“So you’re totally sane, and I’ve been writing,” he blurted out. He looked so ashamed she actually laughed.
“That’s good, Ethan. I’m very happy to hear it.”
“It’s been pouring out of me. I don’t know what the hell happened, but when you left, I was so worried and so torn, and the dam broke.”
“Maybe you had a feeling about Ivy from the get-go, and she’s the one who inspired you. Maybe you’ve been writing about her, and not me, all this time.”
“Maybe. Sutton, there’s more.”
She breathed a small sigh. “I think I knew all along. Or at least suspected she was the one you slept with.”
He was dumbfounded. “How?”
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you. After you admitted your indiscretion, and we’d gotten things back on track, she started coming around more. You got tense every time she showed up, and she always had this private little smile for you.”
His mouth was open, his eyes shocked and wide. “If you knew it, why didn’t you say anything when I told you? And more, how could you stay friends with her?”
“Oh, Ethan. I didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to believe you’d do that, or she would. And deep down, I knew whatever it was didn’t continue. Things were so messed up between us after Dashiell... I didn’t want it to be true, so I convinced myself that it wasn’t. I didn’t want to have everything in my life go to hell all at once.”
“I never wanted her, Sutton. I’ve never wanted anyone but you since the moment I saw you. I don’t even remember that night. Graham thinks Ivy drugged me. That it was all a setup for ‘Colin Wilde’ to use against me.”
“I think that’s very possible, considering. Looking back, Ivy always made little comments about you, asked inappropriate questions about us. How you made love, how we talked in bed. At the time it was just stupid girl talk after too much wine, but now I see it for what it was. She was wringing me for information, squeezing out every last drop. She loved you. She always has. I was in the way, and she couldn’t just kill me. So she set everything up, slept with you, thinking you’d continue the affair. When you didn’t, and confessed, it infuriated her. So she killed our baby to pay us back.”
“But she knew you were her mother the whole time. That is truly sick.”
“I’m no psychologist, but if I had to guess, I’d venture to say she wanted to take away everything that mattered to me. You. Dashiell. Our marriage. And punish us both in the process.”
“She bloody well nearly succeeded.”
Sutton went silent for a moment. “Ethan... There’s more. In Paris. I—”
He held up a hand. “Tomkins—he called himself Constantine, right?—told Graham all about it, and she gave me the basics. I forgive you. My God, if you can forgive me Ivy, and Dashiell, it’s the least I can do.”
“You are forgiven,” she said. “For everything, and I hope you’ll forgive me, too, and we can let them go. They deserve each other. But I have something much more important to tell you. In Paris...I found out that I’m pregnant.”
Ethan reared back as if she’d slapped him. “By that douche you slept with? Hell of a way to begin forgiving—”
She laid her hand on his. “Ethan, no. Oh my God, no. I was pregnant before I left. I swear. I thought I’d lost it. I took a test three weeks ago, and it was positive, but right after, I started to bleed. I assumed I was miscarrying. Maybe I was, or maybe it was a fluke. I took it as a sign. It seemed fitting. I was so afraid you’d hurt Dashiell, and if I were pregnant again, then we would both be in danger. I prayed not to be, and then I started to bleed, and I thought, for once, God’s answered my prayers.”
“I would never hurt Dashiell. Or you.”
“I know that now. I started feeling ill the first day I arrived in Paris. I figured I’d gotten into something on the plane. I didn’t think. No, that’s not true. I wanted to run away and pretend my life hadn’t turned out how it did.”
“When did you know for sure?” he whispered.
“Inspector Badeau noticed how sick I was during the interrogation and thought something was up. She brought me a test, and I took it.” She pulled it from her purse and handed it to him. The two lines stared up at him like slitted eyes.
She rubbed her stomach ruefully, one hand still tangled with his. “I am pregnant, and the baby is yours. Only yours. I screwed up royally in Paris, by leaving, by running away from all of this. And I know you won’t be able to forgive me for my stupidity in thinking that I’d be better off away from you. Now that we know Ivy was trying to ruin our lives... Well, it’s too much to ask you to open yourself to me again. But if you’re willing to make a go of this, of us, I am, too. And if not, I will understand.”
“And the baby?”
She smiled. “I will see him or her as a blessing, now and forevermore, no matter what happens.”
“So you’re keeping it?”
She nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. “Yes. I am. We’ve lost too much already, don’t you think?”
Ethan stood and walked out of the room.
Sutton sighed, sipped her tea. She couldn’t say she blamed him. It was a lot to dump on a man. I thought you killed our child, I thought you’d kill me, too, so I ran away and screwed another guy, and oh, by the way, now I’m back and knocked up, and aren’t you thrilled, it’s yours!
A minute later, she heard him coming back. She set down the tea and moved forward in her chair, leaning toward the doorway. When he appeared, her breath left her.
He held the pregnancy test she’d taken before she left in his hand.
Ivy was with him. And she had a gun to his head, and a crazy smile on her face.
“Hello, Mom. Did you miss me?”
THE RECKONING
Ivy tugged roughly at Ethan’s arm, pulling him into the room. His face was ashen. He was trying to tell Sutton something using only his eyes, but she couldn’t understand. She was too focused on Ivy, and the snub-nosed revolver, and the blood on her hand, casually trailing down her arm, disappearing into her sleeve. Where was the blood from?
“So, Mom, I must say, I’m impressed. You have it all figured out, haven’t you? You’ve written my villain’s speech and now we get to end things. Is that what you think?”
“The police—”
“Are otherwise occupied.”
Sutton heard the sirens now, insistent and frantic.
“What did you do? Oh, Ivy, what have you done?”
“I did what I had to. She should have left well enough alone. Now...” She shoved Ethan and he stumbled toward Sutton. “Sit. Both of you. We’re going to have a little chat.”
Ethan put his arm around Sutton, his grasp warm and sure. She felt his strength, felt him reassuring her. “Why are you doing this?” Sutton asked. “Why?”
Ivy’s voice was calm and eerie, disassociated and furious, all at once. How had they missed this, the rocket fire burning in this woman’s soul, as they talked and played with her day in and day out?
“You have no idea what it was like for me, growing up without you. I want you to know. I want you to understand.”