The Lies I Told(46)
You backed away, paused as if thinking that this was a mistake, and then pulled your sweater over your head and unhooked your bra.
Jesus, the way the light streamed over your white flesh. I kissed a pink nipple. A moan escaped your lips, and a shudder passed through your body as you kissed me. Whatever embers had been simmering in you had caught on fire. I’d done that. I’d made you want me.
We were naked and under the sheets minutes later as I moved on top of your body, skin to skin. You parted your legs so I could enter. You were so blissfully tight. Just like it should have been for a first time. I wondered if I was hurting you, half hoping that I wasn’t and half hoping that I was. I didn’t want you to ever forget this moment.
“Tell me you love me,” you whispered.
“I love you.”
25
MARISA
Tuesday, March 15, 2022
8:00 p.m.
The afternoon quickly turned to evening as I sat at my computer, working. By eight o’clock, I’d finished the last of the backlogged files and emailed albums off to my clients. As I stared at the last image of my last January couple, taken on the snowy grounds of the Tuckahoe estate, I thought about what Richards had said. Everyone lies.
My work at this January wedding conveyed a happy couple, ready to spend a life together. The truth was that the bride was deeply in debt and had had to use six different credit cards to pay my fee. She hadn’t told her husband-to-be about all her pending bills because she was sure he’d understand when she told him after the wedding. The groom, who’d gotten really drunk at the rehearsal dinner, had said to me in passing that he’d slept with one of the bridesmaids last year. I was not sure why he’d told me. Maybe, all dressed in black as I was, I looked like a confessor.
They are all lying.
Still, it felt good to be caught up. My brain was clear, and the weight riding on my shoulders post-accident had eased.
I lay on the couch, rolled on my side, and stared out the large window toward the city. What lies had my friends told Richards? I’d lied about Jack and the drugs. Jack had lied about being in bed with me all night. What about Jo-Jo, Kurt, Brit, and even Clare? What else still lurked in the shadows?
The walls of my apartment felt smaller, tighter. The beast inside remembered the two sips of beer. Why hadn’t I had a few more sips? If two were fine, four would’ve been all right. No one would have known.
The beast was back, whispering sweet temptations.
I reached for my phone and texted Kurt.
Me: What are you doing?
Kurt: What do you have in mind?
Me: Dinner at J.J.’s Pub. Headed there now.
Kurt: Great minds . . . already here.
I was mildly surprised he’d chosen J.J.’s Pub. This wasn’t his neck of the woods. But maybe he’d liked it. Wanted to give it another go.
It took only a few minutes to pull on cold-weather clothes and hurry out my front door. I checked the lock, three times, and then I was down the stairs and out the building’s main door. Cold air channeled by the buildings whipped across my face. Ducking, I shoved my hands in my pockets and hustled down the two-block walk to J.J.’s.
The first person I saw inside was Kurt. We’d not seen each other since my birthday party, and again it struck me as odd that he was here.
He looked up as I entered. His smile was slow to warm up, like a bulb flickering, but then he beamed out full wattage. He rose. I moved toward him easily, as I’d seen Clare do a million times while they were dating.
I leaned in, kissed him lightly on the lips. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, but a peck shared by friends. “What brings you back here?”
“Other than you? The fries. The beer. I like the place,” Kurt said. “Why’d you reach out?”
“I’ve been digging out from a backlog of files and realized I need to see other humans. I thought about you.”
He pulled out a chair, glanced toward the door. “Have a seat?”
I rested my hand on the back of the chair and noticed two menus on the table. “Are you expecting someone else?”
“I may have been stood up,” he said easily.
“You don’t sound too torn up about it.” I sat, placed my purse in the chair beside me.
“The ego is bruised, but I’ll survive.” When a waitress came to the table, he ordered another beer and a club soda for me. There’s an advantage to having a history with someone. They know where all the bodies are buried, so to speak.
“Who was the lucky girl?” I removed my jacket and felt his gaze drop to my breasts. Men always noticed them.
“A work associate,” he said. “But it looks like she had a better offer. Already a half hour late.”
“And if we’d both showed up at the same time?”
He grinned. “I’d have picked you.”
I laughed. “Good to know.”
“You’re never boring, Marisa. And maybe I subconsciously picked this place hoping I’d run into you. It was good seeing you on Friday.”
“It was nice.” Also, odd and kind of disturbing.
The waitress brought our drinks. I sipped and found the soda lacking. My nerves could have used a little calming. Beer would have been so nice. “Now that I have you, mind if I dig up the past?”
He stared at me over the rim of his iced mug, took a long drink, and then finally nodded. “Sure.”