We Are Us

“Celebrate… no.” There’s no reason to hide the truth from Gavin. “Things were over between us. It was really just a matter of filing for divorce to make it official.”

“The decision was mutual?”

“I don’t—” I rub at my throbbing temples. I may have wanted to kill Tucker, but eventually I would have come to my senses and done what rational adults do—hire a lawyer and move on with my life. Right? “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Gavin seems to sense my i

“Yes.”

“Do you remember where you stayed?”

“The Delano.” There had been reporters broadcasting in front of the iconic oceanfront hotel.

“But do you remember it.”

I close my eyes and concentrate. After a moment, I feel a blast of heat on my face, the taste of coconut rum thick on my tongue. “Yes. I remember having drinks there, by the pool.”

“With Tucker?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“We just stayed the one night. And then we drove…” My words fade as I recall getting into a car beside Tucker, a white Mercedes convertible, feeling like Grace Kelly with a scarf over my head and oversized sunglasses covering half my face.

Images rush at me, so many of them it feels like my head is going to burst. Mirrored aviators obscuring Tucker’s eyes. A cloudless blue sky above an azure sea. Boats, hundreds of them. Then one in particular—an enormous, gleaming yacht, its flag silhouetted against the bright sky, hull riding high in the water. An immaculately dressed crew of eight lined up to welcome us.

I feel the gentle sway of the sea, relaxing and exhilarating all at once. The waxy surface of the gleaming teak deck beneath my bare feet.

“I remember the marina. I remember boarding the yacht and casting off. We sailed toward the Keys.”

“He was an experienced sailor?”

I open my eyes. “Tucker learned to sail as a kid, I believe. His parents kept a boat at the Greenwich Yacht Club, in Co

“Can you remember if Tucker left the yacht at all? Did you go scuba diving together? Or explore the islands on your own, away from the crew?”

I take a quick breath and look away from Gavin, burrowing inside my jumble of memories to recapture a distinct memory of Tucker and me, together.

But it’s like trying to punch through a veil as it dances in the wind. I’m only getting tangled up inside my own mind. Everything is blurry and confusing.

Not exactly everything. The emotion flickering to life inside me is the same one that has characterized much of the past nine months. Betrayal.

The thing about betrayal is that it has the strength to pervert logic, to turn rational people into zealots. Is that what happened between Tucker and I, in the warm waters just off the Florida Keys? Did I act to end our marriage, not by divorce, but by death?

“I’m really tired,” I say, lifting my head and pushing myself back a few inches, needing some time to process my thoughts. And Sadie could come back at any minute—how could I possibly explain being cuddled up beside the FBI agent investigating Tucker’s criminal activities? It’s not like I ever told her about Gavin… that would be interesting to explain all these years later.

Gavin slides out from under me and stands by my bedside. “Okay. Get some rest. But you should probably know that the state police are bound to show up soon. You don’t have to talk to them. You can push them off until you hire a lawyer.”

“A lawyer? Won’t that make me look like I have something to hide?”

“That’s what they’ll tell you, but they’re going to investigate either way.”

“Is it wrong if I talk to them, try to find out what they know?”

“No, it’s not wrong, but—”

“I need to know the truth, whatever it is.” I wasn’t quite certain for a while there, but I am now.

Gavin sweeps his knuckles over my cheekbone. “Be careful what you wish for.”

I savor the simple joy that rushes through me at his touch, but only briefly. There’s no escaping the reality of my life. “I don’t believe in wishes anymore.”

Gavin glances away, his jaw clenching. When he looks at me again, his corneas are pebbles of obsidian glass, smoldering with a dark fury. “You married a thief, Poppy. But what he’s stolen from you…” He shakes his head. “You’re as much a victim as—”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap. “I’m not a victim.”

My sharp retort makes him frown, a stubborn expression pulling at his features as if he’s about to argue. But then he decides better of it. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

I toy with a loose thread in my sheet. “Do your bosses know about us?”

“Only what I’ve told them, that we grew up in the same town. I said we were acquaintances but nothing more. They’d be hard pressed finding someone who could prove otherwise.”

I nod, remembering how I hadn’t even wanted to share Gavin with my sister. On one of his messages from a few years ago, Gavin told me that his foster parents had passed. And if Doug is still around, and anything like he used to be, he’d hardly go out of his way to put himself on the FBI’s radar.

“I pushed hard to come down here. I told my team I could get you to talk to me.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?” A fresh surge of fear coats my mouth with a metallic tang.

Gavin rears back, his face a map of every hurt I’ve inflicted. “No, Poppy. I’ll come back later, in an official capacity. You can answer my questions or not. But right now, this is for me. When I heard you were taken to the hospital, I…” He looks away, swallowing heavily. “I had to come down here. I had to see you for myself. Help, if I could.”

I didn’t believe it was possible for my heart to break any more than it has already, but Gavin proves me wrong. “You always did want to be a hero.”

His lips twist downward into a sad smile, possibly the saddest I’ve ever seen. “I tried to rescue you once before. This time, I hope you’ll let me.” He wraps me in his arms and presses a kiss to my forehead, adding, “I’ve never stopped loving you, Poppy. Never.”

When he pulls away, the hollow laugh that trickles from me is as sad as Gavin’s smile, leaving words I ca

I want to beg Gavin’s forgiveness for pushing him away in New York when he came to me the week before my wedding, hurling lies at him like rocks. For avoiding him after he showed up at Worthington, explaining why he’d left Sackett, and what kept him away for so long. For never answering his messages or showing him how much I still cared.

But I can’t.

Because I fell for Tucker’s promises. I believed his lies. I’m wearing his ring. For better or worse, we built a life together.

That life is shattered now.

An hour ago, I was sure I was a murderer. A black widow.

But if Gavin is right, I’m the abandoned wife of a criminal.

Either way, I’m a fucking mess.