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“I’m in love with Eric and nobody can tell me shit!” I cry, raking a hand through my hair. “When’s he coming back? I need to know! Please!”
Carter’s eyes widen and he immediately blurts, “December tenth.”
Finally! A fucking answer.
“Thank you,” I say. “Where’s he gonna live?”
“His lease was up on the condo, but he’s renewing it... for now. He didn’t tell you?”
She turns to me. “We had to do it for him, but he’ll be in the same place for now.”
I stand and pull at my hair. “You seriously kept all of this from me?”
“No, we weren’tkeepinganything from you. I didn’t know—until today—that you werethismiserable about Eric. Damn, Chris. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know how to feel. I’m elated that the love of my life is coming back in less than a month, but I’m also extremely upset that Taryn wants me to leave him alone, that she kept all this from me so I would back off, that she’d lie about having known about his homecoming that I had to come here and pitch a bitch fit to find out the truth.
As I gather my purse and head toward the front door, I turn around and say to Taryn, “Don’t forget that your damn phone is in the fridge.”
I hear, “What the fuck?” from Carter as I walk out.
I get into my car and slam the door.
I’m still crying for some stupid reason, but I’m blaming hormones. I’m usually not this emotional. I think all the stress and not knowing has gotten to me. My hair’s been falling out, probably from the sudden weight loss too, and I feel overall gross about myself.
As I drive, for some reason, I think back to the Mile High Rooms and how I was propositioned. Sure, it was just for sex, but it did give my self-esteem a little boost.
I head into my house, kick out of my shoes, and set my things down, then plop down on the couch. I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I’m so tired of crying, and now I’m doing it again because I feel bad for being a bitch to Taryn. She’s trying to protect her brother—and also, I feel like she has some misplaced loyalty to do so because he’s her husband’s best friend—but even Carter was more forthcoming when I asked a question. I hope whatever I did there tonight sparks a conversation between them.
I don’t want Eric coming back and feeling like I’m smothering him, so I’ve made the decision I’m not going to contact him at all. If he wants to see me, he will. If I don’t hear from him, then I can truly move on.
It’s going to be a long three weeks.
***
“Idon’t understandhow this is happening!” Lance says, running a hand over his shaved head. “I didn’t do this!”
“We know, Mr. Johnson. We’re going to challenge the DA’s evidence when we get to court.” Melinda pats him on the shoulder.
“How did they even have enough to indict me?”
“The lineup photo and the fact you have no alibi,” I answer. “But it’s weak and flimsy.”
He blows out a breath and sits back in the chair. “But my cell phone records show I was at my house.”
“You could have left it there while committing the robbery,” I say.
He shoots me a filthy look. “I didn’t.”
“I know that, we all know that. Hey, I just thought of something. Do you have a doorbell camera?” I ask.
“Yeah, why?”
“That would show what time you got home from work that night and that you never left,” I offer.
“Yes, but he could have left out a back door or a window to do the crime.” Melinda holds her hands up. “Even though we know you didn’t.”
“I don’t really have a back door. It’s a two-bedroom apartment with a balcony.”
