I told Amanda everything that morning. Over coffee and toast and so much more coffee that my body started to jangle like a singing electric wire, I told her what I now knew about the accident. That I’d always believed I’d been driving that night and had allowed Aaron to take the blame for what I thought I’d done. That while I’d let Blake guide me to that decision, I had no one to blame but myself for going along with it. I was trying to cover my own butt, trying to save my own skin and finish college without getting into trouble.
Amanda’s face flushed as I spoke, and her eyes narrowed. “All those years you thought you’d been driving that night? As long as you’ve known me, you thought that?”
“I did.”
“And you knew how I felt about that issue because of Mallory? But you didn’t say anything to me.”
It was my turn to flush. Just because things were now out in the open didn’t mean it would be easy. Getting it all out felt like passing a kidney stone. A big one.
“That’s right,” I said. “And I’m sorry. I always wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. Because of Mallory. Because of the pain her death caused your family. I was protecting myself that night, and it’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, because I wasn’t honest with you.”
I explained about the money I’d been giving to the Steiners over the years, the amounts I’d taken out of our savings account. All because I’d thought I was behind the wheel.
“I saw the money being taken out,” she said. “I mean, I’m not a dummy. But you pay most of the bills. At some point it wasn’t really enough for me to worry about. I knew you had to put some money back into the Pig at one point. And then the work on the yard . . .”
I went on and told her about Dawn Steiner, how she’d asked for that big chunk of money that I didn’t have. And the deadline she’d given me.
“I think the police are after her now,” I said. “Since the story is out, she doesn’t have any real leverage. And for all I know, she might have been working with Aaron to harass us. That’s why—”
“That’s why you asked if Aaron had a woman with him when he came to the door.”
“Right.”
“And all because Blake wasn’t honest with you.” She shook her head. “What a bastard.”
I swallowed hard and told her about Blake coming to me outside the Pig, using the guilt over what I thought I’d done to the Steiner family to get me to go into Jennifer’s house and retrieve the incriminating letters.
Her face changed, and changed significantly, when I reached the next part of my story. I told her what she had already figured out—that I’d lied about the basketball game the night I really went to Jennifer’s house. And added insult to injury by lying again when she called me, asking me to come home. I sat across the table from her in our strangely quiet house, the absence of Henry’s banging and chattering more noticeable than ever, and her eyes filled with tears. She fought them off and put on the best face she could, but I stopped, reached across the table, and squeezed her hand, which felt cold.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I feel like an asshole.”
“That’s the correct way to feel,” she said.
“Do you want to stop talking?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. I want to hear the whole thing. I want to know about yesterday and how you got away from this crazy man.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, Ryan. I’m a big girl, remember? I’ve been through an MBA program and also sixteen hours of labor. I can handle this.”
So I finished the tale. All the way up to and through the stuff in the town house basement out at Hilldale Estates. The firing of the gun, the struggle on the floor. Holding Blake off so he didn’t pound Aaron into oblivion.
“I even punched Blake once,” I said. “When I found out he’d been gaslighting me over the accident. I couldn’t stop myself. I punched him in the face.”
“Good. Was it a hard punch?”
“As hard as I could make it,” I said. “I’m not really an expert on such things.”
“Good. I’d like to do the same thing to him.”
“I get it, but we’re not going to do anything with him anymore. We’re done. I’m done. He leaves a trail of destruction wherever he goes.”
“You’re right.” Her voice sounded distant and low.
I leaned farther across the table, moving my hand from hers to her forearm. “I’m sorry. About all of it. I lied, and I can’t do anything about that except to say I’m sorry.”
Amanda didn’t pull away, but she didn’t reciprocate my affection or contact either. She remained stiff in her chair, her eyes distant and distracted.
“What is it?” I asked.
She took her time, choosing her words carefully. She looked past me, not meeting my eye. “The lying,” she said. “It hurts. It really fucking hurts. How could you just look me in the eye and tell me something that wasn’t true? Even if it was just about a stupid basketball game. But it wasn’t just about a stupid basketball game, was it? It led to all of this. It put us in danger. Both of us. And Henry.”
I felt stung. I deserved it, but her words still stung. “I know.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t anything going on with you and Jennifer?” she asked. “You ended up going to her house, even after you were supposed to be done with her and her little flirtatious advances. And then she just happens to be dating Blake. It all seems so . . . I don’t know. Convenient.”
My face stung, but that time because it felt like it had been slapped. And hard. “Haven’t we settled all of that? You saw everything between the two of us. Hell, you saw whatever you wanted on my phone and computer.”
She kept looking away, but her cheeks flushed. We were a pair of red-faced lovers separated by a table-wide gulf of misunderstanding and suspicion. I pulled my hand back.
“I don’t mind talking about all of this,” I said. “But at some point, I want to move on and forget it.”
“But doesn’t all of this show that when you don’t fully deal with the past, it comes back to bite you in the ass?” She looked at me now. Straight on. “Isn’t that what we’ve been through the last couple of days?”
I couldn’t argue. No way. But the excavation felt like digging up a lost and buried city. How long would it take?
“What do you want me to do?” I asked. “Amanda, I’m facing potential legal jeopardy here. I tampered with evidence. My name is all over the news. I’m going to pay the price. And I know you and Henry will too. Of course I’m sorry for that. More than anything else.”
Amanda looked up at the clock above the sink. “I don’t know what else to say. But I should go get Henry. Mom and Dad have somewhere to be later. I said I’d pick him up. And driving will clear my head a little.”
“Let me go get him.”
“Do you really want to go over there and face the Spanish Inquisition as performed by Bill and Karen? Besides, I could stand to get out of the house. I’ve felt like a prisoner lately. Hell, I was afraid to go anywhere for fear I’d get murdered. It will be nice to go and not worry about that.”
“Okay,” I said. And I knew she was right. The last thing I wanted to do was endure the inevitable barrage of questions about Aaron and Blake and Jennifer that my in-laws would fire my way like a series of missiles. “I understand.”
When she went upstairs to get dressed, I felt lonely and pointless, cut off from everything. Normally I reached for my phone when I felt that way, but the phone and social media landscape offered no escape. I knew everywhere I scrolled or clicked I’d see news and questions about Jennifer and Blake and Aaron.
It seemed to take Amanda longer than normal to get ready, but eventually she came back down, dressed and ready to go. She stood across the room, her keys in her hand, the look on her face tense and guarded. “We can talk about this more,” she said. “I know there’s more to say. I guess I have more to say. And I’m trying not to be unfair and lay everything at your feet.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
She started to go and then seemed to remember something. She came over and pecked me on the cheek, a gesture that seemed strangely chaste and forced. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay. It’s not such a long drive. You’re making it sound like you’re going to be gone for hours.”
But she didn’t respond to that. She went out the door, and once she left, I started looking for something to distract me in the real world instead of the virtual one.