Page 141 of Faultlines

I hang my jacket on the hook by the door and let the breath I’d been holding escape slowly. “Why does everyone always assume something happened?”

“Because we know you.”

I already know there’s no point in trying to avoid this conversation. If I don’t tell them, Marisol eventually will. I slide onto a stool across from Sloane. “I saw Ethan today. He’s been doing repairs at Juniper House in secret. Well, it’s only been a secret to me.”

Sloane straightens in her seat, lowering her glass of wine without taking another sip.

Confusion replaces concern on both their faces.

“What repairs?” Lucy asks.

“Apparently, all of them. The greenhouse fence. The bookshelf in the community room. Lighting. Cabinets. Drywall. Benches. Ceiling tiles. Everything.”

Lucy lowers herself onto a stool. “How long?”

“Since before Thanksgiving.”

“Before… Thanksgiving?” she repeats.

I nod. “According to Marisol.”

Sloane sips her wine. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient?”

“Yes. I’ve invested a significant amount of energy into disliking him on your behalf, and now I find out he’s been secretly repairing a group home for vulnerable teenagers.”

Despite myself, I laugh.

“I’m serious,” Sloane continues. “If he were going to have an affair, the least he could have done afterward was commit to being awful.”

Lucy remains thoughtful, tracing the rim of her mug with a finger. “Did he tell you why he was doing it?”

“He said the building needed repairs, and it’s important to him because it’s important to me.”

Lucy leans back in her chair, the springs creaking. “Maybe that’s why it matters.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he wanted credit, he would have made sure you knew.”

Sloane swirls her wine thoughtfully, the ruby liquid catching the light. “Did he ask for anything?”

“He asked me to go to counseling with him.”

Lucy places her palms on the granite countertop. “What did you say?”

“I told him ‘no.’”

Sloane nods approvingly. “Excellent.”

I grimace, the corners of my mouth turning down. “Then I told him I would think about it.”

Her approval vanishes instantly. “Claire.”

“What?”

“We were making progress.”