She scooted over another inch, wanting the extra distance in case Mike intended some grand romantic gesture like asking her to move in with him and his roommates. If she was going to break something, she wanted to be on the edge of the impact zone, not in it. “You wanted to talk about my living arrangements?”

Mike ran a thumb over his knuckles. “Not exactly,” he said. “More about Imani.”

Hearing Philip’s wife’s name on Mike’s lips made Tonya shift onto another cushion. She’d been wrong about him, she quickly concluded. Mike was a womanizer who’d gotten entangled with his boss’s hot wife. Tonya could imagine how it had happened. Imani had come to the restaurant, seeking her husband. Philip had been too busy to pay her any attention, so she’d sat at the bar chatting up the handsome man behind it, ordering drink after drink after…

“She messaged me on Instagram.”

Tonya felt as if she were taking her own pulse. That’s how conscious she was of the beating in her chest. “Why?”

“She says the police are looking at me in relation to what happened with the Walkers.”

Of all the responses Tonya had suspected, that had not been one of them. As far as Tonya knew, Mike had never met the Walkers. “Why?” she asked again.

“Don’t be mad,” Mike replied.

The phrase worked like an electrical pulse, lighting up Tonya’s nerves. As a parent, Tonya knew that such a request always preceded a terrible admission. I colored all over the walls. I lost what you said to make sure stayed in my pocket. I had an accident. I told them…

“Say it.” Tonya’s voice came out a whisper, smoke in the air. She’d entered Mike’s apartment full of fire and sexual energy. It was gone, turned to ash by his ominous statement.

“I messaged his wife.”

“Imani? I thought you said she—”

“No. Melissa.”

Tonya felt a hollowing in her stomach, as if someone were chiseling out her insides with an ice pick. “Why would you—”

“Because of what you said that night.” Mike finally made eye contact. He had a puppy-dog stare, providing the puppy was a Doberman. “You were so nervous that she’d find out what her husband did and blame you for it. After everything you went through with him, that wasn’t fair. I wanted—”

“You told her what happened to me?”

“I didn’t use your name.” Mike’s gaze retreated to his hands. “But I messaged her and said I wanted to talk, claimed we had common friends. To be honest, I didn’t think she’d respond. I was so angry, and I wanted to do something to hold him responsible. She must have been bored, I guess, because Melissa replied.”