The Night Before(56)

My mind is spinning as it processes this new information. He’s admitted things but given no explanations. And he’s avoided the biggest one of all—the one that’s moved to the top of my list. The ring. The fucking wedding ring he keeps hidden in a bottle of Advil in his empty apartment where he brings other women.

There is something about what now sits between us. Facts without a conclusion. Facts without the truth. It’s a puzzle with missing pieces—the important ones that leave nothing but ambiguity in their absence. The steel begins to melt. The strength, subsiding now.

“I can’t do this,” I say. Tears come fast. Giant sobs follow. And the words fly out in broken pieces, cutting me like little shards of glass. “You’re married!” Sob. “You lied about everything! You’re lying now!” Sob. “Whatever you say, I won’t know how much of a lie it is because you’ll sprinkle in small truths. Little admissions that aren’t fatal but instead give you credibility because why would you say them at all if they cast you in a bad light? I know how this goes!” Sob. “I’ve been here before. I’ve been with the best of them … better than you!”

Hysteria sets in. Jonathan’s face refreezes. The rage is now liquid that seeps from my skin. I know he can see it.

“How can you do this to people? It’s cruel! It’s so fucking cruel!”

That word is new to me. It’s a word I learned from Dr. Brody.

Can’t you see his cruelty?

He was talking about another liar. Another man I tried to make love me. A man who bled to death at my feet. Mitch Adler. Liar. Cruel, cruel liar.

I see it now, Kevin. I see the cruelty.…

“Hold on a minute!” Jonathan says. He moves away from the counter and leans against the refrigerator. We’ve been here before.

“Things moved fast tonight—faster than either of us anticipated. Yes, I told some white lies because I’m trying to meet people here, but it’s far from cruel. Honestly, you’re way off base.”

Adrenaline now. Rage becomes fear. What the hell is this? A cover-up? Or have I done it again?

She’s so hard to love with her mountains from molehills.

“Can I explain? Please, will you do me that courtesy?”

I wipe my eyes. I hold my breath. Maybe I will die if I hold it long enough.

“Okay … I’m going to start from the beginning. Are you good? Have your drink.”

He doesn’t move closer to me. I wish I could move father away.

I hold my drink. Take a sip. The adrenaline kills it the moment it hits my blood.

“I’m from Boston. You already know that.”

“Is your mother really dead?” I blurt out. If we’re starting from the beginning, I want to know every lie. Every single one of them.

“Yes. All of that—the man who drowned. My sister. My parents—and how I met my wife. All of it’s true. And we did move to New York. And we did live out here. She kept the house. It’s on Blackberry Drive—way up north and on the west side. I don’t know why she wants to live there, but she does. It’s not my problem anymore. I hated that house, hated the commute.”

“So you did work in New York?”

“Yes! I worked in New York. The name of the firm is Klayburn Capital. It’s a small hedge fund. The headquarters are in Boston, but they have offices in New York and London. When I got divorced, I didn’t stay here. You were right about that. I moved back to Boston. I worked at the office there and lived with my father for a while. I was broken. Truly broken. I still loved her and I wanted the family we tried so hard to have.”

“So that’s the first lie—that you stayed here?”

“Yes. That’s the first lie.”

I finish my drink and pretend to be indignant. Ha! He’s admitted to a lie! But it’s so small. It’s a little baby lie. And babies can’t be cruel. Not intentionally.

“Okay,” I say. “Go on.…”

He does and I can see his demeanor change. He knows he has me. He knows what’s coming are just more baby lies. A cute little nursery school of lies.

“After about six months, they asked me to transfer back. They want to have an office in Branston for some of the older partners who have families here. It’s a better lifestyle. They asked me to open it. One year—that’s what they said. And then I can have my choice—stay here, work in New York. Or go back to Boston.”

“So you just came back. That’s why there’s no furniture.”

“Yes—I’ve only been back for seven weeks, which is why I don’t know my way around downtown. We never went to the harbor when I lived up north. I’ve spent four weeks in a hotel. Three in this apartment, which I’ve subleased for now—off the books, so who knows how long I can keep it. I can’t decide what I want to do—move to New York. Go back to Boston. And I’m working all the time.…”

“And the car…”

“A loaner. I do have a BMW. It’s in the shop. They were going to charge me for one of theirs, so I just got this one for the week. I should have said that from the start, but you didn’t ask and I didn’t want to just blurt it out.”

God … I need Dr. Brody. I need Kevin. How do I know what to believe? Yes, I have a heightened sense of perception, but then I never know what to do with the information. This is all so convenient. So perfect. And yet it all adds up like two plus two is four.