Page 50 of The Wrong Guy

Britney loves to gossip. She loves learning about things and delivering the information in a way that makes everyone else feel dumb. If she is serious and wants to be with someone like Andreas, she’s going to have to relax.

Andreas would hate being with someone who tells everyone about their relationship.

“I heard about it from someone, and they have the same last name,” she continues. “I just wanted you to know.”

I wave her off to continue my lunch. I’m eager to get back to Stavros’s home to ask him about this. How would I even begin to ask him a question like this? It would be silly to just blurt it out.

By the time we’re done, I’m full from lunch. “Want to go for a walk or something?” I ask. I’m eager to work off some of the food baby I have from eating all of that food.

“Yeah. I want to check out a couple of stores nearby.”

As we are leaving the restaurant, I saw someone standing off to the side, watching us. I turn to look at the man in the shadows who slides back into the shadows as if I didn’t just lay eyes on him.

I decided to leave it alone, but the statement about Stavros’s father is still sticking with me. If his father is in the mafia, wouldn’t that mean Stavros would be in the mafia, too? Isn’t it typically a family affair?

Since I don’t have much money, I only buy a candle from a local shop. I’m going to have to see which items of clothing are salvageable before going too crazy with buying things. Knowing there is money from Derek hanging over my head and I can’t touch it is strange.

I feel the sting in my nose and tears are forming in my eyes again. I really wish I would stop feeling sorry for someone’s life who treated me so poorly. Derek was a horrible husband who didn’t care for me in the way he should have. I tried to be a good wife to him, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe I wasn’t sexy enough for him. Maybe I should have tried harder to get him to desire me more.

All of these negative thoughts have totally soured my mood to shop with Britney.

“Hey, I’m going to go back to Stavros’s home. I’m feeling tired,” I tell her and start to walk out of the store.

Britney grabs me by the hand, swinging me around to hug me. “I’m sorry all of this is happening to you. I am here to listen if you need me.”

I nod. I don’t tell Brit I probably wouldn’t be telling her everything since she is such a gossiper.

The cool air hit me, and the tears flowed down my cheeks unchecked. “What’s wrong with me?” I whisper to myself as I walk around the dozens of people on the sidewalks.

“Hey! Watch it!”

I jumped back to see I had almost walked right into oncoming traffic. The tears to flow heavier down my cheeks. I need to get back to the safety of my car where I can hopefully get a handle on my emotions.

Once I’m to my car, the tears come down quickly and violently. I don’t do anything to stop them. I’m crying for every reason I could possibly cry for, and I don’t try to psycho-analyze them. I don’t need to know why I’m so upset because there are a million reasons.

My phone ringing in my purse draws me out of the dark spots of my mind. I answer the unknown number even though I almost didn’t want to. I’m hoping the detective tells me she found out what happened to Derek. I need that closure soon. I need to get my life back.

“Is this Ms. Bancroft?”

I grimace at hearing my married name. “This is she.”

“I’m Detective Milgram. I wanted to ask if you have any thoughts regarding Derek's death.”

I choke. “I was in the hospital. I don’t really know what happened. Do you have any leads?”

She clicks her tongue. “I do have some ideas. I just wanted to reach out to you. Anyway, you can tell me where all the money came from?”

I answer honestly. “I didn’t know about the money until we started the divorce proceedings. He didn’t talk to me too much about money.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize I should have requested an attorney present.

Am I being interrogated?

“Ms. Bancroft-”

“Please call me Audrina,” I interrupt.

“Okay, Audrina. It seems odd that your name is on several of these bank accounts, and you don’t know much about the money.”

“My name was forged.”

---