Page 62 of Our Little Secret

Marilee glanced at her mother. “You okay?”

“I think I’ll live,” she said, needing a moment to pull herself together.

“You sure?” Neal asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Neal didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue and eyed the floor and tabletop, turning on the flashlight of his phone, trying to catch the glimmer of any tiny bits of glass still remaining.

Leah was still testing her phone.

“All clear,” Neal declared.

“Mom, you’re still bleeding.” Marilee was staring at Brooke’s hand. Sure enough, blood was soaking through the small Band-Aid. Marilee, to her credit, even found a damp towel and swiped the tabletop again.

“You should put some Neosporin on that,” Neal said, motioning to Brooke’s injured hand.

“Okay. Keep an eye on the lasagna, will you? It’s got a few more minutes. And there’s bread to heat and . . . a salad in a bag in the fridge.”

“Got it!” Marilee said.

“Smells great.” Neal gave her a wink as she snagged her purse from the counter, and she wondered how she’d ever not trusted him, ever thought they’d fallen out of love.

In the bathroom, she cleaned the cut on her hand and heard the conversation drifting up the stairwell. Muted voices, punctuated with laughter, her family. She applied the antibiotic gel to her cut, placed a large bandage on the wound and then, while everyone was downstairs, pulled the burner phone from her bag.

A voicemail.

Closing the bathroom door and locking it, she kept the volume on low and played the message. A raspy, whispered voice warned, “He’s not who you think he is.” Then the message ended.

Her heart stilled.

She licked suddenly dry lips.

Of course the number came up as unknown, and when she tried to call it no one answered. It cut off before the second ring. Who was calling her? Who knew? She felt cold inside and again heard a burst of laughter from the kitchen below.

She’d told no one of course, but Gideon could have told any number of people. He was reckless. Hadn’t that been obvious just today as he, on his motorcycle, tried to cut her off in traffic? Showing up on her doorstep as a pizza deliveryman, for God’s sake?

Unfortunately, his wild streak, his devil-may-care attitude, had been a big part of her attraction to him. The fact that she hadn’t really tried to find out more about him, hadn’t seriously researched him on the Internet, or had him scoped out by someone she trusted—

Like whom?

Who would you have trusted to look into a near stranger with whom you’d started an affair?

Face it, Brooke, you didn’t really want to know him, wanted to keep the mystery going. You intentionally turned a blind eye.

You’re an idiot.

God, she regretted every moment with him.

But you loved it at the time, didn’t you? You wanted to step on the wild side and you dared to risk everything you loved for the thrill of the exhilaration, to feel young and wanted and alive once more!

Again, you’re a fool.

The phone buzzed in her hand.

Gideon’s number. Not a call but a text.

She froze, eyes wide as she read,Liar! I thought you and Neal never made love. That the marriage was over. Isn’t that what you said? And yet there you were, fucking the hell out of him.