Page 77 of The Villa

“I can’t believe that asshole is actually going to win in the end,” Chess murmurs, and her shadow lifts one hand, the movement elongated and slightly grotesque.

She’s right. It doesn’t seem fair that Matt should be able to take so much from both of us.

ThatMattis the person to almost come between us for good.

That he will always be wedged in between us, our friendship—and now, even this book that we’ll make together.

That we might never cut ourselves free.

The thought starts out so small.

It’s just those words, really.

A seed that sprouts in dark, dark soil, a vine twisting into an idea, an idea that should horrify me, but doesn’t.

“I need to show you something,” I tell Chess.

Taking the candleholder near the door, I go up to my bedroom in the darkness, a pool of golden light just barely illuminating each step before me.

I fish under my mattress for Mari’s pages, and when I bring them downstairs, I hand them to Chess without a word.

It only takes her a second to realize what I’ve given her, and her whole face glows as she reads.

We sit there in the drawing room, Chess reading, me watching her, until she gets to the end.

(Well, almost the end. There’s actually still one more section that Mari wrote, but I’ve kept that for myself. I have to keepsomepart of this just for me.)

When Chess reaches the final page—Mari calmly writing the end ofLilith Risingas Noel screams downstairs—she looks up at me.

I wanted to see if she’d understand what needs to happen next, or if I’d have to tell her.

But she’s my best friend.

She’s always been able to read my mind.

ONE WEEK LATER

Chess hears the car pull up before I do.

We’re at either end of the dining room table, each of us typing Mari’s handwritten pages from 1974 into our computers, and I have my earbuds in, so Chess has to wave to get my attention.

“He’s here,” she says, and I smile, saving the document and standing up from the table.

You can see the drive from the window, and Chess and I both stand there now, looking at the little blue rental car, watching the man who gets out of the driver’s seat.

He’s still handsome, still achingly familiar in his uniquely Matt way, and for a moment, I remember what it felt like to be in love with him. Like Chess, Matt had a bright light, and when it was shining on you, it was beautiful.

So long as he was getting what he wanted.

He turns, sees us there in the window, and lifts one hand in a hesitant wave.

“What exactly did you tell him to make him come?” I ask, and Chess reaches down, taking my hand and squeezing it.

“That I figured out that we had to tell you together. That you’d be so devastated and upset, and I didn’t want to deal with that on my own, and since he was equally responsible for how miserable you’d be, he had to actually see the consequences of our actions.”

Gleeful,Chess had said. That’s how he’d sounded when he talked to her about how unhappy I seemed. Because I deserved that, right?

Sometimes we don’t really know we’ve won until we see the reflection of that win in the loser’s eyes.

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