Lie, Lie Again(105)

She resumed her spot on the sofa and picked up the book. A few pages in, a note fell out, but before she could open it, a knock sounded at the door. Good Lord. Setting the note on the table, she crept to the peephole, her mind racing with what she would say if it was Jonathan.

But it wasn’t him.

It was Lily.

Exhaling, she opened the door.

Lily stood in front of her, draped in the horrible tunic she’d first seen her in at the Coffee Zombie. The poor thing resembled a zombie, with her colorless face and wide eyes. “It was Hugh.” Her voice sounded like her throat had been scrubbed with sandpaper. “The man you cried about is Hugh.”

Sylvia only nodded. Lily had a firm grip on her keys, as though she might decide to use them as a weapon. And the crazed look in her eyes? Well, there was really no telling what she was capable of. Best to handle this tactfully. She opened the door, and Lily stepped inside. Tension flitted through the room, darting here and there, as though wondering whether to crash-land or simply drift out the door. It wasn’t emanating from Sylvia, of course. Her feelings were tucked casually in her pocket. Revealing the truth to Lily was as uncomplicated as righting a fallen chair. What would be uncomfortable was righting a fallen Lily. Sylvia prayed she wouldn’t do something dramatic, like faint.

“There are no words to express my regret at not discovering he was married. I am truly sorry,” Sylvia said.

Lily’s expression tore into a grimace. “I found a phone. There were pictures,” she said, her voice growing louder. “They were of you!” She shook her head wildly, the keys still tight in her grasp. “I should hate you!”

Sylvia stepped toward the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “He lied to me, too, so directing any hate toward me is useless. Here, sit. We should discuss this like adults.”

She pressed her hands to her temples, her keys knotted through her fingers. “I don’t know! I don’t know! Someone is lying!” Dropping her hands to her sides and letting the keys fall to the table, she said, “I texted him before I came over. He knows I’m here.” Her voice was fragile, and she sank into the chair Sylvia offered. “I told him you invited me over for a glass of wine. The baby is at my mom’s house. I needed to know the truth.” Her lips quivered.

“I hate to say it, but you know already. He lied to both of us. He cheated on you.”

Lily’s face twisted and contorted—the quiet before the storm of tears that rained down her face. She gripped the edge of the table and opened her mouth to scream, but the noise that emerged was nothing more than a croak. It was then that she slid from her chair in a heap onto the floor. Her body shook with sobs.

There was really nothing to do but wait it out. Sylvia knew better than to offer a comforting touch. If she were married, she wouldn’t want her husband’s lover to touch her. As her wails softened to whimpers, Sylvia said, “When I came to your home with a gift that day, it was so I could see for myself that what I suspected was real. I needed to know the truth also.” She spoke calmly, hoping Lily would listen. “And I wanted to hate you too. I really did. It would be so much easier if I could hold on to the idea that Hugh was in a bad marriage with a crazy wife. But you were sweet and genuine. I couldn’t help but like you. When I left, you felt like an ally. Another victim of his lies.”

Lily slowly curled herself to a sitting position, tucking her knees to her chest. She met Sylvia’s gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “Why should I believe you?”

Sylvia folded her hands on the table and began calmly. “He led me to believe his name was Hugh Martin. We would meet at an apartment that I trusted was his. Turns out, it belongs to some guy named Sammy. When we saw you at the coffee shop, he told me you were an unstable ex and he had to pretend we were coworkers or you might come unhinged. And then he told me Hunter was a Pomeranian.” She eyed her carefully, knowing those last words had the power to sway Lily’s beliefs.

“What?” she spat. “He said our baby is a dog?” She leaped to her feet and gripped the back of the chair. For a second, Sylvia thought she might pick it up and chuck it across the room. Such a powerful move for little Lily.

“The things he has done sicken me.” Sylvia looked up, her eyes searching. “He’s a skilled liar. To be honest, the man terrifies me.”

“Well, he’s on his way here. Either that, or he’ll buy a one-way ticket to Mexico. I don’t even know him anymore.” Lily shook her head, a vacant look in her eyes. “What will I say to him? I don’t know if I want to kill him or beg him to fix things. Go to a good therapist.”

“Murder is never a good option, though I don’t know that counseling will work either. Once a cheater, always a cheater.” Sylvia met Lily’s eyes with her piercing blue stare, punctuating her point. With a hesitant shrug, she added, “But I’ve been wrong about people before. When confronted with the real threat of losing you, he may change, right?” She scrunched up her face apologetically.

“It’s getting dark outside. It looks like it might start to rain again,” Lily said in a hollow voice.

A chill ran through Sylvia. Lily seemed more fragile than ever, though not like she would crack, more like she would burst.

They sat in a cold silence and waited.

The trilling of a phone cut through the quiet, and Sylvia grabbed for her cell, spinning it toward her. “Hello?”