Tony ripped the buds from his ears. “Kim . . . what the hell are you doing here?” His voice was both angry and scared, like he was annoyed that Kim had showed up to murder him in front of his neighbors.
“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” she said, which sounded just like something a stalker would say before she stabbed the object of her obsession to death, “but I had to see you.”
Tony glanced toward his front door: Assessing a run for it? Worried his wife, kids, or nanny might emerge? Both were plausible . . . He looked back to Kim. “Is this about Apex? Because that was all on the up and up.”
“It’s not about Apex.”
“I didn’t exactly appreciate you telling them I had a child-porn addiction.”
“I’m sorry. . . . That was wrong.”
“Yeah, it was. . . . What do you want, Kim?”
Her presence on Tony’s doorstep suddenly seemed completely ludicrous. “I . . . came to apologize,” she said finally. “I recently learned that you didn’t tell your wife about Jeff’s LSD use.”
“Of course I didn’t,” he snapped. “I told you that.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you then . . . but I know the truth now.”
He shifted his grocery bags on his shoulders. “Fine. Apology accepted.” He was desperate to leave; she could see his body yearning to escape, his eyes darting, longingly, at his front door. But she couldn’t walk away from him, not yet.
“There’s something else. . . . It’s about Ronni.”
“Who?”
Kim couldn’t speak, as the depth of her stupidity threatened to overwhelm her. Tony didn’t care about her or what she was going through. He barely remembered the party, the accident, or the lawsuit. She had created a fantasy world where Tony was her solace, her comfort, her sounding board. . . . She was such a fool. “Nothing.” Her voice was hoarse as she turned to go. “Forget it.”
She was walking away but Tony’s voice followed her. “Amanda and I are working on our relationship. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come here again.”
Kim didn’t stop. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” She was sincere, but for some reason, her voice came out snarky and angry. Without a look back, she got into her car and turned on the ignition. She had one more stop before she could go home.
jeff
SEVENTY DAYS AFTER
As soon as he entered the house, Jeff knew something was wrong. . . . Or wronger . . . Or more wrong . . . There had been a tangible feeling of unease in the house for months—since Ronni’s accident, since Lisa’s lawsuit, since Kim’s flirtation with adultery, since Jeff’s flirtation with acid . . . but something heavy and dark was permeating the air, dragging him down from his post-bike-ride high, decimating his post-hot-tub Zen. . . . What now?
Kim and Aidan were huddled together on the sofa, the boy’s head resting on his mother’s shoulder. Aidan was thirteen, a highly undemonstrative age, and yet there he was, curled up next to his mom like a baby lamb. It was alarming.
“What’s going on?”
Kim didn’t answer right away. She kissed her son’s shaggy head. “Go upstairs, hon. Dad and I need to talk.” The boy obeyed, walking by his father without a glance, his eyes downcast and morose.
His son’s demeanor sent Jeff’s heart hammering in his chest. “What the hell happened? Where’s Hannah?”
“She’s upstairs. She’s okay.” Kim patted the sofa beside her. “Come, sit.”
Jeff hurried to the couch. “Are my parents okay? Is it my sister?”
“They’re fine. It’s Ronni Monroe.”
Of course it was. He should have known.
“She tried to kill herself.”
“Jesus Christ!” Jeff’s body convulsed with the shock. “What happened? Is she going to be okay?”
“She drank drain cleaner,” Kim stated. “It’s touch and go.”
“God, no . . .” Jeff dropped his head into his hands. He realized he was going to cry . . . it had been awhile, but there was no stopping the tears now. He tried to hide it—male instinct—but his shoulders shook as the repressed sobs racked his body. Kim’s hand landed on his back and rested there, gentle and calm, so weirdly calm.
“I’m sorry,” he spluttered, trying to compose himself, but he couldn’t, not yet. It was so horrible and disturbing and such a fucking mess. How did they get here? Where did they go so wrong? He turned toward his wife, sitting stoically, patiently beside him. For the first time in a long time, he wanted Kim to take him in her arms, wrap him up in her love, and hold him till the crying stopped.
Instead, Kim reached over and plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table. She handed it to Jeff, who took it obediently and blew his nose.
“You okay?” Kim said, her voice still oddly placid.
Jeff nodded and shrugged at the same time: sort of.
“I saw a Realtor today, Jeff. I want to sell the house.”
“No, you don’t. You love this house.”
“The Realtor said we’ll easily get two point six million in this market. If we sell the boat and some stocks, we can give Lisa three million.”
“That’s a bit extreme, Kim.”
“Drinking Drano is extreme.” She motioned around her at the expansive space. “This is just a building.”
“A building that we live in and love. A building that we poured our hearts into redoing.”
“I don’t love it here anymore.”
Jeff blew his nose again. Kim was right: it had been ages since he’d appreciated the house they had slaved over for almost two years, bickering, resenting each other, but working on a common goal, side by side. He remembered how excited they’d been when it was finished, how proud they were to inhabit such a lavish home. . . . They used to throw dinner parties, invite friends from out of town, host family celebrations. . . . But now, they just lived there.
“Where would we go?” he said resignedly. Selling the house still felt rash, but he didn’t have the energy to fight Kim, Lisa, Graham . . . basically everyone in his life.
“I don’t want to disrupt the kids by moving away from the school. We won’t be able to get back into the housing market in the city,” Kim said, “but we could buy a condo.”
Jeff shook his head. “We have a house full of stuff. It won’t fit into a condo.”
“It will fit into two condos.”
It took a beat to sink in. Jeff looked at his wife, her eerily calm demeanor, her quiet resolve, and he knew. It was over. He felt anger swell up inside of him. “Are you serious? Hannah’s best friend just tried to kill herself and you’re asking me for a divorce?”
“Not right now,” Kim said. “I don’t want to upset the kids even more. But going forward, I think it’s the right thing to do.”
“Jesus Christ . . .” He felt like he was going to cry again. They had been miserable for so long, Jeff had considered leaving a thousand times, but his wife’s words were so resolute and so final. . . . It made his heart ache.
Kim reached for his hand. “I want to love you, Jeff. And I want you to love me . . . but we just don’t anymore.”