Wish You Were Gone(85)

But was it possible to get too relaxed at this point? The knots in her shoulders felt like cannonballs.

Emma stared at the contents of her closet, her overnight bag open at her feet. The truth of the matter was, she needed Lizzie. Especially now that things with Gray were such a mess. Maybe that was selfish of her, but didn’t she have the right to be a teeny bit selfish right now? James was the one who’d royally fucked up, not her. She couldn’t hold herself responsible for every mistake he’d ever made. She couldn’t let his horrible life choices ruin both her closest friendships.

She was just going to have to figure out a way to be normal around Lizzie. To swallow what she knew and try like hell not to choke on it. Moving on. It was what Lizzie wanted her to do, and she was right. Forward was the only way through.





GRAY


Gray had barely slept the past three nights. She couldn’t believe Darnell had thought she wouldn’t want to hear his news. It was the greatest news of all time. Horrible that he’d kept it a secret from her these many years. Insane that he’d used so much of the firm’s money. But the information itself, the things Lizzie Larkin had done… it was like music to Gray’s ears.

She was finally rid of the woman. Or she would be. If only she hadn’t promised Darnell she wouldn’t tell.

That was what had really kept her up, and had distracted her all day. Should she be loyal to her husband or to her best friend? Yes, Emma would be hurt. Devastated, potentially. But she would get over it. Wasn’t it better to know? Wasn’t that, in fact, the rhetoric Emma had been spouting the last few weeks? She wanted the truth—was desperate for it—and Gray had truth to tell.

Besides, the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t really see how telling this news would be a betrayal of Darnell. Yes, she’d be breaking one, small promise, but the revelation of what he’d told her could have no blowback on him. It only re-solidified the fact that he was a good man. That he was the best of men.

Which was why, less than seventy-two hours after swearing to him that she wouldn’t tell, she was calling Emma’s number. She needed her friend back. Really, she needed her now more than ever, what with Darnell’s condition. So yes, this was a selfish act. But it was also a benevolent act. And a vengeful act. And a prideful act. It was so many things, Gray felt dizzy trying to contain them all.

The first try went to voicemail. Gray cursed under her breath as she paced her office and called again. She would keep calling until Emma picked up. And if Emma didn’t pick up, she would drive over there. Now that she’d made the decision to tell, she had to get it over with.

Finally, a connection. Some fumbling. The sound of wind whooshing. Then, “Gray?”

“Emma! Thank God. I keep trying you.”

“I know, I know, but now’s not really a good time,” Emma said, distracted. “I’m on my way to Lizzie’s. We’re going to a spa for the night.”

Alarms blared in Gray’s head. “What? Emma, no. That’s not a good idea. I need to talk to you.”

“It’s going to have to wait until I get back.” Emma’s voice was both firm and exasperated. “I’ll call you tomorrow or Sunday.”

“Emma, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to—”

“Oh, shoot. Gray, I’m getting another call.”

“Emma—”

“I have to take this. Talk to you soon.”

And she was gone.





EMMA


It was Lizzie who Emma clicked over to speak to, half hoping she was going to cancel and make the decision for her.

“Lizzie?”

“Emma, hi! Just making sure you’re still coming.” She sounded oddly manic. “We need to hit the road if we’re going to make tonight’s evening meditation.”

“I’m almost there,” Emma said.

“Great. Just leave the car on and I’ll come out. Do you have the gift card?”

“Yes.” Emma’s hackles went up out of nowhere. There was something about Lizzie always doing things on the cheap or expecting Emma to pay that got under her skin at the oddest moments. “Yes, I have the gift card.”

Emma hung up the phone and tried to shake it off. It wasn’t her money they were spending, anyway, it was a gift from James. And didn’t James owe Lizzie? Didn’t they both?

Suddenly, everything around her—inside and outside the car—went into sharp relief. Emma had heard about people having epiphanies, but she was never sure she’d had one herself. Now she was positive she’d never had one, because this clarity of vision was an entirely new experience.

What was owed to Lizzie.

Was it at all possible that Lizzie had known what was going on between James and her daughter?

The light up ahead went from yellow to red, and Emma stepped on the brake, glad to have the excuse to stop. She gripped and released the steering wheel over and over again, trying to make sense of the thoughts swirling around in her mind.

Could this be why Lizzie had tried to focus Emma’s attention on Darnell when she’d said she suspected someone had been there the night James died? Why she’d initially dissuaded Emma from looking for a mistress? Or from hiring a private investigator? Because Willow was the mistress and Lizzie knew about it?