“M-maybe I’m just a good person? Maybe I don’t think being cruel to someone is funny?”
“If you want to be friends with the Cyclops, be my guest.” He took a step toward her and she feared he was going to grab her arm, or shove her up against the wall, or spit in her face . . . but he didn’t. “If you tell anyone we were there that night, we’ll take you down,” he growled. “Just like we’re taking Ronni down.”
All Hannah’s bravado dissipated then. “I’d never say anything. I promise.”
Noah looked past her. A group of teachers had emerged from the staff room and were headed their way. “You’d better not.” He turned and left her.
jeff
FORTY-SIX DAYS AFTER
Jeff and Kim walked down the gradual decline of stone steps from Candace Sugarman’s law office in the Financial District. Jeff held his wife’s arm as Kim cried softly behind her dark glasses. To the suits passing by, he looked like a caring supportive husband, a perfect gentleman, but he was having a hard time garnering sympathy for the woman beside him. And her incessant sniveling was testing his nerves.
They reached his Tesla without exchanging a word. Jeff opened the passenger door and let Kim, still whimpering like she’d lost a beloved pet, into the leather interior. He got in on the other side, his weight on the seat automatically starting the motor. He was about to drive when Kim’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“What do we do now?”
Jeff looked at his wife, at her large, square Chanel sunglasses despite the overcast day, at her trim blazer and slim black slacks. She was an attractive woman for her age, for any age, but he looked at her like a painting or a photograph: visually appealing with nothing behind it. He remembered how he had loved her once, how he’d wanted her and ravished her . . . but that was a different Kim. Maybe, it was a different Jeff, too.
“Lisa turned us down,” he said. “We need to strategize another offer, one that she has to accept.”
“Or we go to trial.”
“You heard Candace. It’s a bad idea. It will be expensive and hard on the kids.”
“But she said we could win.”
“Could win. We could also lose.”
Kim blew her nose loudly into a tissue. “I can’t believe Lisa’s being so vile.”
“Money brings out the worst in people.”
Kim snorted. “Lisa acts so spiritual and Zen with all her yoga and her healing work, but she’s nothing but a greedy, vindictive cunt.”
“Whoa . . .”
Kim dissolved into embarrassed giggles. “Oh my god . . . did I really just say that?” Jeff couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, she reminded him of the old Kim, the one who swore and cracked jokes and laughed. “God, I am losing it,” she finished.
“You and me both.”
Kim checked her watch. “I have to make cookies for Aidan’s soccer game, but I don’t want to go home yet.” She dabbed at her eyes with the clean end of the snotty tissue she’d blown into. “I don’t want be alone in the house, thinking about all this.”
Jeff watched her for a few seconds. “Want to go for a walk somewhere?”
THEY DROVE TO Baker Beach and joined the Coastal Trail. It was an easy hike, a walk really, with incredible views of the crashing water, distant sailboats, the Golden Gate Bridge, and Marin Headlands across the bay. It was a path they’d walked before, when the kids were preteens, when they still did things as a family. When had that stopped? When Jeff’s career ramped up? When they moved into the new house? When Kim decided that the kids’ learning to play sports and instruments and express themselves creatively was more important than family time?
“I miss this,” Kim said, taking in the view as they strolled next to each other.
“It’s beautiful.”
She turned her face toward him. “I meant this. Me and you, spending time together.”
“Really?” Jeff scoffed.
Kim snapped back. “You’re the one who works ten hours a day and then works out for two or three more.”
Because I’m avoiding you! he wanted to yell. Because you’re cold and bitter and you treat me like a bratty six-year-old! But he said nothing, clenching his teeth together instead. He could feel Kim’s eyes on him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want us to fight. I want us to be a team.”
“We are a team,” he muttered. He felt Kim’s hand reach for his and hold it as they walked. It was warm and dry and surprisingly comforting. An older couple was heading their way, striding along with Nordic hiking poles. They nodded hello, and Jeff realized how he and his wife must look: like a couple so in love that they took a scenic walk together, in the middle of the day, on a Wednesday. The older pair would never have guessed that Jeff and Kim were there because a former friend was suing them and had just refused their offer of half a million dollars.
Kim pointed to a branch in the path. “Let’s head down to the beach.” They dropped hands to traverse the trail down to the water, but as soon as the terrain leveled out, Kim slipped her hand into Jeff’s again. It was April and still cool, so there were no sunbathers—naked or otherwise—and they had the beach to themselves. “This is nice,” Kim said. “You could almost forget all the crap that’s going on in our lives right now.”
“Almost.”
Kim turned to face him. She slipped her hands under his jacket and wrapped them around his waist. It was the most intimate touch they had shared in months. “It’s cold,” she said, by way of an excuse, as she snuggled into him. Jeff’s hands instinctively wrapped around her. Kim’s face was pressed against his neck and he felt himself soften toward her. So much anger, so much resentment . . . but maybe there was still something there, something more than just history.
“I feel like, if we stick together, we can do anything.” Her words were muffled by his jacket collar.
“Yeah,” he said, noncommittal. He felt her lips on his neck, a hesitant kiss at first. When he didn’t push her away, her mouth became more urgent and passionate.
“Kim . . .”
Her mouth was hot and wet as it gnawed on his neck. Her hands groped his ass, between his thighs, clutching his crotch. “Let’s go behind those rocks,” Kim whispered, her voice loud and desperate in his ear. “No one will see us.”
Jeff was aroused—it had been so long since Kim had touched him this way, in any way, really—but something felt wrong. Since when was Kim willing to do it in a public place, to risk humiliation, even arrest? Even the old Kim, wild Kim, wasn’t an exhibitionist. There was something too desperate, too forced in her suggestion. And Jeff had recently decided to shut himself down as a sexual being. The sexts from Lauren had prompted a physical response in him that made him feel ill. He was not going to let himself be turned on by a sixteen-year-old girl, no matter how dead his sex life was. He would exercise and work and take care of his family: he didn’t need sex. He grabbed Kim’s wrists and held them. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“I just want to be close to you. I want to be with you, like we used to be.”