DEVIL IN THE WATERS // BOOK 9 // CHAPTER 12

The wadded material on Josh’s chest opened up to reveal familiar embroidered roses. They were her panties. On survival instinct she snatched them from his chest and hid them under the covers. Hyun was in their bed. But with the panties gone, there was nothing between them to hold their attention, and she looked into Josh’s eyes as the bewilderment settled in.

“Did you lose these?”

In Josh’s eyes she saw hurt; vile, whimpering hurt that reminded her of a beaten dog cowering before its abusive master. Her jaw slackened and dumbfoundedness dazzled around her like a merry-go-round. The longer their gazes stayed connected, the faster her heart beat; the more her pulse swelled her neck and blotted out her hearing.

All her deviousness, all her manipulations, her self-affirmed mastery, shattered around her like fragile porcelain. Josh had tossed evidence of her betrayal in her face and caught her flat-footed. And now that he’d struck her dumb, no believable defense could come to her lips that would save her. Guilt beamed from her face and nothing could stop it. All that came was the urge to burst into tears.

She looked down, dipping her chin. To Hyun, she said, “I think we should get up.”

It was like all the lies she needed to tell couldn’t have Hyun as an audience. Like what Josh might believe, Hyun wouldn’t.

Over her shoulder she saw Hyun regarding her. Hyun was ready to leave. Hyun didn’t want to be in their bed together with them, anyway. Five minutes ago Kimmy had been toying with the idea of plying Josh right away, tempting him with Hyun, oblivious to his discovery, pumping him how it must have been like a fantasy to come home to her and Hyun in bed together that way. That had been the plan. A nefarious plan to enjoin her husband in her wickedness. The last plan in her long line of strategic immoral victories.

Hyun whispered, “Okay,” and shuffled out of their bed.

***

In the hallway, Hyun slipped her shoes on, Kimmy and Josh leaning on walls.

Kimmy said, “Sorry, Hyun. We’ll do brunch next week. Are you free next week?” It didn’t matter. There would be no next week. Nothing was going to be the same once Hyun left the apartment.

Hyun said, “That sounds good. And no worries, I know you were up all night, Josh.”

Josh stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, hands wedged into his armpits, like he was trying to protect his heart. He nodded, his expression glum, bags under his eyes.

A hard lump sat in her throat, somewhere around her collar bones, making it difficult to swallow. Her temples throbbed. Hyun looked from Josh to Kimmy, and Kimmy struggled to find some convincing reason for Hyun to stay. Because if Hyun stayed, Josh couldn’t expose her for the disgusting villain she was. The longer she put it off, the longer it wasn’t true.

But it was true.

Hyun came close for a hug and Kimmy embraced her way too hard. “I had so much fun last night,” she said, her voice a constricted squeak. She sniffled, and her eyes swelled with wet.

Hyun stepped back, knowing something was wrong now, sure of it, her plump mouth condensing to a dollop and her eyes averting to the floor.

Josh said, “Say hi to Sophie.”

“I will—”

“Yeah, give her— give her a kiss from us,” Kimmy said, voice quavering, grasping at the ephemeral connection of family; feeling the sweetness of good times when she wasn’t a cheater, wasn’t a cruel betrayer. Regretting it, wishing she could take it all back.

“Okay, guys, I’ll see you,” Hyun said, flashing a timid wave, then stepping out of the apartment door. The second it closed, Kimmy’s shoulders raised to her ears in anticipation of an explosion from her husband. Either he would scream at her or, what she expected, he would collapse and break down in sobs and reject her consolation with flailing arms. A thousand times over she would prefer Josh scream at her over the latter. She didn’t think she could bear the latter.

But Josh did neither.

Instead, he turned his back to her and walked into the kitchen. She went to the apartment door, leaning on it, sliding the lock in place. She stared at the spot where Josh had been standing. It would be nice to remain in the hallway forever.

In the kitchen she found Josh standing with his back to her, one hand supporting his sleep-deprived weight on the counter, the other hand on his hip. She said nothing, standing and watching, waiting to see what he would do. He’d slept over at Devlin’s and Devlin had given him her panties. Josh had asked her if she’d given the bag to Devlin and she’d said she did; he’d cut her off from any defense. The asking of that question proved Josh knew exactly what kind of liar she was. What other way would her panties get in Devlin’s hands?

