The Ex by Freida McFadden(82)

I was very protective of Andrew when I got home. Overprotective? I don’t think so. He was my baby. My only baby. I had a duty to him. To keep him safe.

Then Joel started coming to visit us. I could tell from the look in his eyes how badly he wanted to be a father. His new girlfriend Cassie was only twenty-six. She could give him six babies if he wanted. When I asked my doctor for answers as to why I had such a traumatic delivery, he had cited my age as one of the reasons. Advanced maternal age. A risk for everything. But it was only because of Joel that I didn’t have a baby until thirty-seven. He made me wait. Then he dumped me.

It was his fault. His fault I didn’t have a uterus anymore. His fault Andrew wouldn’t have a younger brother or sister.

His goddamn fault.

So one day when he and Dean were watching television together in the apartment while Andrew was napping, I slipped his ring of keys out of his jacket pocket and went to the local hardware store to copy them. It was even easier than when I had taken Francesca’s keys.

I remembered Cassie’s peanut allergy. I knew Lydia would be the one who would get blamed if she died, especially if I slipped that homeless woman another twenty to jog her memory.

Joel was untouchable. But Cassie? It was too easy to get to Cassie.



Cassie



Cassie’s knees are trembling as she exits the baby’s bedroom. She manages to make her way to the sofa, where the three adults are chatting animatedly while Andrew gurgles happily in Anna’s arms. She collapses onto the sofa next to Joel.

He reaches out and squeezes her knee. “You okay, Cassie?”

Cassie lifts her eyes to look at Anna, who is bouncing her son slightly on her lap. Anna looks in Cassie’s direction, and her eyes darken. A shudder goes through Cassie, and she thinks she might throw up.

“Yes, Cassie,” Anna says. “You look a bit ill. Could I… offer you something to drink?”

“No!” Cassie gasps. “I… I’m fine. Just fine.”

“Good.” Anna’s lips pull up in a smile, her eyes still dark. “Let’s keep it that way.”

Cassie can’t stop picturing the dark look in Anna’s eyes even later, after they leave the apartment and go out into the brisk spring night. She shivers and Joel puts his arm around her, thinking she’s cold, but she’s not cold. She’s terrified.

I don’t want to go to jail. Not for ten years. Not for one year. Not for one month.

“You feel like sushi for dinner?” Joel asks her as they stand on the corner.

Cassie hugs her arms to her chest. She has no appetite, but her stomach rumbles. “Fine.”

He squints at her in the fading light of the evening. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she lies. “I’m fine.”

He hails a cab and gives them a familiar address. It isn’t until they’ve reached the sushi bar that Cassie realizes why the address sounded familiar. It’s the same conveyor belt sushi place where they had their first date.



Anna



On the night before Lydia was accused of poisoning Cassie, Lydia tearfully confessed everything to me in the kitchen while our dinner burned.

“I was so angry at Joel,” she murmured into the tissue clasped in her hand. “I couldn’t stand the thought of him being happy. But it was… stupid.”

“I’m sure he’d understand, Lydia,” I told her. “You’ve been going through a lot.”

Lydia cast a glance at the living room, where Dean and Pete were chatting animatedly. “You have no idea, Anna,” she said. “Constantine has been so good to you. You don’t know what it does to you…”

I didn’t point out how after my horrible breakup with Joel, I had fallen apart. And she had abandoned me. She had been a terrible friend to me. A terrible person.

“You know what you need to do,” I told her.

She looked up at me, frowning. “What?”

“You need to talk to Cassie,” I said. “Make peace with her.” I put my hand on the bottle of wine I’d brought her—the one I had known she wouldn’t touch because it was an inferior brand. “Go see her tomorrow. Bring her wine as a peace offering.”

Later, after everyone had too much to drink and were watching television in the living room, I slipped into Lydia and Pete’s bedroom. It was funny how nobody even noticed, but then again, I was the only sober one there. I didn’t dare drink if I knew I’d be responsible for Andrew later. I’ve heard horror stories about horrible fates of babies left in the care of drunk parents.

The bedroom was as expansive as the rest of their apartment. Dean and I live well, but you could fit two of our bedrooms into theirs. I sat on her bed, gasping at the softness of the bedspread. I lay down on the bed for a moment and it was heavenly. Like sleeping on a cloud. If I had this bed, I never would have developed insomnia.

Reluctantly, I sat up again and walked over to Lydia’s antique dresser. I removed one of the burner phones from my purse with a tissue from her vanity table and dropped it into one of the drawers, nestled between two pairs of designer jeans.

Then I went into the master bathroom. I thumbed open the medicine cabinet. Lydia’s sleeping pills were in there, but not just that. God, they had enough pills in there to kill a horse. I emptied three-quarters of the bottle of sleeping pills into my hand, then grabbed some of the Xanax and a bunch of Vicodin. I doubted anyone would notice when I dropped them into the bottle of wine I brought.