Page 102 of Begin Again

Her voice wobbles, just enough to make itbelievable.

God, she’s good.

I grip my cup tighter. I don’t want to play this game. I don’t want to sit across from her and pretend I don’t know. Pretend I don’t see the blood on her hands, don’tfeelit in every word she speaks.

“I’m planning to spend the day at his grave, of course,” she goes on, her fingers trailing idly around the rim of her cup. “But I was thinking…maybe it doesn’t have to be a sad day. I’d love it if you and Teddy joined me. We could invite my Morgan since they were so close. We could have a little get-together, just a small thing. Maybe bring some flowers, and share some stories. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

I hesitate, searching her face for any hint of insincerity.

Nothing.

No crack in her mask. No slip of the tongue. Notell.

It’s infuriating, really—how effortlessly she plays this role. The grieving widow. The doting friend. The kind-hearted woman who just wants to remember her husband. And the worst part? If I didn’t know what I knew, I might actually believe her.

I swallow, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I’ll have to check with Theo,” I say cautiously. “But I think he’d appreciate that.”

She beams.

Like she’s already won.

And maybe she has.

“Oh, that would mean so much to me. Gabriel would’ve loved it. He always said that anniversaries were for celebrating love, not mourning it. He was such a romantic, you know?”

She sighs wistfully, resting her chin on her hand. “Every single year, he’d come up with extravagant—over-the-top plans, but that was just Gabriel. One year, he rented out the entire rooftop of The Ivy for a private dinner under the stars. He said the restaurant wasn’t fancy enough on its own, so he had them decorate it with twinkling lights and candles everywhere. He even hired a string quartet to play our song.” She pauses, a dreamy smile softening her face. “No matter where we were we would always recreate our first dance toUnchained Melody.”

I sip my coffee, keeping my expression neutral. On the surface, the story is beautiful. Heartfelt. The love story that would make hopeless romantics sigh dreamily into their lattes.

But I’m not a hopeless romantic.

I’m sitting across from a woman who poisons people and calls the deaths she causes accidents.

Her voice lowers, almost conspiratorial, as she leans in a little closer. “But my favorite anniversary wasn’t the grandest one. It was probably our third or fourth, I think. He woke me up early and told me to pack an overnight bag, and I had no idea where we were going. He drove us out to this tiny cabin in the woods, just a little place he’d found on some whim. It wasn’t anything fancy—no cell service, no TV—but he brought everything to make it special. There were candles, homemade playlists, and even a little picnic he packed himself. He said he wanted us to get away from everything and just…exist together.”

She laughs lightly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It was so simple, but it was perfect. Just us, sitting by the fire and talking until we fell asleep.”

She tells the story like it’s sacred like it’s a precious memory she keeps tucked away in her heart. Maybe that’s what makes it worse.

Because either she’s lying, or she’s telling the truth.

And if it’s the truth, if she reallydidlove Gabriel, then I don’t understand how she could’ve killed him.

How do you murder someone you claim to love?

“Gabriel always knew how to make me feel special,” Aubrey says, her eyes shining as if she might cry. But I don’t believe it. I don’t believe her. “That’s why I want to honor him tomorrow. I want to keep his memory alive, you know? It just feels…wrong to let the day go by without doing anything. My Morgan and Teddy were so close to him. It wouldn’t feel right without them there.”

Her hand moves across the table to touch mine briefly, a fleeting gesture of connection.

I see it for what it truly is.

Manipulation.

“And of course, Teddy especially. Gabriel adored him—loved him like he was his own son. I think it’ll be good for him, too. A way for all of us to heal together.”

Heal together.

She makes it sound like she isn’t the reason he’s dead.

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