Page 65 of Revenge Cake

“Oh my god, no! No!” I shoot her a stern look. “Don’t you fucking tell me about my relationship amnesia again. What’s that word you use when someone is making you feel crazy?” She frowns in question. “You told me it comes from that movie from the forties about the lady with diamonds in her attic…”

Her face lights up like it always does when we talk about movies. It kills me. I can’t be reminded of all those blissful hours spent talking in her bed. It will only make me that much more frantic, and I need to keep my head if I’m going to get her to stop talking nonsense.

“Gaslight,” she says in a raised voice.

My eyes dart to hers, realizing I was zoning out and that she repeated herself. “Yes, you’re gaslighting me. You’re telling me what I really want and what I remember, and it’s making me feel crazy. It’s fucked up, Lani. Let me tell you how I feel and what I remember.”

She lowers her eyes, nodding.

Sensing an opening, I take a step closer to her. “I know that I love you. I know that I want to be with you a year from now. Ten years from now. I remember that two weeks ago I was pissed off as fuck after everything you did and…” My throat closes over at the memory of that night.

God, you’re boring! How am I just now realizing it? How have I survived a year of this? Go find yourself another girl and bore her. Better yet, find a vanilla girl like Keira who’s every bit as boring as you…

“…everything you said,” I finish with effort. “I came home that night and made a decision that would—” I halt when her head darts up. She glares at me, and something in her eyes makes me go cold. A growing sense of foreboding makes the hairs on my arm stand up.

“Is that really what you did?” she asks in a chilling voice. “You went straight home after you left my house?”

I stare at her, too dumbfounded to answer.

“You see, I heard some evidence to the contrary.”

CHAPTER 26

Past—The Phone Call

Leilani

It was an act of God. Divine intervention. A sign that the universe is not indifferent to us, and occasionally reaches out in our darkest moments, easing our sorrow with small gestures.

There’s no other way to explain why his phone called me five minutes ago.

At this precise moment.

To hear all of this.

I was in despair when he left here. I stared into that toilet bowl for what felt like a lifetime before I was finally strong enough to stand up. How could I live with myself knowing I had thrown away something so perfect? Then my phone rang, I saw his name, and I almost wept with relief, considering it a gift of mercy from the heavens.

And it was, but not in the way that I thought.

Logan and I never call each other, besides the occasional FaceTime when one of us is out of town. The few times he’s called me has been a pocket-dial, and even that I can only recall happening twice. The first time he was on his way home from class with his phone in his pocket. I remember hearing the sloshing of fabric against the speaker as he made his long strides across campus.

And the second time is right now.

I still can’t believe it as I stare at the screen of my phone, watching the timer tick past four minutes.

I knew he was with her the moment I picked up the call. I heard her high fluttery voice as she greeted him, both delighted and suspiciously unsurprised to open the door and find him outside at one thirty in the morning. They barely spoke at all before the smacking started. That god-awful sound, so surprisingly crisp through the muffled speaker. And then there was the gasping and the moaning.

Oh god, the moaning.

They’ve gone quiet for the last thirty seconds. No sounds at all. All I hear is the faint rush of feedback from the air in the room.

I imagine them holding each other, their foreheads touching, eyes shut tight. Staying still to prolong the pleasure. Logan is probably so starved for her by now that he can’t move in her for two minutes without coming.

Or thirty seconds.

Pain grips my chest at the memory of the first time we had sex. The stairwell. Is that what this is like for him? He likes novelty, and this is an even greater novelty with the added danger. He’s never cheated before. Does that make the pleasure that much more unbearable?

Where are they? Probably on a living room couch where she straddles him. They moved too quickly to have made it to a bedroom, and Logan was obviously too frantic to notice the state of his phone when he tossed it aside somewhere.

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