The question remained: why would Devlin give Josh her panties?

Josh cleared his throat, then spoke in a draggy monotone. “I can’t do this anymore, Kimmy.”

At last, hearing the words got her stomach fluttering. A swell of torment welled up inside her and she was on the verge of doing what she thought Josh would do: collapse in a sobbing heap. But all the bad she’d done, all the terrible things she’d done to this man she claimed she loved could never be made right by the shedding of tears. There was no scenario where he would come to comfort her, shush her and make the hurt go away. She deserved all of the pain she felt.

All the angst of her betrayal done in secret was nothing compared to the person she loved knowing she’d done it. And done it to them.

The betrayal was so meaningless, so arbitrary. What had she ever done it for?

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, Josh,” she said, surprised at how brittle her voice sounded.

“I’m in awe,” he said.

Her lips wriggled and squirmed as she struggled not to cry. She knuckled an eye, the wet of tears on her skin. No words came to her. For the whole summer, lies spilled from her tongue like spider silk. Now nothing.

Josh turned. He looked hollowed out and full of pain. His eyes met hers and she could see tears in them. “I’m in awe, but I can’t do it anymore. It hurts too much.”

She nodded, waiting, sniffling.

He said, “Okay?”

She nodded again.

Josh took a deep breath and let it out. It was shaky. He wiped his eyes. Then when it proved too much, he snatched a paper towel from the roll and blotted them. His shoulders shook.

She couldn’t stop the tears now, either.

Josh cleared his throat and looked to the kitchen ceiling. “I thought I wanted it, but I don’t.” He lowered his chin to face her. “I appreciate it—but that one was too much.”

She blinked and narrowed her eyes on him, for the first time thinking maybe she misunderstood this whole thing. “Okay,” she whispered, scalp tingling.

“When I found them, I thought it was real. I didn’t...”

“Thought what was real?”

He threw up his hands. “That you didn’t put them there. That I really found them.”

Put them where? Her ears thudded with her rapid pulse again as she struggled to comprehend.

“I’m in awe,” Josh continued. “In awe you would do that. Could do it. But I don’t want it. I know you think I do, but I don’t.”

She stepped closer, worried she misunderstood and that he would reject her. He didn’t push her back, but she stayed an arm’s length away—she didn’t deserve to be close. Her eyes narrowed to hyper-focused slits, her hearing returned as all her senses sought to absorb any sliver of information that could save her life. The urge came to spin lies, but she wasn’t even sure where she stood, where to aim. She existed on a wafer-thin sheet of ice.

Josh met her gaze. “You hid them where I would find them. I found them. But . . . But it wasn’t exciting. It had been a weird night, and it was the last thing I needed.”

“Josh,” she said, ready to pronounce the truest thing she could. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s gone too far.”

“I didn’t . . . I never wanted any of this to hurt you.”

“You did,” he said, looking at the kitchen floor. “You did because I wanted it to hurt. I told you I liked it.”

“Josh . . .”

“I blame myself.”

“Don’t, Josh, that’s—”

His eyes met hers. “What did you do after you dropped Devlin off at his hotel room?”

Something unsettling flickered in his gaze. She said, “What— when?”

“At his hotel room in Cayman.”

Her mind raced a million miles an hour. What had Devlin told him? “After dinner?”

Josh’s gaze was hard. “Was there another time?”

“Yeah,” she said, defiant but timid. “From the lawyer’s office. I had that meeting.”

Josh’s hardness melted and his eyes drifted to the floor like someone had unplugged him. He folded his arms over his chest again and bent at the waist like his insides were aching.

“Josh, what did Devlin say to you?”

Josh made a sound of discomfort, not answering, only breathing. She called his name again.

“Devlin didn’t say anything.”

He panted now like he had stomach cramps, like in agonizing pain. The tears returned to her eyes and she couldn’t help herself: she reached to touch his face. Josh pulled his head away. “Josh . . .”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, upright again, wincing. He rubbed his brow, eyes closed. Panties. Something about Devlin in Cayman. She’d fucked Josh’s head up so much she’d broken him.

