Chapter Thirty-Nine: Lucy

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINELUCY

It only takes a couple of hours for the reviews of all three of my books to be flooded with people calling me a murderer. Now, when you scroll down to read what people think of my fluffy fake-dating rom-com, the first thing you see is “THIS IS WRITTEN BY LUCY CHASE, THE WOMAN WHO MURDERED HER BEST FRIEND.”

So, that’s unfortunate.

Ben gives me a worried look as I leave my grandma’s house after the interview, but I don’t have the energy to deal with his feelings right now. Technically, this is all his fault.

Several times I imagine mowing him down with my car. I feel like I deserve credit for not doing it.

I drive straight to Nina’s house. I’m showing up unannounced, which is a real dick move, especially since she has kids, but I’ve lost all my fucks. I have no more to give.

She answers the door with a rightfully annoyed expression. This is what she gets for inviting me over. There are real benefits to not letting me know where you live.

She’s in sweats, her hair up in a haphazard ponytail with a giant piece sticking up in the middle. She rests her head against the side of the door, like even standing here is too much effort.

“I’ve had a really shitty day, Lucy,” she says.

“I know you two were like BFFs in high school, but I swear to god, that woman is such a stuck-up bitch,” Savvy rudely declares in my head. I’d pushed back a little on that one. Told her that Nina came off as aloof sometimes, but she was actually very nice.

“Well, I’ve had a shitty five years, so how about you give me ten minutes?” I counter.

She sighs, glancing over her shoulder to where an animated show is playing on the television, the kids on the couch in front of it. She steps out onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

“I’m not doing another interview with Ben,” she said. “I texted him no a few hours ago.”

“Smart choice.”

She eyes me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you’re about to take my place as the cheating, lying whore suspected of murder, so nothing good can come of that interview.”

She pales, and stutters before she’s able to get a word out. “You don’t think that I killed Savvy?”

I don’t, but I just shrug.

“The thing with Matt and me—”

“I don’t care.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. He was just always there and my ex and I were always fighting.”

“Seriously, I don’t care. I would have cared back then, but I can’t really muster the energy at the moment. I would recommend you stop, considering what we just heard from Julia.”

She leans against the side of the house, exhaustion on her face. “I didn’t know. It was never really more than sex with me and Matt, so we never fought or…” She swallows hard. “I’m an idiot.”

“I mean, I married him.”

Her eyes shift to mine and then quickly away. She wants to say something in response to that, but is clearly holding it back.

I wonder what else she’s been holding back.

“Did you hook up with Colin?” I ask.

“Is there a woman in this town who hasn’t hooked up with Colin Dunn? Even your mother slept with him.”

“But were you with him while he was dating Savvy?”

“No, before, but we both know that Colin and Savvy weren’t exclusive.” She raises an eyebrow. “Savvy got around more than Colin, if I remember correctly. Funny how the podcast conveniently leaves that out.”

Savvy appears on the porch, mouth open in mock anger, like she’s insulted. “Excuse me, are you trying to imply that I was a slut? I told you I never liked this bitch.”

“Why did you go see Matt, the night of the wedding?” I ask, ignoring her.

“I was drunk. It was stupid.”

I wait, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“I would never sleep with your husband, for the record,” Savvy says. “Because I’m a good friend, but also because you have terrible taste in men.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” I snap.

And I realize, too late, that I’ve said that out loud.

Nina freezes, slowly looking over her shoulder to where I’ve just spoken to my imaginary friend.

“Are you … okay?” she asks hesitantly.

I flush. “I’m fine. What did your stupid drunk brain want with Matt that night?”

“I…” She pushes a hand through her hair with a sigh. “I knew you two were at the wedding that night, and I decided I was going to go over there and make a scene so that you would know I was sleeping with Matt. He’d been talking big about leaving you, and I was going to force the issue. I went over there and waited.”

“What happened when he got there?”

“I asked where you were, and he just started screaming at me to go home. Barely even let me get a word out.”

“So he was upset? Or angry?”

“Yeah. I figured it was because he could tell what I was doing, waiting outside his house like that. I just started apologizing and left.”

“Was he … I don’t know, disheveled? Dirty?”

She takes a step back, putting her hand on the doorknob in preparation to flee this conversation. “Matt didn’t kill Savvy. I know him. He didn’t kill her.”

I cock an eyebrow. “You know him so well that you didn’t realize he was beating the shit out of his wife?”

Her face hardens. She says nothing.

“Why is everyone so eager to jump to Matt’s defense, but the entire town immediately decided I was a murderer?”

“First of all, Matt wasn’t covered in Savvy’s blood. And second of all, I defended you on that podcast.”

“I know you did. And I thought it was because we used to be friends, but I think it’s more that you felt guilty for sleeping with Matt. Am I close?”

“Go fuck yourself, Lucy.” She walks into her house and slams the door.