I slumped down in my seat even though Aiden had turned left, the opposite direction of where we were. He kept his Prius in a parking garage about two blocks away.
“Should I follow him?” Fisher said.
I shook my head. “It’s going to take him a few minutes to get down to the garage, and then it’s at least ten minutes for the valet to pull the car around. We should probably wait until he goes inside so he doesn’t see us.”
“Okay.”
Tailing someone wasn’t as easy as it looked on TV, especially in New York City. Since only a few cars at a time make any given traffic light, anxiety built inside me each time we got separated. But somehow we managed not to lose him. We trailed a few cars behind on the FDR Drive and then followed him onto I-87.
“It looks like he’s heading upstate,” Fisher said. “But I called the place that held the conference he told you he was going to. It was definitely only last weekend.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to think. Maybe he’s meeting a woman up where the conference is anyway? So a new hotel charge makes sense?”
“Maybe. You’ve called him out on enough stuff that he knows you’re suspicious.”
We drove for a while, long enough that it seemed that was exactly what Aiden was doing, and we were going to be on the road for a while. But as we approached the exit near where Fisher and I grew up, Aiden put on his blinker and moved into the right lane.
“He knows the area, so he probably needs a bathroom break or gas and figured he’d stop here.”
Fisher dropped back a bit, letting a few extra cars get between us so we weren’t right behind him when we stopped at the exit ramp light.
“You’re oddly good at this tailing thing, Fisher.”
He smiled. “It’s not my first rodeo, love. Gay men can’t keep it in their pants for too long. Unfortunately, I’ve done this before.”
“Without me?”
He shrugged. “I figured you’d lecture me for following someone.”
He was probably right. A year ago I would’ve told him if he felt the need to follow someone, the person didn’t have his trust, and the relationship was doomed. Yet here I was… It was a stark reminder not to judge others unless I’d walked in their shoes.
“Where the hell is he going?” Fisher asked.
Aiden had passed all the little stores and the gas station right off the parkway. He was actually heading toward the neighborhood Fisher and I had grown up in—where my parents and Fisher’s dad still lived.
When Aiden made a right into the development where my parents lived, we had to drop back a lot since there were no cars between us. I again slumped down in my seat.
“Is he going to my parents’ house? What the heck would he be going there for?”
Fisher wiggled his brows. “Maybe he’s one of your mom’s downstairs guests.”
“Eww…don’t be gross.”
We’d been joking, but sure enough, Aiden made a left and drove down my parents’ block.
“Don’t turn,” I said. “If he’s going to my parents’ house, we should be able to see from here. Can you just pull up to the corner enough for us to peek?”
Fisher parked right at the stop sign, and we leaned forward to peer down the block. The Prius slowed and pulled into my parents’ driveway.
“What the hell is he doing? Why wouldn’t he tell me he was coming here? I just spoke to my mom the other day and she didn’t mention he was stopping by.”
Fisher shrugged. “Maybe they’re planning a surprise party for you or something?”
“My birthday isn’t for nine months.”
Once Aiden got out of the car and disappeared into the house, Fisher and I decided to pull down the block. We parked a few houses away and slid down in our seats.
For the next hour, I kept going over all the things that had made me suspicious. I finally sighed. “Maybe Aiden’s right and the diary I’m reading has made me paranoid, making me see things that aren’t there.”
“You had suspicions before you started reading this one,” Fisher reminded me.
“Yeah…but…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve definitely become obsessive about the idea that Aiden might be cheating, and I think a lot of it might be because of the stuff I’m reading. I mean, it’s my third time reading this damn diary, and I sit on the stairs at the library wondering if the people around me might be Alexandria or her husband. I just don’t understand how she can cheat on him—and then not tell him the baby she gave birth to might not even be his.”
“And the guy she’s sleeping with, he’s her husband’s buddy, right?”
I nodded. “It’s terrible. It’s like the ultimate betrayal—your wife and your best friend.”