Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN MARTHA ERASEDRebecca didn’t speak for several seconds.
She didn’t answer.
On the twelfth call, her phone went straight to voicemail.
Nick watched me pace our living room.
“Claire.”
“No.”
“You need to sit down.”
“I need my best friend to tell me why her name is attached to a fake picture showing me cheating on you.”
Rebecca sat on the couch.
“The designer could be lying.”
“Why use Melissa’s name?”
“Maybe Martha used it.”
I wanted that to be true.
Then I remembered something.
Melissa had introduced me to Martha.
Not originally.
Nick introduced us, obviously.
But Melissa was the one who kept encouraging a relationship between us.
Invite her dress shopping.
Let her help with flowers.
Give her something important to do.
Every time Martha hurt me, Melissa had a reason I should forgive her.
“She’s insecure.”
“She’s scared of losing Nick.”
“You’re the bigger person.”
I stopped pacing.
“Oh my God.”
Nick frowned.
“What?”
“Melissa knew about the scissors.”
Silence.
“Why would you think that?”
“At the bridal suite.”
I closed my eyes.
An image returned.
Twenty minutes before the reception, Melissa insisted I change the placement of my veil.
She moved my braid over my left shoulder.
Then later, just before the first dance, she moved it down my back.
Exactly where Martha could reach it.
“That could be coincidence,” Rebecca said gently.
“Yes.”
Another memory.
Melissa had left the reception immediately after the hair-cutting incident.
I hadn’t noticed because everything had exploded.
I grabbed my phone.
I checked photos guests had sent.
At 8:07, Melissa stood beside me.
At 8:12, Martha cut my hair.
At 8:16…
Melissa was gone.
Her purse.
Her coat.
Everything.
Nick called Ethan.
“Was Melissa at the venue when police arrived?”
Pause.
“No.”
My stomach dropped.
Nick ended the call.
“She left.”
I sank into a chair.
Seventeen years.
Melissa and I met freshman year of high school.
She slept at my house when her parents divorced.
I paid half her rent when she lost her first job.
She stood beside me when Grandma died.
She introduced herself as “Aunt Mel” when my sister had children.
Why?
The doorbell rang.
Everyone froze.
Nick checked the doorbell camera.
“It’s her.”
I stood.
“Open it.”
“Claire—”
“Open the door.”
Melissa stood outside wearing leggings and a sweatshirt.
No makeup.
Her eyes red.
The second she saw me, she started crying.
“Claire.”
“Come inside.”
She did.
Rebecca remained seated.
Nick stood beside me.
Melissa saw them.
“I wanted to talk alone.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No more private versions.”
She swallowed.
I folded my arms.
“Did you hire someone to make that photograph?”
She looked down.
That was my answer.
“Why?”
“I didn’t know what Martha was going to do with it.”
I laughed.
The sound was ugly.
“You paid someone to create a picture of me kissing another man, but you had no idea it might be used to make me look like I was kissing another man?”
“I know how it sounds.”
“Then explain it better.”
Melissa cried harder.
“Martha said it was a prank.”
Rebecca muttered, “Of course.”
Melissa continued.
“She wanted to make a fake slideshow for your bachelorette party.”
“My bachelorette party was three weeks ago.”
“I know.”
“And the photo surfaced yesterday.”
“She kept it.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was scared.”
“Of Martha?”
Melissa shook her head.
“Of losing you.”
That made no sense.
“You lost me by doing this.”
“I know.”
Nick stepped forward.
“What did my mother offer you?”
Melissa looked at him.
“Nothing.”
“Then why help her?”
Silence.
I knew before she answered.
Not the details.
But I knew there was something underneath everything.
Melissa wiped her face.
“Because I hated watching you get everything.”
My chest went cold.
“What?”
“You always got everything.”
I stared.
She continued through tears.
“Your parents stayed married. You built your business. You met Nick. You bought a house. You got engaged.”
“Melissa…”
“And every time my life fell apart, you looked at me with that face.”
“What face?”
“Like you felt sorry for me.”
“I loved you.”
“I know!”
She shouted it.
Then covered her mouth.
Rebecca looked away.
Melissa’s voice dropped.
“That made it worse.”
