Page 38 of Thicker Than Water
She still doesn’t speak. Her fingers cage her lips. But she rotates the laptop toward me and points to the screen. I bend toward it, where an email thread is open. A quick scan reveals a brisk back-and-forth between Jason and Maeve, but I hold off on reading the messages before checking the date for context: last Saturday at 3:52 p.m.
Jason emailed first:I want to apologize again about what happened last night. And I need to know that you’re okay. You’re not answering my calls, so if I don’t hear back from you soon, I’m coming over.
Maeve was quick to reply at 3:55:Don’t cot the house last night that you need to stay away from me from now on, and I meant it.
I narrow my eyes at the screen, pull the laptop closer.
The whole thing was a big mistake,Jason responded,but I’m hoping we can find some way past this. You mean too much to me. Please, let’s talk. I need to know that everything’s okay.
When I back away, Julia’s wiping her cheek with her wrist.
“I don’t get it,” I say. “What is this about?”
Julia’s answer is choked, her words thick with misery. “Jason cheated on me.”
I leap back a step. “What?No he didn’t. How did you getthatfromthis?”
“Something happened between them, at Maeve’s house, it sounds like. Something he felt the need to apologize for, something he’s worried about losing her over. What else could it be?”
“Um, literally anything else,” I say. But as I reread the thread, I understand her thought process. The pieces are there—a big mistake;you mean too much to me;I told you when you left the house last night—but Julia’s conclusion doesn’t make sense when applied to Jason.
“They didnothave an affair,” I promise her.
Because Jason isn’t the guy who cheats. He’s the guy who gave me half his allowance one summer, when he knew I was saving up for a pair of purple Skechers. He’s the guy who slept on my bedroom floor for three nights in a row after he rescued me from Clive at that high school party. He’s the guy who checks my smoke detectors whenever he’s at my apartment, who covers me in our mom’s quilt when I fall asleep on his and Julia’s couch. Jason is thoughtful and dependable and so thoroughlygood. There’s no room for infidelity in a man like that.
Only a year ago, he comforted me about my breakup with Wyatt. He’s a wimp for blood, but he pushed for slasher films during Movie Night and encouraged me to “picture Wyatt’s face on every corpse.” There’s simply no way he watched what I went through after Wyatt cheated on me, then turned around and did the same to Julia. Jason wouldn’t. Hewouldn’t.
But Julia’s still staring at the messages, her eyes pinched with anguish.
Normally, it would offend me, Julia entertaining this absurd theory. But I understand how disorienting it is, just the idea of betrayal. The moment Wyatt confessed to me, the room reeled around me; even the light fixtures spun.
I take Julia’s hand, which is limp in my grip. “My brother is the most loyal and honest person I know. You know that, Jules, come on.”
“I’m not so sure anymore,” she says, her voice distant now. “He’s kept so much from me. Maybe an affair with Maeve is just another of his secrets.”
I tilt my head in confusion. “Huh? What secrets has Jason kept from you?”
“The promotion. Where he went after the conference. The money.”
“He didn’t know about the money!”
“Not Gavin’s money,” Julia says. “Or, I don’t know, maybe itwasGavin’s money. Maybe that’s who he gave it to.”
“Huh?” I say again. I let my hand separate from hers. “Who he gave what to? I don’t know what you’re talking about. And in terms of where he went last Friday night, we’ve been over that, he was probably just—”
Our eyes jerk toward each other, hers damp, mine wide. I can almost hear the synchronized click of our minds as the timeline—the conference on Friday, the emails from Saturday, Jason’s apology forwhat happened last night—snaps into place.
“Oh my god,” I say. “Jason was withMaeveafter the conference! Only— That bitch! We specificallyaskedher at the hospital if she knew where he went. And she told us no. And then! When you told her the cops were focused on Jason, she was like, ‘That’s impossible!’ I assumed she meant it’s impossible because Jason’s not a killer—but no! She meant it wasliterallyimpossible that he could have done it.She knew he didn’t, because she was with him at the time. And she didn’t say a thing!”
Julia’s shoulders sag. Her gaze drifts away. “Because she didn’t want me to know they slept together.”
“No—it has to be something else. I have no idea why she lied to us, but—” I march toward the kitchen counter, dig through my purse in search of my keys. “We’re going to find out.”
Chapter ElevenJULIA
On the drive to Maeve’s in Hillstead, I can think only one thing: how foolish I’ve been. Sienna’s chattering in the driver’s seat, headlights cutting through the dusk. Again and again, she tries to convince me that Jason would never cheat, but my body tells me otherwise. Reading those emails tonight, I felt the same punch in my gut as I experienced in December, when Jason explained what he’d done with our Europe fund behind my back. And now the betrayal sits hard and huge against my belly, as if I’m held to this seat by a boulder instead of a belt.
Even with my mother’s warnings, I never saw this coming. Not when Jason bought Maeve a birthday present—some earrings from a farmers market we went to together. Not when he invited her to Thanksgiving last year, even before a snowstorm had canceled her flight to her sister’s. Not when he paused movies, retracted his arm from my shoulder to return Maeve’s texts.
