Page 39 of The Retreat

Talia sat back down on the gingham blanket and tried to act like her entire emotional foundation hadn’t just been kicked in.

The sun was too bright. Across the lawn, someone had started an impromptu frisbee game that involved too much laughter and not nearly enough spatial awareness. Talia tracked the flight of the disc absently, her jaw clenched, smile fixed in place in case anyone glanced her way.

It had all seemed so clean. So simple.

Imogen was the villain. The interloper. The one who knew and did it anyway. Not the only villain in the story but a perfect target for Talia’s rage. Because otherwise? Otherwise, she’d have to admit she’d been tricked by Flora. And Talia didn’t want that. She didn’t want to think she’d been a fool. It was easier to believe Flora had just been weak, easily tempted.

But the truth was undeniable now. And that was what had stopped her from trying again all these years, wasn’t it? That was the fear she had been trying not to look in the eye. How could she be sucked in by someone so fucking cold? How could she love a person like that so deeply? Was she broken?

Imogen sat beside her again, quiet now. Heavy with the same sadness Talia felt. She poked at a half-melted wedge of brie and then sighed.

Talia took a sip of her drink and tried to swallow the lump in her throat with it.

It had been self-deception, this hatred of Imogen. A story Talia told herself to make things easier. But she couldn’t cling to it anymore. Not after the look on Imogen’s face when she said, ‘I wouldn’t have touched her if I’d known.’

Because Talia believed her.

Not because her instincts were reliable—they clearly weren’t—but because everything Imogen had said matched what Talia knew herself. There hadn’t been a single claim that didn’t line up with her own experience. The lawyer in her had worked hard to find a hole, but there was none. Imogen was telling the truth. She had been duped too.

And if that was true, was it possible Imogen was who she appeared to be?

But who was that, exactly? What had Talia seen? What adjective could she honestly apply?

Could it be—Jesus Christ—was it possible Imogen was… a decent person?

What a terrible thought.