of it. As much as it wronged you, it’s not you I owe an apology, though.” She doesn’t sound as sure of herself as she admits how selfish her reason was for playing with Kas’ memories.
I keep waiting for my anger to lash out at her like a lethal viper, but it doesn’t move inside me. She’s right. I’m not the one who’s owed an apology. Yes, she wronged me, but since she didn’t owe me anything, that’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. Kas, on the other hand, was an innocent bystander that didn’t deserve to be toyed with—and if the regretful expression bordering on sorrow on Lila’s face is anything to go by, then she’s feeling the same way.
“Kas, I’m sincerely sorry that I used you to get back at Mia and lied to you. I can’t ever apologize enough, but I hope you believe how remorseful I am. I don’t know if it means anything to you, but to me, it turned into something more, and I really did—do—consider you a friend.”
Next to me, Kas shuffles uncomfortably under Lila’s gaze, and I can’t say that I blame him. What is he even supposed to say to that?
Whatever I imagine he might retort with isn’t remotely close to what he says. “Sweets, can you give us a moment?”
Not at all prepared for that request, I feel like my ankles might give out on me as I walk out of Lila’s living room. Closing her white French doors behind me, I contemplate what to do, and without making a conscious decision, I let my feet carry me into another room.
It looks like a den. The room is half the size of the living room, but it has a freaking fireplace. The walls are white, but the couch, chair, table, and decorations are pale yellow. There are frames with dried sunflowers on the walls, completing the color scheme she has going on. I begrudgingly admit to myself that I like it. It’s pretty. The flatscreen TV is almost taking up an entire wall, making me wonder if that’s even comfortable to look at since the couch isn’t more than five to seven feet away.
During my snoop, I come across wedding pictures of the Rileys. While I look through the photo album, I almost feel like an intruder, watching what I have to imagine was a better time for them. I badly want to ask Lila what happened. Surely it’s not just my presence in their lives that ruined not only their marriage but their lives as well. It’s far from the first time I’m contemplating this, and it’s not just out of guilt, as I first assumed. I’m genuinely curious… No, that’s not the right word.
Getting the answer wouldn’t merely satisfy my curiosity, it’s as if I crave the answer. I know my mom feels I’ve ruined her life, ridiculing her by choosing to be a stripper. Maybe there’s some connection to needing to know that I didn’t ruin anything for Lila as well. I already know I won’t ever ask her because I’m too scared of what the answer would be.
Since she divulged how she’s gone out of her way for us to look nothing alike, I’ve known that I played a part in breaking her world. Obviously, I did it unknowingly, and maybe I’m not even really to blame since it was Neil who did it all and not me. But I never took a second to understand Lila, or hell, to try to talk to her. In my mind, she took the role of villain. Content with the part I’d cast her in, I never looked closely at anything. I felt righteous in my dislike and justified in sticking my head in the sand.
Sighing, I admit to myself that I’ve become too good at that, which is ironic. If anyone asked me if I considered myself a passive person, I would have said no. But I am, aren’t I?
Turning another page in the photo album, I feel as though the air has been punched from my lungs. “What?” I gasp as I let my fingers do the walking across the picture that’s right in front of me.
This one isn’t just of Lila and Neil, it’s of the entire wedding party. And next to Neil is Luis, my German regular—former regular—and standing beside him is Mark.
Without a second thought, I tear the picture from the page, not fully understanding why it feels like I’ve stumbled across something monumental. As I comb through my memories, trying to work out if I knew that Neil and Luis were friends, I keep coming up empty.
How did I not know about this?
Why didn’t I know that Luis and Martin work together?If it wasn’t for Luis telling me just before Christmas, I would never have known.
Or that Luis was Neil’s best man?
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I’m confused why this seems like such a big deal. After all, I knew that Mark and Neil used to be friends, and when Neil kept forcing me to work Wednesdays, Mark called Luis. Maybe I should have pieced together earlier that they all had a past together beyond Serendipity. Although, that doesn’t explain why I never heard Mark talk about Luis.
“Why did you never tell me this?” I whisper into the empty room, wishing more than ever that Mark could explain this to me.
The sound of a door opening and closing somewhere in the house spurs me into action. I quickly fold up the picture I tore from the album and hide it in my bra. Then I put the album back on the shelf I took it from and casually walk over to the window so I can look across the garden.
Even though I keep having this prickly feeling like someone is watching me, there’s no one to be seen every time I turn around. I’ve almost convinced myself that it’s my guilty conscience for snooping that’s playing tricks on me until I hear a phone ringing not too far away. It sounds like the ringing is coming from the hall, but as soon as I make it close to the door, the ringing stops.
Then it picks up again, and it’s only now that I notice the ringtone is ‘Video Phone’ by Beyonce. Bile rises in my throat as I remember that’s the song that was playing when I—Amanda—no, it was me, damn it. I was the one who ground Luis to orgasm to the beat of this very song.
I walk down the hallway, following the music, when I see a shadow disappearing around a corner.
