Page 6 of Hush Money
I clear my throat again.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him a second time.
“Just some family stuff,” he says awkwardly. “I’m in town for a bit, and uh…I don’t know. Just was hoping to see a friendly face.”
He’s not saying much, but in the same breath, he’s saying it all. Well, maybe notall.But I know there is more to it. It may have been years, but I still know him.
“What’s going on, Keat? Do you want to talk about it?” I say, and my hand slides over the table and lands on his without me even thinking about it.
Unfortunately for both of us, it’s my left hand.
The one where my wedding ring sits.
His eyes lock on the ring.
My eyes lock on his.
And I remember the same look in his eyes eleven years ago when I first told him Tanner was moving to New York. That we were going to move in together. That everything between us—whatever it was—was over as we knew it.
Suddenly, he slides his hand out from under mine and puts it on his lap. Then, he lifts those big, sad eyes to me.
“Nah,” he says. “I’m good. I should get going, but it was good to see your face, Evie Rae.” With that, he slides out from the table, out of the diner, and seemingly, back out of my life. And then I’m just sitting in this booth, the dark-red pleather sticking to my thighs, wondering what the absolute fuck just happened.
My shiftfinally ends a little while later, and I am completely numb the entire way back out to Long Island. When I work late nights at the diner, I drive into the city. I like having the time to myself to think. To be at peace.
Because then, I get home. And the peace is gone. The eggshells are back, and I tiptoe across them as gracefully as I can…but sometimes I walk too heavy.
As I pull into our driveway, my mind is consumed by another complicated man.
Why is he back? Why did he come find me?
A million thoughts swirl around my head.
Is something wrong? Is he here for good? Is someone sick? Ishesick?
But then I’m jolted back to reality the second I realize the living room light is on in my house.
Ourhouse.
He never leaves the light on for me.
Which means he’s awake. After he’s been out drinking with his friends all night.
Not a good combination. I draw in a long breath and blow it out slowly.
I grab my purse and walk to the door. I go to unlock it, but it pushes open. I walk inside and set my keys down on the entry table and kick my shoes off under the entryway bench. I used to love this house. It’s a cute little Cape Cod, painted a metal blue with white trim and shutters.
It used to feel like a breath of fresh air. Like something I put my mark on. Like somewhere we were setting roots and growing our lives.
Now it feels more like the place where I hold my breath. Like when I walk through the door, I’m diving under water.
I round the corner into the living room and jump when I see Tanner sitting in one of the armchairs. He’s facing the door, buthe’s not looking at me. He’s swirling a glass of whiskey around, staring at it. Finally, he lifts his brown eyes to me, and there’s a darkness to them that I haven’t seen in a while.
I’m not sure what it is—maybe it’s the way his eyes fix on me, like he’s stalking prey, or the way his face shows no emotion—but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Where were you?” he says. I give him a look and cock my head.
“I was at the diner,” I say. “You know where I was.” He widens his eyes and takes another sip. He finishes it off then looks at the empty glass for a minute. Then he looks back to me.
