Chapter 7: Live

I sat up in his bed with the sheet against my chest.

On the screen, a reporter shouted, "When's the wedding?"

"Autumn," Vivica said. "His mother's planning everything."

Damon turned the TV off.

The room went very quiet.

"That's a lie," he said.

"Which part?"

"All of it. I haven't asked her anything. That ring isn't mine."

"Then whose is it?"

"I'd guess my grandmother's. My mother keeps it in a safe."

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

"Your mother gave her your grandmother's ring."

"Apparently."

I got out of bed and started looking for my clothes.

My jeans were downstairs. My sweater was somewhere near the couch.

I pulled on his shirt from the floor because it was closest.

"Call them," I said. "Call any reporter in this city and say it's a lie. Right now."

He sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees.

He didn't reach for his phone.

"Not tonight," he said.

I stopped with one button done.

"What?"

"I'll handle her. My way."

"Your way." I said it slowly. "Your way is a garage, Damon. Your way is three years of nobody knowing my name in your life."

"If I go out there tonight and call her a liar, she talks."

"About what?"

He looked at me and didn't answer.

"About what, Damon?"

"About why I was in that room."

"Then tell me first."

"Not like this."

"Not here. Not today. Not like this." I did the rest of the buttons with shaking hands. "You've got a lot of ways of saying no."

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