Everything She Built

2

Rachel's POV

I stared at the navy blue suit.

My hands were frozen. It was folded neatly at the bottom of the bag, tucked beneath a business folder. It looked exactly like the one in Lydia's photo.

It couldn't be.

Owen had many suits. Navy blue was a common color. This meant nothing.

Before I could think, I heard footsteps on the stairs. I shoved the suit back into the bag, closed it, and turned around just as Owen walked in.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

I smiled. "Everything's fine. I was just looking for dirty laundry."

He pulled me into his arms. "Leave it. I just got home."

His lips found my neck. His hands slid down my back. I let myself melt into him, forgetting about the suit and the doubt that had been following me for days.

"You smell good," he murmured against my skin.

"I smell like the dinner I just cooked."

He laughed. "I guess that makes you my dinner."

He kissed me properly then. The kind of kiss that used to make my knees weak when we were dating. It still did, if I was honest with myself.

"Come to bed. Please."

I should have said no. I should have asked about the suit.

Instead, I let him lead me to our bed. I let him undress me. I let him make love to me like he meant it, like I was the only woman in the world.

Because at that moment, I wanted to believe it. So I moaned his name like a prayer on my lips.

I was woken by the sound of a message tone. Owen was spooning me, his arms wrapped around me. His phone was on the nightstand, the screen lit up with a notification.

I saw the text. A message from someone named L. Just four words: "Did she find out?"

My heart stopped.

I wanted to read the entire message, see the full conversation, and find out who this L really was.

But Owen moved beside me.

"What is it?" he mumbled.

"You got a message," I said, keeping my voice controlled.

He groaned and reached for the phone. I watched his face as he read it. His expression didn't change. He sat up to reply and I couldn't see what he sent.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Work. One of the associates. She's worried about some client presentation."

"At midnight?"

"You know how these kids are. They think everything's an emergency."

For some reason, I couldn't let it go. "Just curious — what did she mean by 'did she find out'? Find out what?"

Owen paused. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's about my sister."

"Lingling?" That was what we called her. When they were younger, my sister-in-law was obsessed with Chinese culture and so badly wanted to be Chinese that she had everyone start calling her Lingling.

He nodded. "She's been dating someone our parents wouldn't approve of. So she's been using me as a cover, telling them she's at my place when she's actually with him. She's worried someone might have told our parents."

It sounded reasonable.

"Now go back to sleep. Sorry the text woke you."

He kissed my forehead and rolled over, falling asleep. I thought about the navy blue suit in his suitcase and the message. Maybe I was just being paranoid and it was nothing.

But then I thought, why did he lie that it was work, at first?

Two days later, Daisy "Lingling" Sterling showed up at our house unannounced.

She was twenty-six and had always been the baby of the family: spoiled and entitled.

"Jie!" she called me, using the term for my older sister-in-law. "I bought the most amazing shoes. You have to see them."

She burst into the living room, shopping bags everywhere. I watched her, puzzled.

"Lingling, how did you get in?" I asked.

Lingling pulled out a key. The key to my house. "Owen gave me a spare. You know, in case of emergencies. You don't mind, do you?"

I did mind. But before I could say anything, she was already wandering toward the kitchen, helping herself to the snacks I'd bought for Yaya, and the moment was gone.

Lingling stayed the whole day. That night, I watched Owen with his sister.

They were sitting on the couch, and she was leaning against him, scrolling through his phone, laughing at something. He didn't stop her, even though he hated it when people did that. He just let her.

"Lingling, don't you have your own phone?"

"Oh, my battery died." She didn't even look at me. "Owen's phone is better anyway. He has all the good apps."

Owen shrugged. "She's always been like this. You know how she is."

I did know. I'd never thought much of it before. But now I was wondering: was this normal? Or was I seeing something I should have noticed a long time ago?

"Look at this dress!" Lingling exclaimed, holding the phone closer to Owen.

Owen looked at it and nodded. "I think it'll look great on you."

"You have to order it for me for the party," Lingling said. Owen nodded, and I watched them laugh their way through ordering the dress.

"What party?" I asked after a moment.

"I was going to tell you, an old business partner of mine is hosting a party."

And he was taking Lingling without telling me?

Owen's phone began to ring, and he stood up, excusing himself.

"Lingling," I said carefully. "You know you can't keep asking your brother for money like this."

She laughed. "Why not? He's my brother. He takes care of me. It's his job."

"It's not his job."

"Jie. You wouldn't understand. Owen and I have always been close. Since we were kids. He'd do anything for me."

"Have you been dating anyone lately?"

She froze. “Where did you hear that?”

“Owen mentioned it.”

"My brother mentioned it? Oh, right. That. Yes. There's this guy, he's a musician. Mom and Dad would absolutely lose their minds if they found out. Brother just helps me out sometimes. He's always been good at keeping secrets."

I let it go, but I couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. He's always been good at keeping secrets?

What could he be hiding from me?

The next morning, I noticed Owen still hadn't unpacked his suitcase. He'd been busy lately, so I decided to help him out.

I was hanging one of his jackets when I felt something. I reached into the pocket.

I found a condom.

That wasn't the problem. The problem was, I'd been on birth control for years.

We didn't use condoms.