Chapter 1: The Man in My Swimming Pool
“Are you kidding me?””
The words escaped my mouth before the grocery bags hit the patio.
One second, I was walking into the backyard of the Georgia mansion I had called home for nearly three years, thinking about dinner and whether I had remembered to buy lemon juice.
The next, I was watching my boyfriend kiss another woman in my swimming pool.
Not a stranger passing through the neighborhood. Not someone who had accidentally wandered into the wrong backyard.
A woman in a blue swimsuit had her arms wrapped around Marcus's neck. His hands rested on her waist. Their faces were close, their eyes closed, and neither had noticed me standing beside the patio doors.
My eggs rolled across the stone tiles.
A carton of strawberries burst open near my shoes.
Marcus opened his eyes first.
For half a second, he looked almost annoyed, as if I had interrupted something inconvenient.
Then he saw my face.
He released the woman so quickly that she stumbled backward.
“Lauren?””
I stared at him.
The late-afternoon sun reflected off the pool, making the water shimmer around his bare shoulders. His trimmed beard was damp. His navy swim trunks clung to his waist.
On the lounge chair beside the pool lay his shirt, trousers, and the woman's cover-up.
Evidence arranged so casually that it almost looked deliberate.
Marcus raised both hands.
“Baby, please don't make a scene.””
I looked at the scattered groceries.
Then at the clothes.
Then at the man who had told me that morning that he loved me.
“Don't make a scene?”” I repeated.
He glanced toward the neighboring houses.
“Just listen to me.””
“I'm listening.””
The woman finally spoke.
“Marcus, you said she wouldn't be home until tonight.””
Her words hung in the air.
Marcus turned toward her.
“Brianna, stop talking.””
Brianna.
I knew the name.
Two weeks earlier, I had seen it flash across his phone. When I asked who she was, Marcus told me she worked in marketing and had been helping with a new business account.
I had believed him.
That was the part that suddenly hurt more than the kiss.
“You told her I wouldn't be home?”” I asked.
Marcus climbed one step toward the ladder.
“Lauren, this is complicated.””
“No. Complicated is filing taxes. Complicated is renovating a house. This is cheating.””
Brianna climbed out of the pool and grabbed a towel.
“You should probably know he told me you two were practically separated.””
I looked at her.
“Practically?””
She swallowed.
“He said you were staying together because of the house.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“Brianna, get dressed.””
“Don't order me around,” she snapped.
“You told me this was over.””
I almost laughed.
Two people who had been lying to me were now arguing because neither had received the version of the truth they wanted.
I walked toward the lounge chair and gathered their clothes.
Marcus watched me.
“Lauren, what are you doing?””
I didn't answer.
I carried everything to the outdoor fireplace.
A small fire was already burning behind its protective stone surround.
“Don't,” Marcus said.
I dropped his shirt and trousers into the flames.
He lunged toward the steps.
“Are you insane?””
“No,” I replied.
“I'm finally paying attention.””
Brianna wrapped the towel tighter around herself.
“This is ridiculous. Marcus, I'm leaving.””
“Then leave,” he snapped.
She stared at him.
“You said you owned this place.””
I stopped moving.
Marcus went completely still.
Brianna looked between us.
“What?””
I turned toward her.
“What exactly did he say?””
Marcus climbed out of the pool.
“Lauren, don't listen to her.””
Brianna's expression changed.
“He told me this was his house. He said he was letting you stay here until you figured out your next move.””
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
My house.
My name was on the deed.
My inheritance had paid for the property, the renovations, and almost every piece of furniture inside it.
Marcus had moved in three years earlier with two suitcases and a promise that we were building a future together.
Apparently, he'd been building a different story for everyone else.
I walked toward the wall-mounted security panel beside the patio door.
Marcus noticed.
His face changed instantly.
“Lauren, don't touch that.””
I pressed my thumb against the screen.
A soft electronic beep sounded.
Then another.
The security system began its activation sequence.
“What the hell are you doing?”” Marcus demanded.
“Restoring my security settings.””
“You can't lock me out!””
I looked at him through the glass reflection of the panel.
“Why not?””
He took another step.
“Because I live here!””
“Not anymore.””
The gate motor began humming somewhere beyond the garden.
Marcus stopped looking at me and stared toward the driveway.
A moment later, the security panel displayed a notification.
<PRIVATE_PERSON> — EMERGENCY ACCESS REQUEST.
I frowned.
The name wasn't mine.
It wasn't Marcus's, either.
I tapped the notification.
A second message appeared.
*SECONDARY PROPERTY OWNER ACCESS: DENIED.*
My stomach tightened.
“Marcus?””
He didn't answer.
I turned toward him.
“Why does this system think there's another owner?””
His mouth opened.
Then the front gate buzzer sounded.
May you like
And the name appearing on the security camera made my blood run cold.
It was my mother.
