Dirty Red (Love Me With Lies)(45)

“Oh, they’re around,” she said, waving off his question.

“Around here?”

“My father lives here. My mother lives in New York.”

“Do you see him often?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

Another f*cked up family, no doubt. I almost nodded in support.

“I wish I had more time,” she said quickly. “I’ve just been so busy with the move. We’re very close.”

Her mouth was open to deliver another lie, when our server arrived with the food. A shame. I wanted to hear it. The rest of the meal was accompanied by small talk. So, she was close to her father? Must be nice.





Chapter Twenty-OnePresent



Caleb had hidden the boat from me. What else is he hiding? The knowledge that there could be more is rusting my brain. It’s all I can think about, until I am practically choking on my suspicion. I’ve been frowning so much I’m going to need a Botox shot at the end of this. One thing is certain: I need to find out if there is more, even if that means breaking his code of privacy. Caleb hates anyone in his office if he isn’t there. I’ve always given him his space, seeing that the entire rest of the house is mine, but tonight calls for snooping. I let Sam go home as soon as he puts Estella down. Normally, I make him stay for a few hours and watch TV with me, but as soon as seven o’clock comes, I practically shove him out the door.

I open the door to his office still chewing on my celery stick and flick on the light. I hardly ever come in here. The whole room smells of him. I breathe deeply and immediately feel like crying. I used to get to cuddle up to that smell every night, and now…

I eye the stacks of books piled everywhere. I don’t really know when he finds the time to read. When he is home with us, he is cooking and interacting. Despite the fact that there is always a book lying around the house, I’ve never actually seen him read. Once, I’d been tidying up, putting the books that he scattered around the house back in his office, when his bookmark had fallen from one of the novels I was carrying. Bending to retrieve it from the floor, I’d found what looked like a penny — or at least it used to be a penny. Now, it had a message about kissing stamped on it. It was an odd shape too, bent slightly and elongated. I’d stuck it back in his book and the next time I was out, I’d picked him up a real bookmark. It was leather, imported from Italy. I paid fifty dollars to the salesman, thinking Caleb was going to be so impressed at my thoughtfulness. When I’d presented it to him that night at dinner, he’d smiled politely and thanked me, showing none of the enthusiasm I’d expected.

“I just thought you needed one. You use that weird penny, and it keeps falling out — “

His eyes had immediately snapped to my face. “Where is it? You didn’t throw it away, did you?” I’d blinked at him, confused.

“No, it’s in your office.” I couldn’t hide the hurt from my voice. His eyes had softened, and he’d come around the table to kiss my cheek.

“Thank you, Leah. It was a good idea — really. I needed something better to use to remind me of my place.”

“Your place?”

“In the book.” He’d smiled.

I’d never seen the penny again, but I had the feeling he’d stowed it somewhere for safekeeping. Caleb was strangely sentimental.



Pushing aside a pile of books on the floor, I go to his drawers first and begin pulling out papers. Bills, work crap — nothing important. The filing cabinet was next. I browse through each file folder, reading them out loud.

“College, Contractors, Deeds to houses, Discover Card…”

I flip back to Deeds to houses. We only had one house, aside from Caleb’s condo, which he insisted on keeping. There were three. The first address was for our house, the second for his condo, and the third…

I sit down as my eyes rove over each word … each name. I feel like I am trying to dig through glass. My brain is at a disconnect with my eyes. I force myself to read. By the time I am done, my eyes can no longer focus on anything. I lay my head on his desk, the papers still clutched in my hand. I’m having trouble breathing. I start to cry, but not self-pitying tears: tears of anger. I cannot believe he did this to me. I cannot.

I stand up so filled with rage. I am ready to do something reckless. I pick up the phone to call him — to scream at him. I hang up before I dial. I double over, clutching my stomach and a moan rumbles from my lips. How can this hurt so much? There have been worse things done to me. I hurt. I hurt so much. I want someone to cut my heart out just so I don’t have to feel this. He promised he would never hurt me. He promised to take care of me.

I knew he never loved me like he loved her, but I wanted him anyway. I knew his love for me was conditional, but I wanted him anyway. I knew I was second choice, but I wanted him anyway. But, this was too much. Stumbling from his office and into the foyer, I look around my mansion, my beautiful little world. Had I created this to cover up the stench of my life? A filigree egg sits on a table near the door. It's an antique that Caleb bought for me on a trip we took to Cape Cod. It cost him five thousand dollars. I pick it up and fling it across the room, screaming as I do. It smashes against the tile, skittering every way, like my life.

I walk to our wedding picture, which is hanging above the sofa. I consider it for a moment, remembering the day — supposedly the happiest day of my life. I grab the broom, which is leaning against a wall, and smash the handle as hard as I can into the glass frame. The picture comes off the wall, crashing over furniture and landing face down on the coffee table.