“Josh, whatever it is, it’s over,” she said, wishing this was the discussion of her infidelity and they could past it as easy as this, knowing somehow though that she’d got away with it again. But this time had been so close she’d scorched Josh, and now she saw the effect, she didn’t like it at all. “I won’t do any of it again.”

Josh’s arms fell to rest at his sides, shoulders slumped. He regarded her fully, expression blank, then stepping forward to cup his hands to the sides of her face. She couldn’t help flinching.

He said, “You’re mine.”

She blinked, sniffled, then overflowed with tears. “I’m yours,” she said, voice thick with emotion.

He let her face go and turned his back to her, heading out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom. She stood alone in the kitchen for a very long time, staring out the windows in the living room, at the gray summer day, wondering what just happened. She looked to the fridge door, to the stove, like they were witnesses she needed to confer with to get their opinion.

Whatever had just happened, she’d come out alive. Josh didn’t know. She shook her head with disbelief, resisting the urge to chuckle. She bent over the counter, let her forehead touch the cool surface and rubbed her fingertips on her scalp. Unbelievable.

Then she was up and moving, opening the cupboards, drawing out items and putting them on the counter. She would bake lotus leaf bread, cut up the left over steak in the fridge, and make one of Josh’s favorites: Gua Bao, her grandmother’s recipe, buns with stewed meat inside; Tiger Bites Cow.

Gray day outside, a Saturday, maybe they could watch movies together and eat all day. Josh needed cheering up. He needed to be zapped back to life. They could play video games. Tonight they could order pizza. Maybe Meyer would come over. And Sophie. Steve. Oh, and Hyun. Hyun could come, too.

She dusted flour from her hands, wiped them on a tea towel and headed down the hall to the bedroom. Halfway there, she heard an unfamiliar sound. At first, so she slowed, tuning her ears to the faint sound by cocking her head. A half dozen or more coughs, then three longer strokes. Some strange Morse code. By the time she made it to the bedroom door, she knew what it was. The door was closed but unlatched. She nudged it open.

Josh sat on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands. He was crying. No, sobbing. Trying to be quiet, not wanting to be overheard. The sight broke her heart. But the last thing she could do was to go to him. Anything she believed moments ago was untrue. Josh knew what she’d done. Those were the sobs of a man whose wife had done to him what she had done.

She backed away, feeling as unendingly empty as the yawning universe, a pin prick on the ocean’s surface, a nothing in vast empty cold. In her cat basket room, she closed the door, no emotions yet, nothing on her face that would show the bear-trap realization that had just severed her relationship with a man she actually loved.

Around to the far side of her sewing table she slumped down, her back against the cold metal side of a filing cabinet. She couldn’t breathe. Breath wouldn’t come in. She sat wild-eyed, trying to draw in oxygen. Her chest had seized. She worked her mouth around, rolled to her side, elbow on the floor. At last, shaky, stertorous air chugged into her stiff chest. But now she hyperventilated. She crouched on the floor like prayer time, eyes wide as could be, staring at a joint in the laminate flooring and willing herself not to zip off the face of the planet and into the sun.

“Oh God, oh God,” she murmured, arm reaching up, hand searching the sewing table for the cordless phone. She clutched it to her chest and lay on her back, trying to quash the ring panic that had overwhelmed her. Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths.

At last, though shaky and tentative, she thumb-dialed a number and put the phone to her ear.

Josh knew. He knew what she’d done. Beautiful, innocent Josh knew what she’d done.

Devlin answered.

She said, “I want— I w-want you to f-fucking die.”

Devlin said, “Who is this?” Coy, condescending.

“It’s over,” she said. “You and me are over.”

“Kimmy. What’s this all about?”

“You know what it’s about, you fucking asshole,” she spat. “I’m calling to tell you it’s over.”

“Josh got home okay? He wasn’t here when I got up.”

“I told you. I fucking told you not to do it. Don’t hurt him.”

“I didn’t do a thing, Kimmy. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s over,” she said.

Devlin chuckled. “It’s not over, Kimmy. It really isn’t.”

“It’s over, Devlin.”

“Kimmy, Kimmy,” he sighed with manufactured patience, and she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen to me, okay: It isn’t over. Not over at all. In fact, this is where it gets good.”