Replay by Marc Levy

said some very flattering things about his investigative skills, assured him it was one of the best pieces she’d read in a long time, and congratulated herself on entrusting him with it. But she had also sent it back full of comments and underlined passages. She wanted to know how authentic his sources were, and whether he’d checked every last detail. He’d made some pretty serious accusations and the legal department would undoubtedly want to make sure they were all well-founded.
    As if he would have taken all those risks just to make up stories. He’d blown half his salary following up on the leads the barmaid at his seedy hotel had given him, and tracked down some reliable but rather cagey sources. He’d nearly got beaten up in the outer suburbs of Buenos Aires, but luckily he’d managed to give the slip to the thugs who’d been on his tail for two days. He’d almost ended up in prison, not to mention put his personal life on hold for the sake of this investigation. He wasn’t a rookie! He grumbled all day as he sorted through his notes.
    At least Olivia had ended her message with more praise, and told him she wanted to have lunch with him the next day. That was a first. Andrew would normally have been convinced the invitation meant he could expect another promotion, or maybe even an award, but he was in such a funk he was sure it wouldn’t be anything good.
     
    That evening he heard hammering on his door. Andrew thought it was probably Valerie’s father come to smash his face in. He opened up, almost relieved: maybe a good thrashing would make him feel less guilty.
    Simon pushed him roughly aside and strode into the apartment.
    “Tell me you didn’t do it!” he shouted, heading for the window.
    “Did she call you?”
    “No, I called. I wanted to stop by and give you guys your wedding present, but I was scared I’d walk in on you having sex or something. Man, was I wrong.”
    “What did she tell you?”
    “What do you think? She’s heartbroken. She doesn’t get it. All she knows is that you’ve messed her around, and that you don’t love her. Why did you marry her? Couldn’t you have called off the wedding? You’ve acted like a total bastard.”
    “Look, you and everyone else said I shouldn’t say or do anything, just go through with it. Everyone told me I was just imagining how I felt!”
    “Who’s ‘everyone’? Who else did you confide in? Fallen for a new best friend, have you? Are you going to leave me too?”
    “Don’t be an asshole, Simon. I talked to my tailor.”
    “Oh, terrific. Couldn’t you just try being married for a few months, at least give the two of you a chance? So what happened last night that was so serious you had to go and screw it all up?”
    “If you really want to know, I couldn’t make love to her. And Valerie’s too smart to believe it was only because I’d had too much to drink.”
    “Do you feel like it’s impossible for you to go see her and tell her you’re sorry, that you made a mistake, and that this is all just some temporary madness?”
    “I don’t know what I feel anymore. I just know I’ve never been this unhappy.”
    Simon got up and went into the kitchen. He came back with a couple of beers and handed one to Andrew.
    “I’m sorry for you, old buddy. Do you want to spend the week at my place?”
    “Why?”
    “Because I’m much better company than you are.”
    Simon put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
    “Remember that story about the guy who was being tried for the murder of his parents and pleaded with the judge to let him off because otherwise he’d be sentencing an orphan?”
    Andrew looked at Simon and the two of them laughed the way only good friends can when a situation is dire.
     
    * * *
     
    On Monday Andrew had lunch with his editor, just the two of them. She had chosen a restaurant some distance from the office.
    Olivia had never shown this much interest in his work before. She had never interrogated him about his