Nothing prepares you for learning someone interpreted your love as humiliation.
“I was there for you.”
“I know.”
“I gave you money when you were going to be evicted.”
“I know.”
“You lived in my guest room for six months.”
“I know.”
“So this is why?”
“No.”
She shook her head violently.
“It started small.”
“What started?”
“Martha.”
She sat down.
“She called me about a year ago.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to know whether you and Nick were having problems.”
Nick’s expression darkened.
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing.”
“At first,” I said.
Melissa nodded.
“At first.”
Over the next hour, everything came out.
Martha had spent a year recruiting my best friend.
Lunches.
Gifts.
Compliments.
She told Melissa that I talked down to her.
That I secretly thought she was irresponsible.
That Nick had once called her “Claire’s charity case.”
Nick immediately denied it.
Melissa believed him now.
Too late.
Then Martha began asking for information.
Our arguments.
Our finances.
My schedule.
Whether Nick and I planned children.
Where we kept spare keys.
Melissa told her more than she should have.
Then Martha asked for favors.
Send screenshots.
Move a dinner reservation.
“Accidentally” tell me Martha hadn’t been invited to an event when she had.
Manufacture conflict.
Each favor made the next easier.
“Did you give her our house key?” I asked.
Melissa went pale.
Nick swore.
“You did.”
“She said she wanted to leave a wedding gift.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“She drugged me, Melissa.”
“I didn’t know!”
“She was inside our bedroom!”
Melissa sobbed.
“I swear I didn’t know.”
Nick stepped between us.
Not to protect her.
To protect me from doing something I would regret.
My entire body shook.
Rebecca spoke quietly.
“Did Martha ever mention Claire’s medication?”
Melissa’s face changed.
I saw it.
“What?”
“Answer her.”
Melissa looked at me.
“She asked whether you took anything for anxiety.”
My stomach dropped.
“I don’t.”
“I told her that.”
“And?”
“I mentioned the dental prescription.”
Nick closed his eyes.
I whispered, “How did you know where it was?”
“You told me after surgery.”
Of course.
Casual conversation.
Trusted information.
Weaponized.
Melissa buried her face in her hands.
“I’m sorry.”
I felt nothing.
Maybe anger had limits.
Maybe betrayal eventually numbed you.
“Did you know she planned to cut my hair?”
Melissa looked up.
“No.”
“Did you know she wanted to ruin the wedding?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Nick stared at her.
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said she was going to make sure Claire showed everyone who she really was.”
“And you stayed?”
“I thought she meant she’d provoke an argument.”
“You helped her provoke me?”
Melissa cried.
“I was angry.”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“For having a life you wanted?”
She flinched.
The truth embarrassed her.
Good.
I walked toward the door.
Melissa stood.
“Claire.”
“Leave.”
“Please.”
“Leave.”
“I can fix this.”
“No.”
“I’ll tell everyone the photo is fake.”
“You will.”
Hope appeared in her eyes.
“Really?”
“Yes. Because your attorney will probably tell you cooperation is a good idea.”
Her face fell.
“You’re going to police?”
“You gave someone access to my home.”
“I didn’t know—”
“You helped manufacture false evidence of an affair.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You spent a year secretly reporting details of my marriage to someone who hated me.”
Her shoulders collapsed.
I opened the door.
“I loved you like family.”
“I love you too.”
“No.”
My voice stayed surprisingly calm.
“You loved having someone whose life you could compare yourself against.”
She started crying again.
I didn’t.
“Go.”
She stepped outside.
Then turned.
“There’s one more thing.”
I nearly closed the door.
“What?”
“Martha kept a notebook.”
Nick moved beside me.
“What notebook?”
“She wrote down everything.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Melissa shook her head.
“But she called it her insurance policy.”
“Insurance against what?”
Melissa looked toward Nick.
“Against your father.”
Robert?
“What does Dad have to do with this?”
“She said if he ever tried to leave her, she would destroy all three of you.”
Rebecca frowned.
“All three?”
“Nick. Ethan.”
Melissa looked directly at her.
“And you.”
May you like
Then she said something that changed the entire direction of our investigation.
“Martha knew Rebecca existed long before she married Robert.”
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