Page 35 of Hush Money

But then Ravenna calls after me. “We had so much passion that I…”

She trails off, leaving me hanging. And I want to walk away. I really do. But I also want to hear this. No matter how much it hurts me. “That you what?”

“It twists you up inside.” Helpless and humorless laugh from Ravenna. “It’s addictive. It destroys you if you let it. I know you know that by now.”

I say nothing, cheeks burning.

“He’s so secretive,” she continues. “I wanted to solve him. I wanted to get to know him. But there’s no knowing him. There’re just more secrets. Worse secrets. And I never cared that he wasn’t faithful?—”

This allegation backhands me across the face. “Lucien cheated?”

Incredulous look from Ravenna. “You think I cheated? Would you cheat on a man like Lucien? Do you really think one woman is enough for a man like Lucien?”

I can’t answer. My brain is suddenly too full of images of the Viking goddess who propositioned Lucien in the casino on the ship during the thirty seconds it took for me to go to the ladies’ room. And of all the women everywhere I’ve ever been with him who cast longing glances his way and don’t care if I see them. Life with Lucien will always be like that. I know it will. Yet I somehow never thought of him as a cheater.

“I know I’m a fool, Tamsyn.” She chokes up and presses her free hand to her heart as though she’s trying to force all her erupting emotions back inside. And she’s crying again, fat and sparkling tears that make me feel sorry for her. Despite everything. Because of everything. Because I know I’d be exactly this big a mess if Lucien ever turned his face away from me. “I know it’s twisted. I’m ashamed of myself. But I’ve loved him for half my life, and Lucien and I will never be over. We’ll never let each other go. I just want you to know that.”

“Well, now I know,” I say, my voice hollow.

“Good.” She hastily turns away, giving me the feeling she’s as eager to be done with this conversation as I am. In her haste, a shower of photos hits the floor. I bend to help her without conscious thought, good manners kicking in. A bunch of them are no big deal. Ackerley decorated for Christmas. Lucien on his polo pony.

But then there are two that I don’t want to see. That I try not to see.

One is of Lucien and Ravenna smiling into each other’s eyes on a beach. Lucien looks so young. So happy. And I’m not sure he’s ever smiled at me like that.

And the other picture? A harsh close-up picture of Ravenna’s tear-stained face with a black eye and a swollen and bloodied lower lip. The unmistakable face of a battered woman.

I pick it up and stare at it, stricken and reeling.

“What the fuck is going on here?” comes Lucien’s deathly-quiet voice from the doorway, startling both of us.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LUCIEN

It takes me a beat or two to process the nightmare scenario in front of me. The two women in my life alone together in a frigid silence. Ravenna with a gleam of something disquieting in her eyes as she hastily squats and gathers up some pictures that fell on the floor. Tamsyn looking stricken and putting a lot of effort into avoiding looking at me.

“Lucien.” Tamsyn blinks and clears her throat. Still no eye contact. “I’m glad you’re back. I was just about to call you.”

“They discharged me early,” Ravenna says, glancing up at me while she continues with the pictures and puts them into their box. That gleam of whatever it was is gone now, leaving only open friendliness. This is one of the worst things about Ravenna. Her mask rarely slips. When it does, it’s never for long enough for you to get a bead on the real her. Right now, for instance, she’s a perfect peace dove. The only thing missing is an olive branch clamped in her pretty little beak. But this is not the performance that put that look on Tamsyn’s face. I know it’s not. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You succeeded,” I say, my voice clipped. “It was a hell of a surprise when the doctor called just now and told me you’d already come home. I was on my way to come get you and talk to the doctor face to face. Which is what we discussed.”

“It’s okay. I know how busy you are. I’m sure you were doing important things.” Ravenna stands, having lobbed her suitably passive-aggressive comment with the skill of Serena Williams serving at a Wimbledon final. But she moves too quickly, wobbling and pressing a hand to her bandaged forehead.

I know what she’s doing. I’ll bet Tamsyn does, too. There’s nothing quite like using a lingering injury as a distraction to get yourself out of any potential hot seats. But Tamsyn and I both reflexively reach for her to make sure she’s steady.

“I’m okay.” Ravenna waves us off with a hint of embarrassment. “I probably just need to lie down for a bit.”

“I’m sure you do,” I say, unable to keep the rough edges out of my voice. Especially considering Tamsyn’s ongoing refusal to look at me. “Which makes me wonder why you’re not resting in your room. Especially after I told you not to bother Tamsyn.” Here’s the thing. Ravenna and I have never squared off against each other. Not like this. I’ve never drawn my line in the sand and told her, You shall not pass. But times change. This is that moment. I stare her down to make sure she realizes it. “Don’t do it again. Understood?”

The lengthy pause tells me she understands perfectly well, even if her expression never changes. And the responsive gleam in her eye feels like a silent but unmistakable challenge accepted to me.

“I wanted to get my pictures. And I wanted to talk to her.” There’s a delicate pause and the perfect tinge of sadness as Ravenna puts the lid on her box. “She’s very sweet, Lucien. I see why you’re in love with her.”

Hearing the L-word spoken aloud hits me hard. For a lot of reasons. Part of me knows that Ravenna is just throwing it out there to get a reaction, so there’s that. Plus, I’ve only just admitted it to myself, much less worked up the courage to confess it to Tamsyn anytime soon. I’m not ready to have it thrown around like a Frisbee at a dog park. Especially by Ravenna.

Still, I can’t help checking Tamsyn’s reaction.

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