“So what, this is your revenge now? You and Jackson playing house to upset me?”
Carissa shrugged. “Interesting theory.”
Then he minimized it.
“You don’t even like him like that.”
“Do I not?”
Then he turned suspicious in the way unfaithful people so often do when they realize other people are also capable of keeping secrets.
He started checking the location history on the shared iPad. Started asking neighbors if they had seen her car. Started standing in the kitchen when she got home with the expression of a man convinced he had been wronged by being treated as he treated others.
One night, after Carissa came back from a gallery opening Jackson had invited her to, she found Nikki in the house.
Not visiting. Installed.
Shoes off by the door. Wineglass in hand. Curled into the corner of the couch while Damen sat too close beside her with the remote, both of them looking up at Carissa like they had spent the evening deciding how much of the truth they could force her to witness before she broke.
“What is she doing here?” Carissa asked.
Nikki crossed one leg over the other. “Spending time with someone who isn’t ashamed of wanting me around.”
Carissa looked at Damen. “You let her in.”