AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’d get drunk and forget all about her. That was his way. He could only focus on what was in front of him; it drew all of him. All of his attention, all of his energy. It was like he slipped into a trance when he was coding, when he was partying, when he was doing whatever it was he was doing. And the world around him disappeared completely. When you were in the high beam of his vision, there was nothing else. When you were not, you didn’t even exist. Or so it seemed. She envied him that focus.
It’s not focus, her lesser self whispered.It’s selfishness. He doesn’t think or care about anything that’s not feeding his ego in that moment.
Footsteps on the stairs, slow and measured, the wood creaking.
Occasionally, he surprised her, remembering a date she was sure he’d forgotten. An act of consideration or kindness she didn’t expect. Coming home early with takeout for a movie night, or sweeping her away on a romantic weekend.
Yes.That small voice again.Occasionally, he steps out of himself and remembers he has a wife. A wife who had her second miscarriage three months ago. A wife who is having a migraine for the first time in a decade.
A wife who has made a horrible mistake she deeply regrets. Sort of.
The pain. It pulsated behind her eyes. When she closed them she saw a field of too-bright stars, one that swirled like a galaxy.
Those footsteps were moving down the hall toward the door.
It was probably Hannah, coming to check on her. She wished they were closer. But Hannah seemed to hold her at arm’s length—always kind, always polite, just never crossing that line to real friendship. Or maybe it was Liza. Maybe Liza held Hannah away because—well, because maybe she didn’t know how to be close to women. That was the truth, wasn’t it? Her mother was gone; she didn’t have any sisters. The few women she’d thought were true friends had turned out not to be.
It was quiet again. She heard Mako laughing again downstairs, voice booming through the floorboards. Whatever had been bothering him earlier forgotten, or locked away. She thought she heard Hannah, too. But maybe that was Cricket. Maybe there hadn’t been anyone on the stairs, after all.
She closed her eyes again, focused on her breath, allowed the tension to leave her shoulders, her forehead. The edges of the migraine were starting to soften. Maybe she’d be fine by morning.
Liza almost didn’t even hear it at first as the door to the room softly creaked open. When she opened her eyes, there was the shadow of a figure there.
“Hi?” she said, squinting through the darkness, through the pain. “Who’s there?”
Was she dreaming? Sometimes her headaches played tricks—vivid dreams and strange imaginings.
When she opened her eyes, there wasn’t anyone there but the door stood slightly ajar. It had been closed before, hadn’t it?
Beside her, the phone buzzed. She reached for it.
The words in the bubble on the screen made her heart stop:
I’m here.
The number was unknown to her, no name attached. Different from the number of the text yesterday. She’d blocked that one.
Who is this?she typed, hands shaking. The pain in her head ratcheted tighter.
I’m here.
Where?
I’m in the guest cabin, north of the house.
What? Was that even fucking possible? She forced herself to stand, and moved unsteadily toward the window. The guest cottage. She’d told the host that they probably wouldn’t even need to use it. He’d pointed it out to her when he’d carried the luggage upstairs for her. She looked at the window through the darkness.
There.
A light was glowing in the window. Oh my god. Her whole body was shaking now.
I’m going to call the police.
No. You’re not. You have something that belongs to me. You’re going to come out here and talk to me, Liza.
She felt a lash of anger, a boldness. She didn’t deserve this. Not for one mistake. Whatshe haddid not belong to him. It belonged toher.
Nausea was a roil in her gut, rising up her throat.
