Page 37

THIRTY-SIX

Connor should be working from home today, so I drive straight to our house.

I’ve replayed the video of Connor and Joanna over and over again in my mind. There’s no way he can deny what I saw. Her arms clinging to him, his lips on hers. The way they were swaying together like they were in some prepubescent fairy tale at a school dance.

And what is Joanna’s excuse in all of this? I acted as her mentor. She was supposed to be my partner on the sidelines. Giving her the job at the beginning of the season was a favor for Connor and Rex. Never once did I think my fiancé was fooling around with his best friend’s sister. Now, I wonder, how far back does their relationship really go? How long have they been romantically involved?

My mind travels back to the early morning hours of the lock-in. Joanna had followed me into the main office as I spoke over the intercom. She clumsily knocked over the water bottle which damaged the camera footage. Could that move have been intentional? Even in those early moments of Evie’s disappearance, was she thinking about how her own secret could be uncovered?

In the video, she turned away from Connor and looked back at the school. Is it possible one of the girls at the lock-in saw them together? I encountered two of the girls alone in the hallway around the same time. Joanna told me she was distracted, but I had no idea she was outside with Connor. What if one of the girls followed her and saw her locking lips with my fiancé? What if it was Evie?

The possibilities are dramatic and endless, but I can’t rule out anything.

If the past week has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t trust anyone.

Sure enough, Connor’s car sits in the driveway of our house. My house. I bought this place years ago, turned it into a home where I could live my life. I invited Connor into my life, into my heart, and this is how he repays me?

He must hear me approaching before he sees me. The slammed car door, my stomps on the wooden steps—all give away my presence, and an angry one at that.

“Cass?” he says, greeting me at the door. He’s wearing the same outfit from this morning, fuzzy socks on his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” I say. My shoulder slams against him, and he takes a step back. Before shutting the front door, he looks outside, trying to piece together why I’m home this early in the day. And why I’m so upset.

“Did you find out something else about Evie?” he asks, following me into the living room and sitting on the sofa.

I’m too filled with angry energy to sit, so I pace the room. “This isn’t about Evie.”

Connor’s eyes move around the room slowly. “Okay. What’s it about?”

“Joanna.” My hands clench into fists. It takes all the strength I can muster not to scream her name.

Connor goes still. He watches me carefully, trying to decipher how much or how little I already know, but he’s not an idiot. He knows I’ve left work and I’m seething with an anger he’s never seen before. His secret has been found out.

“Cass, I can…” He’s floundering for words, then he gives up. “How did you find out?”

I’m grateful he’s not going to cause further insult by lying, but I’m still enraged.

“The IT team was able to recover some of the damaged security video, which showed the parking lot on the night of the lock-in,” I say. “I had the pleasure of finding out you were cheating on me in front of Mr. Lake and Coach Reynolds.”

He squints his eyes shut. “Cass, I’m so sorry?—”

“What the actual hell, Connor?” I shout. “Joanna of all people?”

“I was going to tell you after the season ended,” he says. “Then all this drama happened with Evie, and I wasn’t sure you could handle anything else.”

“How long has it been going on?” I ask. “You started talking to me about hiring her more than a year ago! Was this your plan all along?”

“No! Nothing like that,” he says. “I asked you to hire her as a favor for Rex. I’ve known Joanna all my life, but we hadn’t been in touch in years. I never would have encouraged you to work with her if I thought there was something between us.”

“What happened then?”

“It was innocent at first. I’d see her at games and practices. We’d catch up on old times,” he says. “Last fall, when you took the girls to a training camp over the weekend, she stayed behind. I know she doesn’t have a lot of friends in the area anymore, so I invited her out to dinner. One thing led to another.”

The image of Connor and Joanna sitting in a dimly lit restaurant while I ran basketball drills a state away infuriates me.

“We’re supposed to be getting married this summer,” I say. “You’ve been hounding me about planning. That whole time you were cheating on me.”

“Not the whole time.” He winces when he hears just how pathetic that excuse sounds. “The last thing I wanted to do is hurt you. I thought maybe I was having cold feet about the wedding. I thought if we carried on as planned, these feelings might go away.”

“What feelings?”

He exhales. “You’re not all in with me, Cass. It’s hard to explain. I see the way you prioritize the things you care about in life. Basketball. The team. You treat me like an afterthought.”

“Don’t you dare blame your poor decisions on me.”

“I’m not! What happened with Joanna is all on me.” He pauses. “But do you not see any truth to what I’m saying?”

I refuse to admit it during this fight, but I know he’s right. There’s a distance between us. He might think it’s because of my job and coaching responsibilities yet it goes deeper than that. I’ve never shown Connor the real me. The girl who grew up in the same part of town as Evie. The girl who struggled and conned to get where she is.

“Do you have any idea how stupid it was to visit her the night of the lock-in?” I say. “Anyone could have seen you together. I could have seen you.”

“I know,” he says. “I felt like such a jerk that night. Going there to see both of you. Some guys might enjoy flaunting their mistress in front of their fiancée, but I didn’t.”

In an instant, I know what he’s talking about. The thrill. It’s the same feeling I used to get every time Nadia and I would dash and go. It’s the same feeling I had last week when I pocketed Melinda Terry’s phone. There’s something exhilarating about almost getting caught. Even if Connor says he doesn’t like the feeling, I wonder if that’s true. There must be some reason he’s allowed this affair to carry on this long.

“Of all people,” I say, my mind going back to the tape, “why her?”

“Maybe it’s our history,” he says, but the comment comes out like he’s avoiding telling the truth. “Sometimes I find it easier to talk to her because we’re on the same page about things.”

“Like what? Your biggest complaint our entire relationship has been my obsession with basketball, and guess what? She’s my assistant coach.”

“You’re both passionate about it, sure. But her life doesn’t revolve around coaching,” he says. “There’s more to her.”

And there’s not more to me. Or maybe I haven’t let him in to see the full depths of me. As much as I’m angry and outraged over the cheating, I wonder if part of the reason we’ve made it to this point is because I’ve created a barrier between us. I don’t fully let Connor, or anyone, in. I’ve always felt shame over the person I am, over where I’ve come from. Over what I’ve done. My actions hurt my father—hurt innocent people. And now they may have hurt Evie, too.

“Is this why you lied to Detective Fields about visiting the school?”

He considers his answer before speaking. “Once I realized a student had gone missing from the lock-in, I knew it was only a matter of time until someone found out about Joanna. I panicked.”

Or is there more to the story he isn’t telling me? The footage showed Connor and Joanna in the parking lot together, but it also showed them looking back toward the school building. Could they have been interrupted? Seen by one of the players?

“You need to tell Detective Fields the truth about being there that night,” I say. “Unless there is another reason you’re lying.”

“Cass, I would never do anything to Evie,” he says. He’s offended by the mere suggestion. As much as I want to believe him, a few hours ago I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of cheating either. I can’t trust him about anything.

“Pack your things and get out,” I tell him.

“Please, Cass. I’m sorry,” he says, trying to put his hands over mine. “I want to keep talking.”

“Not right now,” I say. “I need space.”

The only thing that feels like a victory in this moment is the fact this is my home. Connor might have the better upbringing, the bigger bank account, but this house is mine, and I’m reclaiming my territory.

“I’m heading out,” I say. “When I get back, you better be gone.”

He watches me go, a look of sadness in his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, shutting the door behind me.