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There’s a definite sting, but I decide not to make a big deal.
“Sorry you had to wait there by yourself,” I say. “Did you at least eat something good?”
Andy gives me a strange look. “What?”
“Just tell me what you had to eat, Andy.”
“Nothing! What’s gotten into you? Stella’s was closed, okay? I waited for Josh in the parking lot for over an hour. I figured when he came, we could head somewhere else. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”
“Andy, I want you to be honest, even if you think it might upset me. Did you guys end up having it out Saturday night?”
“Why would you think that?” He seems sincerely bewildered.
“I don’t know. I’m grasping at straws, okay?” I pause. “Did you bring McDonald’s?”
“Huh?”
“When you came to my house. You brought wine. Did you bring fast food, too?”
He looks mystified. “How drunk were you, Julia?”
“Too drunk, I guess.” I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong with my memories from that night, beyond the wine. Is it really just the haze of alcohol, muddying my recollection? From the chasm running through me, those eyes are staring back, like they know something I don’t. A chilling thought runs down me like cold water. Was I drunk, or...was someone else in control? Someone like... Andy.
Impossible. Andy has explained it before. I’m not online. I can’t be hacked.
Suddenly I notice his pen, hooked as always on his shirt. I can’t believe I didn’t put that together right away. “One of your pens was in Josh’s tent.”
“Really?” His surprise seems innocent.
“Blue gel pen. Bite marks.”
Andy’s look takes a tired turn, like our explosive exchange has worn him down.
“Julia. He could have gotten that pen from you. You could’ve gotten it from me. I go through a dozen per week, and they’re always disappearing.” He sighs. “Look. This is the truth. I drove to Belmont Ridge Saturday night after I left your house, like I told you, because it didn’t make sense to go all the way back to Bloomington. I got a room at a shitty motel. I barely slept. I was so pissed about Josh putting you through the wringer for no reason. The next morning, I waited for him in the parking lot at Stella’s. After an hour, during which I texted him multiple times with no answer, I drove back to Bloomington. I even got a fucking speeding ticket.”
“You never speed.” I can’t help but remember Miss Pert and her reckless driver. Slender fellow. What if it wasn’t Josh? What if it was Andy, setting up the tent and speeding away?
“I was upset, okay? Honestly, I’ve had these moments where I wonder if I made a huge mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“With you. Designing you for the show. With him in mind. I guess I feel like everything bad that happens to you...everything bad about him, about your relationship...even him disappearing or whatever...is my fault.”
Andy seems sincere, but I also have a vague memory of asking him Saturday night if he’d make me again for Josh, given the chance. And Andy saying he’d do it all over again. Is that real? Or did I dream it?
“Don’t blame yourself,” I say. “You couldn’t have predicted any of this.”
“You’re not pissed that we put you on the show?” he says softly. “That you ended up with Josh?”
“I love my husband,” I say. In spite of everything, it’s true. “He’s got his problems. I’ve got mine, too.”
“Nah,” says Andy, his eyes glassy with emotion. “You’re perfect, Julia Walden.”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Would being in love with me be enough of a motive for Andy to kill Josh? Especially if Andy realized the extent of my marriage troubles?
I never told anyone. Eden figured it out. But she’s the only one.
Eden. Her face flashes into my head so fast, the blood drains out of me.
