Page 119 of Every Silent Lie

“What are you doing walking the empty streets in the dark on your own, Camryn?”

“You didn’t come here to lecture me, so why are you here, Dominic?”

“Dec Ellis?”

“Yes, Dec Ellis.” Although I’m not talking to him right now.

“Dec Ellis of DEA&M?”

I frown, my mind unravelling the abbreviation. Dec Ellis Acquisitions and Mergers. “So you know him?”

“Not personally. DEA&M just bought Cloisters.”

If I recoil anymore today, I’m going to find myself with a debilitating bout of whiplash. “He’s what?” Dec’s bought the company Dominic works for? What the hell?

“Swooped in at the eleventh hour and gazumped the firm favourite.”

“Oh.” What the fuck is he playing at? TF Shipping, and now my ex-husband’s company?

“You’re seeing him?”

I tilt my head, my jaw tight. “We’re not going there, Dominic. Why are you here?”

“Right.” He takes in air. Lots of it. I want to yell at him to spit it out, but I also don’t want to hear whatever he’s got to say. “Fuck,” he breathes, reaching for his eye, rubbing. “I work with Kiera.” He’s unable to look at me. I don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. That’s her name. Kiera. He works with her.

“You were fucking her when we were together.” The words tumble out of my mouth intuitively, and just the way Dominic keeps his eyes on my feet tells me my intuition is bang on. “You were having an affair.” I’m stating facts, not asking questions, my words robotic. As if I’m shutting down, once again protecting myself.

All I get from him is a small, ashamed nod. He deemed it necessary to come here and tell me this the day before the anniversary of our little boy’s death? He thought that would be appropriate? For what fucking purpose? To hurt me even more?

But then something comes to me.

I inhale, scared to voice what’s ping-ponging around in my head. “The work call you were on when you were picking Noah up from school that day.”

His eyes shoot up to mine, wide and worried.

“It was her, wasn’t it?”

“We were drifting, Cam.”

Oh my God, no. “So you started fucking a tart from work?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like?”

“I didn’t plan for it to happen. It just . . . did.”

“And then you got so wrapped up in it, you failed to stop our boy from running out into the road.”

“The car was supposed to stop, Camryn. It didn’t stop. She was twice over the limit, for fuck’s sake.”

“All attention on Noah,” I grate. “That’s what we agreed. Always. When we had Noah, it was all about him when we weren’t at work. It’s the very fucking reason I asked you to get him that day, because I didn’t want to be on a call when I picked him up.”

“I know, Cam. I know.” His head hangs.

“Why the fuck are you telling me this now?”

There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence. Another long inhale. “We had dinner with Graham and Mindy.”