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What's Done In the Dark(71)

By:ReShonda Tate Billingsley


“To my wife, the birthday girl,” Greg said, holding his glass as the others joined him. “The mother of my child, the love of my life, the woman who . . . broke my heart in a million pieces.”

I froze as he lost his smile, and his eyes began filling with tears.

No, no, no, no, no. But it was too late. Greg turned back to the crowd. “I know this isn’t the platform for this.” He put his hand over his heart. “But when you’re heartbroken, you sometimes do things you might not otherwise do. My first instinct was to take a pistol and put a bullet in my wife’s head.” Several gasps filled the room, and Greg managed a terse chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’m not a violent man because if I were . . .” He shook his head as he let out a slow hiss.

“Greg, don’t . . .” I managed to whisper.

He ignored me. His best friend stood and eased next to him. “Come on, man, don’t do this,” he whispered.

Greg jerked away from him. “No. No, everyone needs to know that the woman we’re celebrating is the scum of the earth.” He turned to Paula, who was looking mortified.

“Greg, what in the world are you doing?” she asked from the table directly in front of us. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to Felise!”

That made Greg crack up laughing. “Look at you, Paula. Always coming to your friend’s side.” He wagged a finger at her. “What did you tell me on our wedding day? ‘You’d better not hurt my girl.’ Well, you should’ve told your girl that she’d better not hurt me.”

“Greg, stop,” Paula said. I wanted her to stop coming to my defense, but I was frozen in my seat. “Whatever is going on with you and Felise can be worked out,” she sternly added.

That made Greg laugh again. “Can it, huh? Let me see if you feel the same way after I tell you what she did.”

I finally managed to find my voice. “Greg, don’t.”

He ignored me and continued. “Do you know why she wasn’t there when Steven died? In the beginning?”

“No, Greg. Please.”

He continued to ignore me. All eyes in the room were planted on us like this was some reality show.

“She wasn’t there because she felt guilty.”

I saw the confused look on Paula’s face. “About what?”

Greg continued. “I’m glad you asked.”

“Greg,” his friend said, tugging at his arm again. “Come on, man.”

Greg turned to him. “Benny, have a seat, man. You’re not going to stop me.”

“This isn’t the time or the place,” Benny said.

“When is the time?” Greg shouted. “When is the time to let everyone know what my wife did?”

I saw a look of defeat cross Benny’s face, and he looked at me apologetically as he sank back down in the chair.

Greg spun back toward Paula. “Felise wasn’t there for you in the days after Steven’s death because she’s the reason your husband died.”

“What?” Paula said, her brow creasing in confusion.

“Oh, she didn’t kill him,” Greg continued, “at least not outright, but somewhere in their passionate night of lovemaking, I’m sure he overexerted himself and that led to him dying.”

Paula frowned, then looked at me like she was expecting me to jump up and call Greg a liar. Every eye in the room was planted on me.

“Felise, what is he talking about?” she said. Paula’s mother was sitting next to her, just as horrified. In fact, everyone in the room was in shock.

I stared at my friend. The only thing that would come out of my mouth was, “I–I, ah . . .”

“Oh, she’s speechless,” Greg said, “so let me share the story for you. My wife, your best friend, and your husband met up for a secret rendezvous at the Four Seasons.”

“We didn’t meet up,” I mumbled, my head lowered.

But Greg ignored me. He was on a roll. “Oh, I forgot the kicker. This was on our wedding anniversary!” He hit the podium and laughed like a madman. “Our wedding anniversary!”

Paula stood, holding onto the back of her chair like she was trying to steady herself. “This can’t be true. Felise, tell me it’s not true.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Greg said. “That’s why she couldn’t come by your side in the beginning. She felt guilty. Not enough to come clean, but guilty nonetheless. But she’s such a liar that she stole some of our daughter’s college tuition to pay off a blackmailer to keep her little secret safe.”

Paula was shaking now. “Felise, what is he talking about? You’re my best friend. Tell me this isn’t true.” She came closer to the front table. “Tell me this isn’t true,” she slowly repeated when I didn’t respond.