Thought I Knew You(56)

The next day, as he packed to leave, I stood in the doorway of his room. “Sure you can’t stay?” I was aiming for airy, but my words fell like lead weights to the floor between us. I self-consciously crossed my arms.

He half-smiled as he carefully folded yesterday’s shirt into his duffel bag. “Dinner plans.” He avoided eye contact, purposefully vague. My pride kept me from asking anything more.

Before he left, he awkwardly kissed my cheek, lingering a bit too long. His face felt stubbled and rough. I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around his neck, and for a moment, our breathing synced, and my heart picked up an uneven, staccato beat.

I stepped back, breaking the spell, and gave him a wide smile. “Call me, okay?”

He nodded and loped down the walk.

When I looked out the window five minutes later, the car was idling at the curb, but before I could open the front door, he pulled away.





Two days later, I packed up the car, loaded the girls in, and flipped on the DVD player to the Disney princess movie of their choice. An hour into the drive, I remembered the day Leah went missing, Drew had called to talk to me about something. I had been so caught up in Leah, I completely forgot to ask him about it. I picked up my cell phone and dialed his number.



“Hey!” I said when he picked up. “Remember a few days ago, when you called? You said you wanted to talk to me about something.”

“Um, yeah, I remember.” His voice was halting, evasive. In the background, I heard a voice. Female? I couldn’t tell.

“Is this a bad time? I can call back later. I just remembered it…”

“Let me call you back in five minutes, okay?”

I said, “Sure,” and we hung up. About fifteen minutes later, my phone rang again.

“Hi, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t even have to call me back. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Remember how I had said I was seeing someone? She was here, but she had to leave.”

“Oh.” I didn’t have any response prepared. I tried to come up with conversation. What would I have said if Sarah talked about a man she was seeing? “Tell me about her. What’s her name?”

“Her name is Olivia. She’s a food critic.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” I hoped I sounded enthusiastic. “How did you meet?”

“We met at a benefit. A mutual friend set us up. Like a blind date. It was so weird; I’d never been on a blind date before.”

“Well… what’s she like? You’ve been seeing her for a few months now, right?”

“Yeah, about three now. She’s pretty great, very funny. I actually think you’d like her. It’s what I was going to talk to you about. I want you to meet her.”

I felt sucker punched. I could handle hearing about his girlfriends. Sort of. Meeting them would be another story. I briefly flashed back to all the years Drew had endured me being married. The shoe was on the other foot. I had pretended for years that he was unaffected by my love life, my dating, my marriage.



“Oh. It must be serious, then?” I tried to sound casual.

He coughed. “Yeah. I think it might be.” He sighed. “Timing,” he said softly.

“Yeah, it always sucks.” But I knew that for Drew to want me to meet one of his girlfriends, he had to be at least halfway in love with her. In love with her. I banged the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. I thought of everything Drew had done for me in the last few months. And the years he’d remained my closest confidant when it must have killed him at times. He had always thought of me then. The least I can do is think of him now.

I put a fake smile on my face, even though he couldn’t see it. I hoped the big smile at least made my next words feel believable. “I’d love to meet her, Drew. When?”

“Thanks for that. For pretending.” He laughed quietly. “I don’t know when. Soon. Can I bring her for dinner?”

“Yes, call me next week. We’ll figure out a date.” I made the excuse of not wanting to talk long while driving and ended the call.





I had my monthly meeting with Detective Reynolds the following Monday. He brought me the customary Boston Creams. After monitoring credit card history, bank accounts, and general social security activity—meaning Greg had not applied for another credit card, a name change, or opened any bank accounts—the police were noting Greg to be “most likely” deceased in his file. But since no direct evidence had been found, the file would remain open, but unsolved. After a year of Greg being missing—the anniversary was only two months away—our monthly meetings would be replaced by a brief appointment every six months, and then eventually, only if new information arose.