Page 36 of The Writer

“Really?” I say, eager for the opportunity to change the subject. “It seems to me like you always have everything together.”

“I don’t know.” She exhales shakily. “My mind’s been all over the place lately. Between my classes and everything else, it’s getting hard to focus.”

“I understand,” I say, looking around the restaurant. I wonder, why exactly has Victoria’s head been all over the place? That doesn’t sound like her. She’s usually the most regimented of our bunch. “Anything been going on?”

“Just life,” she says, but I notice her face closes like a book. She fiddles with the straw inside her glass, refuses to meet my eyes. “My love life, rather.”

As with the others, Victoria doesn’t talk much about her personal life, but in mentioning it, she’s gifted me with a string I can pull.

“Are you dating someone new?” I ask.

“Was,” she says, sourly. “It didn’t work out.”

“What happened?”

“Things were going great. At least, I thought they were. We’d been seeing each other for a couple months, and I thought, with the holidays approaching, it might become official. That was, until I found out he was married.”

“You’re kidding.”

“That’s the problem with meeting guys online, I guess. They put out there whatever image of themselves they think is desirable, whether it’s true or not.”

“How did you find out?”

She exhales, as though she’s unsure she wants to share, but continues talking regardless. “His wife contacted me, as humiliating as that is.”

My cheeks burn at the thought of it. “What did she say?”

“I guess she had her suspicions and decided to go through his phone. She found his online dating profile, which led to me and all the messages we’d exchanged. Let’s just say, she wasn’t very kind in letting me know my boyfriend was already taken.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, placing my hand over hers. “If he lied about being married, how could you know?”

“I still feel so guilty. And used. Here I was thinking our relationship might go somewhere, and all the while, I was his dirty little secret.”

“He’s the scumbag, not you.”

“Becca, food is up!” Nikki calls from the back.

“Give me just a second,” I tell her, wishing I didn’t have to leave the table at such an emotional moment.

I certainly empathize with Victoria. Like with April, I don’t feel equipped to give the best relationship advice because I have such little experience of my own. However, I can imagine the feelings of betrayal and shame she must have felt when she realized her new boyfriend had been lying to her. It’s the type of reaction I’d expected to see when I confronted Crystal, instead of the callous indifference she displayed.

Could this love triangle be enough to send Victoria over the edge? This is more emotional turmoil than she has ever admitted to dealing with before. A breakup always provides ample motive when it comes to crime fiction, but in reality? Even with a broken heart, I’m not sure Victoria is capable of harming others.

When I return to the table with our food, I can tell Victoria’s been crying. She dabs at the corners of her eyes with the paper napkin.

“I’m such a mess,” she says. “You’re looking forward to a break from work, and all I’ve done is talk about my problems.”

“That’s what friends do,” I tell her. “You don’t have to apologize for letting me know what’s going on with you.”

“Maybe we should share more often. Talk about more than just writing,” she says. “I think that’s why the breakup is hitting me so hard. I’ve kept everything in instead of expressing how I really feel.”

“Pour it into your books,” I tell her.

“There’s an idea,” she says, laughing. “My next victim can be a cheating scoundrel.”

“Whatever works,” I joke back, then, with a shudder, I remember that, for at least one person in our group, “next victim” might not be a fictional remark at all. My heartbeat accelerates when I recognize how much is at stake.

“Thanks for letting me vent,” she says. “And please, don’t mention it to the others. I don’t want them judging me.”

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