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“You knew there was a wife.”

She pointed at herself. “You knew there were vows. A marriage. A life. And instead of ever asking the woman actually living in that house what was happening inside it, you took the word of the man trying to get inside your bed.”

My throat burned. “He told me—”

“Stop telling me what the fuck he told you!”

I jumped.

Ravenna’s tears fell. “That’s your problem!”

She pointed at me. “Everything is Caleb told me. Caleb said. Caleb promised. Caleb explained. Did Blair ever fucking think? Did Blair ever look around?”

I looked away.

Ravenna looked around again. “So this is his other life. You decorated it?”

I nodded.

“Of course you did.”

She laughed. “Homewrecker with a designer’s license.”

My head snapped up. “I’m an interior designer.”

“I know what you are.”

She walked farther into the apartment. “So what? He meets you here?”

I hesitated. “He mainly comes to my house for lunch.”

Ravenna’s face twisted. “Of course.”

I hated that response. “What?”

“That explains why that motherfucker suddenly loved leaving the office for lunch.”

My stomach turned. “He stayed here more in the beginning… I guess when you were out of town.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

“But he started being here less once work picked up.”

Ravenna’s eyebrows lifted. “Work.”

She crossed her arms. “So you thought he stopped being here so much because he was working a lot?”

“Yes.”

“And where did you think he slept?”

“Here.”

She looked around. “At this apartment?”

“Yes.”

Ravenna laughed. “Oh, Blair.”