With her head still down, Rowan explained how James had come over, convinced Poppy was having an affair. “We were so drunk, and one thing led to another,” she said at the end. “And when I got to the office and Poppy was dead—I thought it was my fault. I thought James told her . . . and she jumped.”
Corinne remembered how Rowan had seemed almost relieved to hear that Poppy was murdered. She couldn’t imagine the guilt she must be carrying around with her. And she couldn’t judge Rowan for sleeping with James. Not after what she’d done. You should tell them, Corinne thought, the notion pinging into her head.
Rowan’s shoulders heaved up and down. “I don’t know what to think right now. I just wish . . .” She trailed off, her gaze toward the stairs.
“Is it going to continue?” Corinne dared to ask.
Rowan stared at her with round eyes. She blinked once, then looked at the ground. “It happened again,” she admitted, cringing as she said the words. “But if Poppy was with someone else, maybe . . . oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head. Corinne could see two ideas warring in her mind: that what she’d done was wrong and unforgivable, but that if Poppy had done it first, then maybe . . .
“Do you really think Poppy was having an affair?” Corinne asked.
Rowan nodded, explaining the reason for James’s suspicion. She also told them about her old assistant noticing unusual appointments in her calendar. “She was sneaking around,” she said. “Telling lies. I don’t know.”
“Do we have any idea who Poppy was with?” Natasha asked, her brow furrowed.
Rowan drained the rest of her wine. “No clue. I had no idea anything was going on.”
“Me, neither,” Corinne offered.
“Definitely not,” Aster agreed.
“But say she was having an affair,” Natasha piped up, gripping the sides of her chair. “Isn’t that even more of a reason to suspect James? He thought she was having an affair. Maybe he even caught her. There could be more to the story.”
Rowan stared at her hard, her mouth small. “He’s telling the truth.”
“Maybe you just think that because you’re with him now,” Natasha argued. “You have to look at the big picture.”
The voice in Corinne’s head grew louder. You should tell them. You can’t just sit here, pretending you’re perfect.
Rowan shook her head vehemently. “I left the house before James did. By the time I got to the office, Poppy was dead.”
Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, did anyone see him leave?”
Rowan leaped up from the chair and paced over to the window that overlooked the sea. “He didn’t kill Poppy, okay, Natasha? He just didn’t.”
“But—”
Corinne heard the voice again, and this time it was booming. Tell them, it said. Tell them, tell them, tell them. “I cheated on Dixon,” she blurted, just to silence it.
All heads turned. Aster’s mouth dropped open, her face like a charades clue for the word shocked. Rowan blinked hard, some of the color leaving her cheeks. Natasha’s eyebrows knitted together.
“With who?” Rowan asked, walking back from the window.
Corinne took a long sip from the glass in front of her. “Will Coolidge.” It was torture even to utter his name.
Everyone just stared blankly. It was Natasha who spoke first. “The guy from Coxswain? His name was in your journal.”
Corinne gritted her teeth. Natasha must have really studied that Blessed and the Cursed post to have found that. “That’s right,” she said quietly. “I met him the summer Dixon and I broke up.” She cleared her throat. “Only Poppy knew about us.”
She peeked at her family, a hot flare of shame in her cheeks. Rowan looked stunned. Natasha had her arms crossed over her chest. And Aster was blinking rapidly, as though her vision had blurred and she was waiting for the world to right itself again.
“Now he’s a chef, doing the food for our wedding. Dixon couldn’t come to the wine pairing, and it just . . .” She trailed off. Then she looked at her lap, fearing the expressions on everyone’s face. “I don’t know what happened.”
A small hand touched her knee. Aster was staring at her. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”
Corinne swallowed hard. “But I don’t,” she snapped, her eyes filling again.
Rowan returned to her seat and poured another glass of wine. “Okay, forgive me for saying this, but are you sure you want to get married? Are you sure Dixon’s the person for you?”
“Of course he is,” Corinne answered. “It was just cold feet. I had to tell you guys to get it off my chest. But now it’s fine. It’s over.” She tried to take a breath, but it still felt like a pile of bricks on her chest.
Natasha leaned back on the couch. “Why did you and Will break up?”