His Public Confession Was a Lie, So I Stopped Loving Him novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: The Black Thread

I walked into the Larkin Room at eleven o'clock on Friday night, after the last class had left and the last chair had been stacked.

The house lights were half down.

Ben was alone in the booth, taping labels on a row of cables.

He heard the door and did not turn around.

"We're closed," he said.

"I know."

"Then you're trespassing."

"Then arrest me," I said, and climbed the platform steps.

He turned his head at that, and I thought I saw the corner of his mouth move, and then he stopped it.

"What do you want, Rory?"

"Preston says a friend gave him my jacket."

His hand paused on the tape.

"A friend who owes him one," I said. "Those were his words. He said it to my face in a coffee shop, and when I asked who, he just smiled and walked out."

"He likes doing that."

"You live in his house."

"I live in a house he also lives in."

"Do you know who the friend is?"

Ben put down the tape.

For a moment he looked at the long rows of switches and dials, and not at me.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because somebody fixed my button."

That made him look up.

"The top button on that jacket was loose for a year," I said. "I never sewed it back. In Preston's photo, it's tight. The thread is black. Mine was brown."

"Maybe he fixed it himself."

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