Chapter 29 The Emotional Fallout
the emotional fallout [trope]
the inevitable, soul-crushing moment after the case is closed when the detective (or amateur sleuth, who really should be in therapy) stares into the middle distance, questioning their life choices; symptoms include insomnia, excessive whiskey consumption, and monologuing about the darkness of human nature
“Still no word from Rafael?” Paige asks, burrowing farther into the couch as her spoon scrapes against the bottom of the bowl she’s holding.
Immediately, I set the phone down and meet her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy from hours of crying. The skin beneath is dark and smudged, and tear tracks still cling to her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m just…”
“You’re worried, I get it.” She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Does it make me a horrible person if I say I hope she jumped in front of the train?”
“No, because you don’t mean it.”
“Don’t I?”
I shake my head. Of course she doesn’t want Vanessa to be hurt or, worse, dead.
She’s just rightfully heartbroken. Traumatized, angry, confused.
Hell, who wouldn’t be? I’ve seen Paige pour out love for years, barely getting any back.
And now, with Vanessa, it really felt like she’d found something good.
Something that would withstand the test of time.
But she’s a stalker. A liar, and a sick individual. A murderer, too… right?
Right, I tell myself, brushing the thought away.
“I just don’t get it.” She puts the bowl down, the little ice cream left now a sad brown liquid. “What was her plan? She knows how close we are—if anything, dating me would only close the door on anything romantic happening between the two of you.”
I set my bowl down on the coffee table. “I don’t think there’s anything rational about what she did, Paige. She murdered people—actual people. For a podcast.”
“For you.”
I exhale, bringing my knees to my chest. “Yeah. She’s just…”
“Crazy.”
“Sick, probably,” I correct. I cup her knee. “She needs help. And you need tons of ice cream, un-romantic movies, and nights out.”
“Yeah.” She attempts a smile, but it resembles a grimace more than anything else.
“I knew we were going to break up, you know?” With a pout, she sinks back into the couch.
“I mean, I didn’t know all of this, but we’ve been at odds for a while now.
Constant petty arguments… It was exhausting.
Some nights I just avoided going home out of fear she might come over. ”
I think back to the scene I witnessed at The Oak last week. “I guess that explains last Thursday,” I say. “You said you were at Vanessa’s, but I went there, looking for you, and you weren’t there.”
A sniffle as she bends her legs to cradle her knees. “Yeah.”
“So where did you go?”
“To my parents’ house, at first. But they were getting worried, so Theo got me a room at the Wildflower Inn.” She sniffles again. “It was sweet.”
Oh. So that’s why he had that key card. And maybe that’s why the killer—Vanessa—had one, too. To stalk her girlfriend, of all people. “Why didn’t you tell me, Paige?”
“Because.” She pauses, her gaze distant as she loses herself in thought. “You’re already so skeptical of love, and then you finally found Rafael. I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.”
I grip her hand. “Paige, that’s preposterous. I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me about your love life. About your problems.”
“I know.” She smooths over the throw blanket next to her. I swear she looks so sad, even her curls look flatter. “Funny, though, isn’t it? I called you paranoid for thinking you were dating a murderer, and it turns out I was.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. I hand her the remote, and as she lazily flips through channels, I can’t help but glance at the phone. Still no news from Rafael except for “Police at the scene. All good.”
Someone really needs to teach that man how to text, because none of that tells me enough information about what happened. Is Vanessa okay? Is he? Did he give the police the USB stick? Did they believe him?
“Maybe you were right after all,” Paige says, tucking the blanket under her chin. “Love is just a construct we cling to so we’ll forget that we’re ultimately alone in a flawed world.”
“You don’t believe that, Paige.”
“Maybe I do.”
No, she doesn’t. Sometimes I think she likes the thought of being in a relationship more than the people she dates. That she wants me to be in love so we’ll both experience this magic feeling she longs for so much.
“You know how you told me that the reason I never fell in love was that I kept everyone at arm’s length so I wouldn’t get hurt?”
“What do I know?” she mutters.
“No, I think you’re right.”
She frowns. “Well, now I’m conflicted. I’m mad at love, but I love being right.”
“Love is terrifying, Paige. I don’t know how you do it.
How you get your heart broken, brush your knees off, and jump on that horse again and again.
I mean, you give so much power to someone else.
