Page 104 of Happy Wife

He frowns. “When?”

“The night of the party. The night Will died, Marcus. How late were you there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe midnight?”

“Maybe?” I don’t disguise my incredulity.

“What the fuck are we talking about here, Nora?”

“You were so upset about the fight with me and Will and the glass. Did you try to talk to him about it? Did you two get into a fight and something happened?”

Marcus’s face falls. “Are you asking me if I—”

“Everyone thinks I did it, but what about you? You were there and you didn’t like Will very much after I told you about that fight.”

“Nora…” He shakes his head slowly. “You need to go home.”

Marcus is the most benevolent person I know. Even now. Even when I’ve rushed over to his restaurant to accuse him of murder, he’s not angry, but I can tell he’s wounded.

Of course he is. What am I doing? Am I actually accusing him of murder?

My lower lip starts to tremble, and I rub at my face. “Fuck.” I cover my eyes as the tears rush down. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. There’s a distance in the way he looks at me that makes it clear I’ve fucked up. Again. “Hey. What’s a murder accusation between friends?” The sarcasm in his voice stings.

Keeping my face hidden, I say, “Everyone is talking about me. Everyone thinks I killed him.” I already know I’ve taken this too far. But I can’t stop myself. “They think Ikilledhim, Marcus. I have to ask you—”

“I didn’t kill him, Nora!” The boom in his voice startles me, and I drop my hands to look at him. The stormy expression in his eyes hollows me out. “Are you happy now?”

But even in his anger, there’s something about the way he says my name that makes my heart ache. Maybe it’s just that there’s an underlying tone of…heactuallycares. He cares and I keep hurting him.

“You’re right. I should go.”

He doesn’t move to follow me, but I can feel his glare on my back. As I slip back into the alley, I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me.

Getting into Marcus’s restaurant unnoticed was easy once I found the alley where shops and restaurants on his strip receive deliveries and let in service teams. But getting to my car is goingto be another story. Parking on Park Avenue is always at a premium, so I had to take what I could get when I found a street spot near the park.

I put on my oversize sunglasses in the alley and skulk back toward Park Avenue to retrace my steps. I keep my head down and my eyes on the sidewalk to avoid catching anyone’s attention. But when I see the black scalloped Chloé ballerina flats headed straight for me, I know I’m a goner.

“Nora?” a saccharine-sweet voice trills. “Is that you? Goodness. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Fuckity fucking fuck.

I look up and see Gianna and her pack of tennis twits. They all fake-smile at me with barely restrained abhorrence. They are gleefully mainlining my demise. I bet they record Lindy’s program while they’re up at the club drinking spritzes.

Never mind the fact that someone died. They’re burning a second wife at the stake! Grab the popcorn!

I take small comfort in the fact that Constance isn’t with them today to witness my humiliation. She’s been lying low since the funeral. Probably because Fritz told her to, and she’s a better listener than I am.

“Hi,” I respond, wishing to sink into the sidewalk.

Gianna doesn’t miss a trick, looking me all the way up and down before she makes atskingsound. “You’re too young to just give up on your appearance, dear.”

“Touché, Gianna,” I concede, knowing better than to bring a knife to a gunfight. Where the gunfight is trying to defend myself in front of Gianna and her minions, and the knife is the clumps of conditioner that might still be in my hair. “It’s good to see you.”

She makes a noncommittal “hmm” sound. “I’m surprised to see you. Fritz said you were trying to keep a low profile.”

The iciness in her eyes informs me the gloves are off. Now that Will’s funeral is behind us, I can either fade into the background or expect to be confronted with what she really thinks of me—thoughts she only vaguely showcased when Will was around to protect me.

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