Page 117 of A Dose of Pretty Poison

I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m just worried about you, Lai. But you’re right. We’ll talk tonight. I love you. ??

I don’t want to get my hopes up, but this feels a lot like finding the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

FOR THE FIRST TIMEin a couple weeks, I walk into the house with a smile on my face. I’ve been dying to get home. I thought about leaving early, but we had to get shit done if we want to meet certain deadlines and not fail any more inspections. I can’t wait until the bar is done and I can be the boss who leaves for lunch dates in the middle of the day.

Or sex dates. Those are good, too.

Laiken is sitting at the small kitchen table—the one we have only used once since I moved in. She’s not even doing anything, just staring off into space. I go up to her and press a kiss to her forehead. But something about the smile she forces onto her face feels off.

“How was work, babe?” I ask as I grab a beer from the fridge.

Her voice comes out lifeless. “I didn’t go.”

Fuck.So much for turning a corner. Now it feels like we’ve gone back three steps. Dread runs through me at full force. I know I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. Not with how unstable she’s been lately. But that text sounded so much like her, therealher, that I couldn’t help it.

“Baby,” I sigh, sitting across from her. “I know you’re hurting and I’m sorry you lost your friend, but you can’t throw the rest of your life away because of it.”

She scoffs. “That’s easy for you to say. You never liked Monty.”

“No, I didn’t,” I admit. “I couldn’t. He wanted to take away the one person in my life that I can’t live without.”

Her eyes meet mine with a fire inside them, but while normally I’d be glad that she’s feelingsomething, this seems to be directed at me. And the words that come out of her mouth make me feel likeI’mthe one who took a gunshot—but mine was straight to the chest.

“Is that why you shot him?”

I rememberthe day we stood in the parking lot of our beach; the day Hayes asked me to take him back. The look on his face when I told him no was heartbreaking. I’m not sure he prepared for the possibility that he wouldn’t get his way, and it hurt more than he thought it would. But the expression on his face right now is one that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Wow,” he says breathlessly, after a moment of letting my words sink in. “T-that’s really what you think of me?”

My heart hurts. There’s an actual stabbing pain that’s shooting through it. “I don’t knowwhatto think. All I know is that I walked away and came back to find Monty bleeding out on the ground, and you saying you accidentally shot him.”

“Yeah, emphasis onaccidentally!” he yells.

“Well, for me, the emphasis is onshot him!” I shout back.

He sends the chair flying backward as he gets up from the table. “This is fucking great. My wife honestly believes I’m a murderer.”

“I didn’t say that!” I argue. “But think of how this would look to anyone else!”

“You’re notanyone else! You’re my wife!” he roars. “I just thought you would have a little more faith in me than this. You’ve known me for how long? If you truly think I’m capable of something like that, why are you even with me?”

“Because I love you! I’m not saying you killed him in cold blood but you can’t deny that something isn’t adding up here. He just randomly took out a gun and started swinging it around? That doesn’t make any sense!” I swipe open my phone. “And then there’s this.”

As I press play, the sound of his voice plays through the speaker. We both listen as he threatens to kill Monty in a way that sounds like he’s talking about random Tuesday night plans, not someone’s life.

“Of course, he recorded that,” he mutters as it finishes. “Where did you get it?”

I huff in disbelief. “Why does that even matter?”

“Because I’m wondering if you managed to find anything else he recorded. Like the sex tape he illegally made of us, for example. Or maybe the video of Mali undressing he took with the cameras he hid all over her house.”

My jaw drops, and there’s a good chance I might throw up. “What are you talking about?”

“Yourgood friendMonty is what I’m talking about!” he roars. “Entitled rich prick by day, closet fucking pervert by night!”

I feel like my head is going to explode. There’s so much going on. Too many pieces I’m trying to put together all at once. It’s mental chaos and I’m dying in the center of it.

“Whatsex tape?”

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