The power to break you, to destroy you. And then you trust that they’ll take care of everything fragile you’ve given them.
Hope they don’t drop it or lose it along the way. ”
“Is that how you feel about Rafael?”
My lips pinch. “It’s only been two weeks, Paige.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“And we haven’t even had sex.”
“Also not an answer.”
I puff out an exasperated breath, but before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the door. We both jump up, but Paige remains in front of the couch while I sprint to the door and open it. I meet Rafael’s eyes, then land against his chest hard enough to make him grunt.
“You okay?”
Me? Am I okay? God, I’ll cry. “Are you?”
“I’m fine. Hey, Paige.” His hand rubs softly against my back, and my fists are probably hurting the skin of his back where I’m clutching at him. “Let’s go in. What do you think?”
I nod, though I can’t fathom the thought of letting go of him now. I was so worried something had happened to him, but he’s okay. He’s all in one piece. Mine. My Rafael.
“Okay,” he says, awkwardly turning around and walking without letting me go. I don’t protest but let him drag me inside the house as I inhale the scent of his chest for a few more moments.
Once the door closes, I reluctantly loosen my arms, my hands still roaming over his body to make sure no part of him is hurt. “What happened? I’ve been worried out of my mind.”
“I know, I…” Eyes shifting to Paige, he says, “Vanessa’s in custody.”
Paige sniffles, and I join her by the couch, rubbing her back. “So it’s true?” she asks. “I mean, not that I didn’t believe you, but—”
“It’s true. They’re charging her with multiple homicide, stalking, breaking and entering… among other things.” He presses his lips tight. “I’m sorry.”
Paige looks small and fragile, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She stands on shaky legs, her fists balled tightly at her sides. “Okay. I’m going home.”
“What? No, Paige. Please stay.”
“This house is at full capacity already,” she says, gathering her things. “And besides, no offense, but I really don’t feel like being around a couple right now.”
I watch Rafael, whose eyes dart to me, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Are you sure?” I insist. “There’s plenty of room, and we promise to keep the… romance to a minimum.”
“I’m sure.” She gives me a quick hug. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah.” I walk her to the door, then watch her step away, a heavy weight settling in my stomach.
I close the door slowly and lean against it. I should’ve done more, said something better. She’s always been there for me, and now that she’s the one who’s in need, I feel perfectly useless.
“How’s she doing?” Rafael’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Turning around, I see him standing a few steps away, hands shoved into his leather jacket pockets, his brow creased with concern.
“I’m worried about her,” I admit, crossing my arms. “But I’m also just… so relieved you’re okay.”
The space between us shrinks as his eyes search mine. “I’m fine, Freckles. I promise. Are you?”
I nod, though my chest feels tight. “Your texts are embarrassing. ‘All good’?” I playfully smack his chest. “That’s not even remotely helpful.”
“Sorry. I had to say something quickly before they took my phone, because I… kind of got arrested.”
“You what?”
“Well, I had to explain to Chief Donovan how I knew Vanessa was guilty, and… serial killer or not, breaking and entering is illegal.”
Holy crap. Holy fucking crap! “And he arrested you?” I gasp. “Oh my God, will I be arrested next?”
“Yeah, ’cause I ratted you out to the cops,” he says flatly. “Of course not, Scarlett. I told them I was alone, and Vanessa confirmed it. Guess it’s the one upside of her being psychotically obsessed with you.”
I exhale, but the relief is quick to vanish. “So… wait, what happens next? You won’t go to prison, right? Will they take your PI license? Oh my God, Rafael, will you—”
He cups my face with both hands. “Released pending further investigation. I won’t lose my license unless I’m charged and convicted. Definitely not going to prison for criminal trespass.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “It’ll be okay. I have a buddy who’s a lawyer, and he’ll eat them for breakfast.”
I lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering shut. “Are you sure? You’re making it sound too easy.”
“It is easy, because Willowbrook’s police force is a joke.” He smiles softly. “Relax, Freckles. We’re okay.”
I try, really. “Thank you for being okay.”
“I couldn’t leave you like that.” His forehead dips to rest against mine. “What kind of happily ever after would that be?”
We stay still, close and quiet, our breaths mingling in the stillness of the room, until his lips meet mine, gentle and easy. Once I reciprocate, the kiss becomes more intense, his grip on my waist tightening as he draws me closer.