You Can Trust Me

YOU CAN TRUST ME KIERSTEN MODGLIN YOU CAN TRUST ME is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, images, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. No part of this publication may be used, shared, or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews. If you would like permission to use material from the book for any use other than in a review, please visit: kierstenmodglinauthor.com/contact Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. Cover Design by Kiersten Modglin Copy Editing by Three Owls Editing Proofreading by My Brother’s Editor Formatting by Kiersten Modglin Copyright © 2023 by Kiersten Modglin. All rights reserved. First Print and Electronic Edition: 2023 kierstenmodglinauthor.com To my family—for the cruise in 2019 that I was sure would lead to disaster but actually only resulted in a sunburn and nightmares. To my readers, the KMod Squad—for requesting a cruise thriller so those nightmares didn’t go to waste. “For all evils there are two remedies - time and silence.” ALEXANDRE DUMAS, THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO CONTENTS Part I Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Part II Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Part III Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Part IV Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Would you recommend YOU CAN TRUST ME? Stay up to date on everything KMod! Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Kiersten Modglin PART 1 CHAPTER ONE BLAKE It’s always the husband. That’s what they say anyway, isn’t it? I’ve probably said it once or twice myself while watching the news or reading a book. It’s clichéd, but the reality is it’s almost always true. Almost always. But not now. Not this time. You’ve already cast your judgment. I won’t waste my time trying to change your mind, but, for the record, you couldn’t be more wrong about me. I didn’t do this. I love her. You can trust me. CHAPTER TWO MAE BEFORE This place should feel like paradise, but for me, it will always be a reminder of heartbreak. Even with years of better memories to replace that first visit—sun-soaked summers with my favorite people—I can’t let go of the past. Can’t forget what happened. What this beach bore witness to. I died here, in a way. There’s the me before and the me after, and the two will never be the same. Today, the sun warms my skin, and the salty breeze whips through my hair as sand collects in my sandals. It’s beautiful here. I can say that objectively. I get the appeal. Truly I do, but I can’t look at the sand or the ocean, hear the seagulls cawing overhead, or smell the fishy smell of the water without thinking of him. Blake’s fingers lace with mine as the restaurant comes into view. “Is she here yet?” I lift my phone with my opposite hand, staring at the screen. One of our wedding photos stares back at me, taking my breath away as much now as they did the day we received them. We look so happy… It’s been almost a year, and somehow I’m still not quite used to the weight of the ring on my finger. “I don’t think so. She hasn’t texted. I’ll let her know where they seat us when they do.” “Sounds good. Hopefully they have space on the patio. It’s so nice out.” He releases my hand to let me up the wooden set of stairs to the boardwalk first. As if to further prove his point, the wind picks up again, blowing the warm air around us. It’s the perfect temperature, before the heat of the summer completely arrives, but still warm enough to enjoy. Inside the small restaurant, a dark-haired host greets us. I glance at the nametag on their shirt, which reads Hayden (They/them). “Hey guys, how many?” “Four,” Blake says, holding up four fingers. “We’re waiting on two others.” “Cool. Inside or patio?” “Patio would be awesome.” Hayden grabs a stack of menus. “You got it. Follow me.” They lead the way around through the small space and back out onto the patio, where two tables are occupied by an older couple and a woman around our age with a little boy. He’s scribbling away at a coloring page as we follow Hayden toward a table near the end of the space. The string lights above our heads sway in the wind as we take our seats. “Destiny will be your waitress today. Can I get you started with some drinks, or would you like her to come over once the rest of your party has arrived?” Blake checks with me, though I know he’s starving. “We can go ahead and order drinks if you want. They should be here any minute.” He gestures for me to go first, so I order a ginger ale, hoping it will ease the nausea I still feel over our flight. Then he orders a beer. I do my best to withhold a bitter glance his way. I’d been okay with the drinks on the plane so early because I know he’s a nervous flier, but we’re on land now. Hayden takes our menus, promising to be right back, and I watch as a bird hops around on a table next to us, picking french fries off a plate yet to be cleaned. “So, what do we know about this one?” Blake asks, keeping his voice low. He’s