Page 66 of The One Before

“I’m fine,” I say, clacking the knife against the wood. “I can handle Helena on my own. I don’t need you interfering.”

“It’s my fault she’s bothering you.” He leans against the refrigerator and raises his hands to his head. This is where I need him: guilt-ridden, not distrustful. It’s bad enough he’s sorting through the mail and asking questions about where I go during the day. He doesn’t like losing control either.

“She’s a sad, lonely woman. She doesn’t have anything tying you to Laura.” I stumble over her name.

“Maybe we should get a restraining order. Get ahead of this thing.”

I turn and face him, the knife dangling from my right hand. “Do you really think that’s our best move right now? Involving the police?”

“You’re right.” He paces around the kitchen with his arms crossed. “I just wish there was a way we could keep her away.”

“I told you. Hearing your voice probably spooked her.” I turn and start chopping. “Don’t worry so much.”

Coop walks up behind me and kisses my neck. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“No,” I say, rubbing my cheek against his temple, tightening my grip on the knife. “I’m the lucky one.”

Fifty-Two

Madison

Coop was supposed to be home more than an hour ago. His tardiness worries me, just as every deviation from routine makes my pulse race these days. I’m wearing a pencil skirt and blouse with nude heels. I must appear like a Douglas family wannabe, regardless of how I feel inside. I don’t want anyone picking up on the shift in our relationship, and I’m already anxious because Coop mentioned they know about our fight.

I hear the door slam and Coop’s steps thundering up the stairs. By the time he enters our bedroom, I’m standing in front of our mirror perfecting my lipstick.

“My family should be here any minute.” He throws his briefcase on the bed, refusing to look at me. Something is off.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to get into it right now.” He brushes my shoulder as he enters the bathroom. I hear the faucet running and the sound of splashing. When he walks out, his face and neckline are damp.

“Talk to me, Coop.” I touch his forearm to try and calm him. I’m nervous.

He stares at me for a minute, deciding whether to bend. “I checked the bank account earlier today. You’ve moved some money out of our joint account.”

“Money for the wedding,” I say, quickly. “I told you that.”

“What’s the money going toward exactly? Mom is paying off the last-minute bookings.”

“I know, but I moved some money over before that.”

“In the last week, you’ve been making small withdrawals. Where’s that going?”

I sit on the bed and inhale through my nose, trying to appear relaxed. “I’ve been trying to pay myself back for money I’ve spent along the way. My personal checking account is getting low, and I obviously don’t have any form of income.”

“Right.” His tone is sarcastic and cruel. He unbuttons his shirt and slings it onto the bed.

I walk to him and press my hands on his shoulders. “I’ve also been setting aside funds for our honeymoon, when we get around to planning it, that is. What’s the big deal?”

He slides his arms into a new shirt, staring at my reflection in the mirror. His gaze tests mine, trying to decipher the truth.

“What’s going on?” I ask, soothingly.

He sits on the bed. “I worried you were trying to move money around without me knowing.”

“Why would I do that?” I ask, raising my arms and dropping them at my sides.

He starts to say something but stops. “I don’t know.” He turns and continues buttoning his shirt.

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