Page 24 of The Liar

“No,” I admitted. “So I can’t predict what will be inconvenient versus completely screwing up his operation beyond repair, and I don’t want Ortez to go free if there’s a chance to lock him away.”

She pressed her lips together. “We might need to learn how high the stakes currently are. What’s option two?”

“Option two is that I pretend nothing is amiss and continue acting like I’m happily married for however long it takes him to complete his assignment.”

“Which could be months or years.”

An unpleasant prospect. I also wasn’t sure I was a good enough actor to convince people that nothing had changed. My more casual acquaintances, sure, but my closer friends and family would notice something amiss.

“Option three is a combination of the two,” I continued, flattening my palms against the sides of the mug to warm them. “I let people believe we’re together but one of us secretly moves out. There’s another apartment available for rent in our building. Perhaps he could move in there and no one would notice.”

“Other than your family,” she pointed out.

“Yeah.” I sighed. “There’s no getting around that.”

Hallie hummed in thought and sipped her tea. “From what I know of you, option two isn’t really an option.Whatever his reasons, West hurt you.” Her eyes flashed in a rare show of temper. “He married you under false pretenses. No matter how you rationalize it, I doubt you could actually go through with pretending everything is fine.”

She was right, of course. I was rational enough to understand why he did what he did, but I also knew myself well enough to realize that trying to live with him and keep up appearances would be like allowing a wound to fester.

“Option one would be satisfying.” I was willing to admit—even if only to my best friend—that I could be petty when provoked. I wanted more than anything to be able to tell West to get the hell out of my apartment and never return. It would be best for my mental health to rip off the Band-Aid. Get it over with quickly and begin healing.

“Only temporarily,” Hallie replied. “As soon as he was gone, you’d start stewing over all of the terrible things that might happen if Ortez remains at large because you were too selfish to set aside your pride.”

When I narrowed my eyes at her, she continued quickly.

“Not that you are selfish. Far from it. But that’s what you’d tell yourself.”

I groaned, placed the mug back on the ground, and buried my face in my hands. “How do you know me so well?”

She laughed. “Years of friendship and a psychology degree.”

I raised my head. “Touché. What about option three? Surely there’s a way we could make it work.”

Her forehead furrowed as she thought. “How often do you see your parents?”

“We have a monthly dinner, and other than that, it’s pretty sporadic.” I didn’t see them as much as I’d like to. Work kept me too busy. But that wasn’t a proper excuse. I should do better.

Hallie drank more of her tea, not even seeming to notice that it was still steaming. “So you put on a good face for your family dinners, and beyond that, you don’t really need to worry. But I do think that having him move out could draw too much attention. If anyone is watching him, they’ll notice if he moves his stuff and find it suspicious.”

“True.” I hadn’t considered that. My heart sank. “He’s going to have to stay.”

Hallie’s expression was sympathetic. “Unless you decide you don’t care about getting dirty cops off the street, then probably. But you could move him into the spare room. Surely he won’t argue. He should just be grateful you aren’t kicking him to the curb.”

“Ugh.” I reached for my tea and gulped, ignoring the slight burn as the hot liquid slid over my tongue and down my throat. “I won’t do it forever though.”

Having him there would only be a reminder of what I’d lost… and how stupid I’d been.

She cocked her head. “So give him a timeframe. Say he has X amount of time to break the case or you’re no longer willing to play along.”

“How long do you think he needs?” It would be easier to guess if I knew exactly who he was investigating and how he was going about it.

“He’s had four months,” she pointed out. “The first month might not have been useful, but surely, he’s had enough time to get a foothold.”

“So, I’ll give him another two.” Eight weeks. I could do that. Any longer and I might forget why I couldn’t allow myself to feel all the soft emotions he’d stirred in me in the past.

“Good girl.” She drained her mug. “So, that’s the plan?”

I nodded firmly. “Yes.”

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