I WAS AT MARK’S DOOR before I could process what I was doing. Jenny took those notes. I had no doubt. Jenny knew about us, and I was sure Mark knew something he wasn’t saying.
It was sickening. Just when I had finally found a crack, a small opening to squeeze myself through and escape the hold Mark had had on me for years, I was at his doorstep. I was breathing, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like someone was feeding my sternum through a meat grinder.
The door opened. I thought he would be surprised to see me. This was an ambush. Instead, he elongated his neck and unfurled a smug grin across his face. “Hey,” he said, waiting for me to explain myself.
My eyes darted around. If I could just avoid looking at him, he couldn’t pull me back in.
“Do you want to come in?” He stepped back, leaving room for me to follow. I kept my head down and slid past him.
I loved him, and that wasn’t going to change. I had to change. I turned around to face him. This time I let my eyes land on his. Once they locked, it was a relief. I let myself really look at him. Was I happy to hear he was miserable without me? Did I want him to be that man who sat on the porch with me after school? Of course, but he wasn’t the same guy. He was violent, evasive, and a liar.
He wasn’t interested in exchanging pleasantries. When I didn’t speak, he stepped toward me, extending his hand toward my waist. I retreated before he could make contact. He paused a moment, then tried again, his reach more aggressive. I lunged backward, guiding his hand away with my own.
“C’mon, Ginny,” he said, moving forward with every step I took back.
“I know you lied about Jenny,” I blurted out.
He stopped following me. “What are you talking about?”
“She took the notes, Mark. The notes you wrote me. I’m fucking pathetic and I kept them and she found them and she took them.”
“So what? I don’t know why that changes anything. What are you trying to say?”
“Why would she take them?” I asked. “She wanted them for something and I highly doubt it was to keep them a secret. Only one of us had something to lose. Did you know she had them? Did she try to blackmail you?”
“Jesus, Virginia, are you trying to be some fucking detective or something?”
“Just tell me the truth. Did she come to you? Did she tell you she knew about us?”
He put his hand to his forehead, massaging around and over his eyes. “Fuck it,” he said as he lowered his hand. “Yes, she told me she had the notes.”
My mouth fell open, but my jaw tightened and I had nothing to say. I guess I never really thought I could be right. I was just keeping busy, trying to be smarter than the cops, trying to find an excuse to talk to Mark, trying anything to distract me from my life. Now I had uncovered something. Something that could connect me to the murder and absolutely destroy me.
“Did you hurt her?” I asked, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I wanted.