Page 85 of The Fake Husband Play
Tomorrow, that video Schwartz’s editing will go live. Tomorrow, we’ll officially reveal our marriage to the world, and the world will judge it however the hell they want.
But none of that can touch this.
This is hers, mine,ours.
This is the beginning of something so real it’s got forever written all over it.
I’m dead certain of that.
Until suddenly—just two weeks later—I’m not.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
ELLY
“Chuck is ghosting me. Hard.”Makena’s lips push into a pout as she burrows deeper into the wraparound couch in the living room. “Why do I always get ghosted, Elly? I’m notthatscary, am I?”
We’re sitting by the “gaming system” TV Grammercy hardly ever uses, staying cozy while Mimi sleeps and Grammercy’s in Kansas City for the Voodoo’s first away game. It’s a rainy Friday in October, the first chilly NOLA night of the year, and Makena and I are honoring it with hot toddies.
The apple cider, bourbon, spice, and vanilla liquor concoction she calls “Sweater Weather” is delicious.
Hearing Chuck’s name on her lips again is muchlessso…
I pause mid-sip and arch a brow. “How can he be ghosting you? You broke up with him.” I hunch my shoulders closer to my ears as I beg, “Please, don’t tell me you’re back together, Mack. I’ve already said way too many unpleasant things about Chuck to feel comfortablehaving drinks with him again. True things, but also…unpleasant.”
Makena rolls her blue eyes. “God, no. I finally learned my lesson with that one, believe me. He’s the worst.”
“Oh, thank God. He really is.” I relax back into the sinfully comfy couch. I’ve never had a couch like this, one that cradles you like a spongy cloud. Mimi calls it the “stuffed animal” couch because it’s so big and cuddly and she likes to do her reading homework here after school.
“I know,” Makena continues. “But he still has my entire vintage record collection. I was keeping it at his place because we liked to listen to Van Morrison and Joni Mitchell on the weekends. I’ve texted him ten times suggesting places we could meet up to do a handoff, but he refuses to respond. I even told him he could just leave them out on his porch one Sunday morning, and I would bike over to get them on my day off, but…nothing.”
I frown. “That’s immature. Even for Chuck.”
She nods, her brow furrowing. “I know. And I’ve been stalking his social media, and he’s dropped off the face of the earth. He’s never online anymore. Ever.”
“Or he’s blocked you.” My lips pull away from my teeth. “Sorry to introduce that option, but I’ve recently become a lot more social media savvy than I used to be. And it happens. A lot.”
“No, he didn’t block me,” she says with a smug grin. “I know because I follow him under a fake bikini model profile. No one blocks the bikini model.”
“Really? Wow. You’re diabolical.”
She shrugs. “Kind of. A girl’s gotta be in this day andage. But yeah, he’s gone dark, and when I swung by his office to pretend to deliver a lunch order and shame him into giving me my records back in public, there was a temp at his desk.” She frowns, cocking her head sharply to one side. “You don’t think he’s actually a ghost, do you? Likeliterally?”
My eyes widen. “You mean…dead? Do I think Chuck is dead?”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding faster as she warms to the idea. “I mean, I haven’t googled him, I’ve just been stalking him on socials. What if he’s dead, and I’ve been texting an actual ghost this entire time! I mean, he doesn’t have any family in the area, and his close friends still live in Boston. He couldtotallylie dead in his house for a week or two without anyone noticing. I was the only one who would have noticed, and I broke up with him and—” Her hand flies to clutch at the top of her fuzzy white sweater. “Oh God, you don’t think he was so upset about the break up that he…” She draws a finger slowly across her throat.
I gulp my drink, needing more bourbon for a conversation like this one. “I don’t think so, honey. I mean, I guess it’s possible, but Chuck loves himself an awful lot. And weren’t you pretty sure he was sleeping with someone else? Isn’t that part of why you ended it?”
She bites her lip. “You’re right.Sheprobably killed him! I mean, not that I can blame her, but I want my records back.”
I laugh. I can’t help it.
“What?” Makena pokes my leg with her toe. “What’s so funny? I mean, peopledoget murdered by their lovers. Mostly women, but a scorned female has been known to pick up a knife now and then.” Her eyes arewide again. “Shit! That meansI’mgoing to be the prime suspect! I might have to go on the lam for a crime I didn’t commit. Unless someone with better internet stalking skills than mine can track him down for me…”
Rolling my eyes, I grab my phone from the coffee table. “Fine, I’m on the hunt. Are you happy?”
