4: 4
Paula's face went green. She bit down hard on her lip.
She clearly couldn't believe it, that a man could look at her and feel nothing at all.
My wife and I had five years behind us. Except for her, I never gave another woman a second glance.
"I… the room's just hot. I'm fine."
She stood frozen in place, fingertips clenched into the hem of her shirt.
She had no choice but to let go.
I gave her one cold, sweeping look, walked out of the complex, and flagged down a cab.
My hand went into my pocket and came out with a white plastic bag.
A little powder still clung to the inside.
I'd found it in the trash can in her kitchen while I was making the sobering-up broth.
In my past life she said I'd put something in the broth. This had to be it.
I called a friend right away, pulled some strings, and found a lab.
Triple the price was fine.
I just needed the results before eleven tonight.
"Done."
His word settled the knot in my chest.
I got home.
My wife was in the master bedroom, coaxing the baby to sleep, half dozing herself.
When she saw me, she pressed a finger to her lips.
"Keep it down."
Remembering how she'd stood by my side, refusing to waver, throwing Paula's story back in her face, something in my chest twisted tight, like a hand had closed around it.
Less than two hours left.
I didn't want her to worry, so I played it easy and pulled the bedroom door shut.
Miles was sprawled on the couch, breathing steady.
But I knew he was faking.
The moment Paula came for me, he'd spring up, camera rolling the whole time.
Backing her up, laying it all on me.
I just couldn't figure out why he hated me.
From high school through the end of college, we'd never been apart.
He was my closest friend. He'd been my best man.
Why would he throw in with Paula to bring me down?
My mind wouldn't quiet. I went out to the balcony, the cigarette between my fingers glowing and fading.
A sliver of light arced across the phone screen in the dark.
The lab report from my friend.
When I saw that small line of text in the bottom corner, the weight finally lifted off my chest.
Half an hour later, a burst of frantic pounding hit the door.
Miles rubbed his eyes, sat up, and went to open it.
Paula's hair was a mess, her eyes red, her blouse hanging thin off one shoulder, ready to slip.
She pointed at me, tears swimming in her eyes.
"Bruce! You have no shame! I'm your wife's best friend. How could you do this to me?"
Her voice was loud enough to wake the neighbors.
When they heard her, their eyes went wide.
Some of them quietly raised phones to record.
Seeing me stunned into silence, Paula only cried harder. "I never thought you'd use the sobering-up broth as cover, that you'd slip that kind of drug into it, and then you… you—"
She choked on the words, unable to get the rest out.
My wife hurried over, asking what was going on.
Miles yanked me by the collar and drove a fist into the corner of my mouth.
"Bruce, I never took you for this kind of man!"
He turned to my wife, righteous fury all over his face.
"He forced himself on Paula. You should divorce him, and fast!"
Hiss.
I worked my jaw, teeth clenched against the sting in my cheek.
I'd braced myself to dodge early, but I was a beat too slow, and he'd split the corner of my lip.
"I didn't do anything like that!"
My voice came out hard and clear.
"Where's your proof?"
Paula lowered her eyes and wiped at her tears, and a faint smile ghosted at the corner of her mouth before vanishing just as fast.
"Who says I don't have any?"
She pulled up footage on her phone and made a point of zooming in on the timestamp in the bottom corner.
"I'm an influencer. I keep cameras at home for safety. It's all right there. You waited until I wasn't even conscious and forced yourself on me!"
I frowned, my eyes on her screen.
She'd fallen into my arms, and I'd lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom.
That little stretch was enough to nail me to the post.
"No, Bruce would never do this. There has to be a misunderstanding!" My wife tried to explain, but Paula shoved her, and she nearly went down.
I caught her in time.
"Jessica, are you covering for your husband? I'm supposed to be your best friend!"
Paula reeled off my crimes and threw a crumpled ball of bedsheet out of her handbag.
Her fan club behind her erupted.
Even the neighbors started pointing at me.
"God, he looks so respectable, and behind closed doors he actually went after his wife's best friend."
"That sheet's evidence. If this blows up, he's finished."
Paula lifted her chin, triumphant, her eyes full of contempt and challenge.
"I was going to just swallow all of this myself, but the thought of a man like you getting off free, I can't stand it!"
"I have to press charges. Everyone's going to see what you really are!"
The best-friend crew behind her turned their fire on my wife.
In my past life it was these same people who shoved my wife into the river, and not one of them lifted a hand to save her.
By the time I got there, all that was left were two cold bodies.
I drew in a deep breath, my gaze cutting across the phone cameras of Miles and Paula.
The flashes were blinding in the dark.
Lighting up my face.
And lighting up the scheme behind their eyes.
"Are you finished?"
I smiled coldly and slid the sports action camera off my waist.
"I think there's something wrong with your footage."
"Now it's time to look at my evidence."
