Page 150 of A Smile Full of Lies
Instead, she just gripped the wheel and stared through the windshield like she was trying to anchor herself to this moment — this grief, this fury, this betrayal.
I could practically hear her thoughts unraveling as I watched emotions play out across her perfect, expressive face. She was thinking about what she’d written. What she dug up. What she exposed.
She was thinking about Thayer’s family, and how none of them knew the truth — not yet. Not the way she did. Not the way I did.
And maybe, just maybe, she was thinking about me, too. The man who’d brought her home from the hospital. The man who’d sent her to the river house for her own good. The man who hadn’t touched her since.
The man she didn’t realize was about to be waiting at home with a mask in his hand and a plan in his head.
I watched her put the SUV in gear, and I followed her into the storm she didn’t know she’d set in motion.
I trailed her through the shadows, always a few cars behind, always far enough back to stay hidden. But I didn’t lose sight of her. I never did.
She didn’t go straight home. Of course she didn’t.
I watched her pull out of the cemetery, headlights sweeping over the wet pavement like a searchlight, then veer left when she should’ve gone right. Her hands were tight on the wheel. White-knuckled.
She didn’t even know where she was going. Just that she wasn’t ready. Not yet.
I let a few cars slip between us, giving her space she didn’t deserve.
You should’ve come to me, I thought.You should’ve come home, baby.
But instead, she was stalling.
She took the long route through town. Passed the bookstore she used to browse with her grandmother. Drove past Heather’s coffee shop. Pulled into a gas station, didn’t pump anything, just sat there.
She was unraveling, and I fucking loved it.
Because even now — even after the funeral, after the words she’d written, after the three weeks she’d spent trying to bury the truth she didn’t want to face — she was still avoiding the one thing that scared her most.
Me.
She thought she could control this. Thought she could press pause on the inevitable. Delay the moment she stepped back into my orbit and everything changed.
But time’s up, princess,I thought. This isn’t a delay. This is foreplay.
She pulled out again, circling aimlessly. Her window cracked halfway. Her hair curling in the humidity. Her jaw tight. She looked like she wanted to scream.
I drove behind her. Calm. Focused. Steady.
Every second she made me wait only sharpened the edge. Every mile brought her closer to the moment I was going to ruin her.
Every mile out of the way was still one step closer to the house she thought was still safe.
Every second ticked closer to the moment her world would split wide open, and she would finally see what I’ve always seen.
She was never meant to be free of me. She was always meant to be mine.
She took the turn for the overlook.
I watched from three cars back as her blinker flicked once, then twice, before she veered off the main road and followed the winding path through the trees.
I didn’t follow her in. I didn’t need to.
I knew where that road ended. Knew she was going to sit on that lonely little bluff, high above the delta, and stare at the black water like it could give her answers. Like the thick, humid air could rinse the weight of everything she’d done from her skin. This was where, ever since I’d known her, she used to come,every time the world got too much for her, where she let time flow past, until she got her courage up about whatever was worrying her.
She didn’t want to go home because she already knew what was waiting there.
