Page 22 of The Liar

I snorted humorlessly. “All I have is your word for that, and sorry, but your word doesn’t carry much weight right now.”

“I’m still me.” This time, he did reach for me.

I yanked away from him. “I need space.”

I started to turn, desperate to leave the apartment, but he grabbed my shoulder.

“You can’t go.”

“I won’t ruin your precious investigation,” I snapped, tearing away from him. “Not yet, at least. I need time and space to think, and I can’t do that around you.”

“Oh.”

Was it just me, or was there a note of regret in his voice?

Keeping my back to him, I spoke again. “I may come across as practical, but I have a soft heart, and you took advantage of that.”

“I’m sorry.” To his credit, he sounded it.

“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t count for much.”

I managed to hold it together while I packed a bag and slung it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” he asked quietly as I headed for the door.

“To Hallie’s.”

“Drive safely.”

I didn’t answer. I gritted my teeth to keep from saying anything—or losing it—hurried to my car and drove on autopilot to my best friend’s apartment building. I parked in a guest space and took an elevator to her floor. I knocked on the door and, as soon as she opened it, the tears that had been building inside me burst free.

“Jo?”

I fell into Hallie’s arms, crying. She hugged me tight, stretching onto tiptoes to comfort me properly. She was much shorter than me, and I buried my face in the crook of her neck, my back heaving as I sobbed.

“There there,” she murmured, stroking my hair. “Come in and tell me what’s wrong.”

She guided me inside, closed the door behind us, and slid all three locks into place. She wrapped her arm around my waist and led me to the sofa. I flopped onto one end, and when she lowered herself down beside me, I rested my head on her shoulder.

Now that I’d started crying, I didn’t seem able to stop.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked.

I sniffed miserably. Where was I supposed to start?

The man I’d loved didn’t exist.

I’d been manipulated into believing pretty lies by a flinty-eyed liar with deceptively sweet dimples.

I wasn’t even legally married.

Not to mention the fact that, apparently, a good number of my colleagues were crooked.

But deeper than that, beyond the loss of what I’d thought was my happily-ever-after, was the fact that I’d always held a fundamental belief in the power of love. I thought I’d know my soulmate when I met them, and I’d been wrong. West was absolutely not that person. If I’d beenmistaken about that, then what else had I been wrong about?”

“Jojo. Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Do you want me to call West?”

“No.” I bolted upright. “Don’t call West.”

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