Page 29 of The Woman at the Funeral

The next thing I knew, I was pulled against a wide chest. I had strong arms around me. I was crying into a dry clean-only shirt again.

Eventually, one of Nico’s hands slid up my back to settle at the back of my neck, fingers likely meeting sweat and grime.

That finally had me clawing my way back out of the betrayal and grief. For the sham of a marriage I’d been trying to save. For the trust that I’d placed in my husband. For my belief that we’d both wanted the same things. Because he’d never told me otherwise.

“Sorry, I’m probably getting you filthy,” I said, pulling away.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know if it was better or worse to tell you. But I didn’t want you to go through life thinking there was something the tests missed. That you couldn’t be a mom.”

“No. No, I needed to know. I’ve made myself sick over this for so long. All along, Matthew had just been lying to me.” I wiped my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “What else was he lying to me about?” I asked, speaking mostly to myself.

“Listen, if there’s anything you have lingering questions about, let me know. I’ll see if I can give you some answers or clarification.”

“Thank you. I know it can’t be easy to talk like this about your friend.”

“I knew Matt almost my whole life. I’m fully aware that he had flaws. And that honesty wasn’t always his forte. I guess I hoped, for your sake, that he was more forthcoming with you.”

“I’m starting to think he lied to me most of all.”

“Is there anything in particular you want to ask me about?”

A million big and little things.

“You paid for my wedding, didn’t you?” I asked. “Matthew said a deal he’d been working on finally paid out. But… when did his schemes ever actually pay off?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. That was me.”

“And this?” I asked, raising my left hand where my engagement ring still sat. Mostly out of some strange guilt I was still feeling about his death so soon after kicking him out of the apartment.

“I loaned him the money. I didn’t pick it out.”

I reached to slide it off my finger, setting it on the island.

“Thanks. You can have it back. I actually hated that ring,” I admitted. “I just could never bring myself to tell Matthew that.”

Nico gave me a nod as he reached for it, lifting it up to look at it. Then, brows pinching, pulling it closer.

“What is it?”

Nico said nothing. He walked across his apartment, going to the window, and gently scraping the diamond down at the very corner of the glass.

“Matt, you fuck,” Nico grumbled to himself.

My heart sank.

“It was a fake?”

Nico turned to me, sucking in a steadying breath.

“Honey, I’m sorry to be the bearer of even more bad news today, but that’s definitely not a real diamond.”

“But you gave him the money for a real diamond?”

“I absolutely gave him the money for a real diamond.”

It was a three-carat ring.

Depending on the clarity of the diamond, it could have cost nearly twenty grand.

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