Chapter 3
The sun came up at 6 a.m.
I was still sitting on the bedroom floor when I heard Michael’s car pull into the driveway.
I stood up, my legs stiff and numb, and walked into the kitchen.
He walked in five minutes later, his eyes red, his shirt wrinkled.
He smelled like Diane’s expensive perfume and regret.
“Claire,” he said, like he was relieved to see me. “Thank God you’re still here. I was so worried—”
“Where were you?” I said.
He froze halfway to the coffee pot.
“At my parents’ house,” he said. “I stayed late, trying to talk some sense into my mom. She had no right to say those things—”
“Bullshit,” I said.
I slid the scrap of paper with the apartment address across the kitchen island.
He looked down at it, and all the color drained from his face.
“Where were you last Thursday, Michael?” I said. “And the Thursday before that? And every Thursday for the last year?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Answer me.”
“I was at that apartment,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. “But it’s not—”
“Not what?” I said. “Not where you fuck my sister? Because she called you baby last night, Michael. She said she booked the usual room. She said you like wine I hate.”
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen.
“It started last year,” he said, the words spilling out fast, like if he said them quick enough they wouldn’t hurt. “When you were in the hospital for your appendectomy. Lila came over to bring me dinner, and we were both stressed, and we drank too much, and it just… happened. Once. And then it kept happening, and I tried to stop, I swear I did, but Mom kept pushing me—”
“Your mother pushed you to cheat on me?” I said, laughing a sharp, bitter laugh that tasted like blood. “Is that what you’re gonna go with? You’re a grown man, Michael. You make your own choices.”
“I know,” he said, stopping in front of me. He reached for my hands, and I pulled away like he’d burned me. “I know it’s my fault. All of it. But it’s over, Claire. I ended it last week. I was gonna tell you, I just didn’t know how. I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to lose Emma.”
The front door creaked open.
Emma stood in the doorway, her favorite stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
“Daddy?” she said. “You’re home.”
Michael’s face crumbled.
He knelt down, opening his arms for her.
“Hey, princess,” he said, his voice thick. “Come here.”
Emma ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
I stood there, watching them, and I thought my chest was gonna split open.
This was the part that hurt the most.
Not the cheating. Not the lying.
The fact that my daughter loved this man more than anything in the world.
And no matter what he’d done, I couldn’t take that away from her.
Not yet, anyway.
“I have to take Emma to school,” I said, turning away. “Then I’m going to that apartment.”
Michael stood up fast.
“Claire, don’t. There’s nothing there—”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I need to see it for myself.”
I dropped Emma off at school an hour later.
Her teacher waved at me, and I forced a smile so big my cheeks hurt.
I got in my car and drove downtown.
The apartment building was new, fancy, the kind with a doorman and a rooftop pool.
I parked across the street and waited.
An hour passed.
Two.
I was about to leave when the front doors opened.
Lila walked out.
She was wearing the gray cashmere sweater I’d bought Michael for our tenth anniversary.
The one he’d told me he’d lost at the dry cleaners.
My breath caught in my throat.
She laughed at something on her phone, then climbed into a silver SUV I’d never seen before.
I pulled out behind her.
She drove to a boutique on the Magnificent Mile, the fancy kind where a single blouse costs more than my monthly grocery budget.
I parked and followed her inside.
She was standing by the jewelry counter, holding up a diamond tennis bracelet, when she saw me.
Her smile dropped so fast it was almost funny.
“Claire,” she said, her voice shaking. “What are you doing here?”
I walked up to her, slow.
I was taller than Lila by three inches, and for the first time in my life, I used it.
I loomed over her, and I watched her shrink back.
“Nice sweater,” I said.
She looked down, like she’d forgotten she was wearing it, and scrambled to take it off.
“Claire, I can explain—”
“Explain what?” I said. “That you’ve been fucking my husband for a year? That you’ve been wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, letting his mother help you lie to me? That you called him baby last night, in front of his entire family, in front of my daughter?”
A few shoppers turned to stare.
Lila’s face turned bright red.
“Can we talk about this outside?” she whispered.
“No,” I said. “I want you to say it here. I want you to admit what you did. To my face.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Claire. It was a mistake. I was lonely, and Michael was there, and Diane said—”
“Diane said what?” I said.
Lila wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“Diane said you didn’t love Michael anymore,” she said. “She said you were only with him for his money, that you didn’t appreciate him. She said he needed someone who actually cared about him. And I believed her. I was stupid, and I believed her.”
I stared at her.
My own sister.
The girl I’d shared a bedroom with for sixteen years.
The girl who’d been my maid of honor at my wedding.
The girl who’d held my hand while I gave birth to Emma.
And she’d thrown all of it away.
For a man who’d never even been hers.
“Did you know she was gonna say all that at dinner last night?” I said.
Lila nodded, slow.
“She called me yesterday,” she said. “She said she was gonna force Michael to tell you the truth. She said it was time for you to go, so Michael and I could be a real family.”
A real family.
I thought of Emma, asleep in the backseat last night, crying for her daddy.
I thought of all the Sunday dinners, all the lies, all the times I’d felt like I wasn’t good enough for Michael’s family.
Turns out I was right.
I just didn’t know why.
“Stay away from me,” I said. “And stay away from my daughter. If you ever come near either of us again, I will call the police. Do you understand me?”
Lila sobbed harder, reaching for me.
“Claire, please—”
I turned and walked out before I could do something I’d regret.
I got in my car and drove around for three hours.
I didn’t go home.
I didn’t call anyone.
I just drove, until my gas light came on, until the sky started to turn pink and I remembered I had to pick Emma up from school.
She ran out of the building when she saw me, her backpack bouncing.
“Mommy!” she yelled. “Aunt Lila texted me today! She said she’s gonna take me to the zoo this weekend! Can we go? Please?”
I forced another smile.
“Not this weekend, baby,” I said. “Aunt Lila’s gonna be busy for a while.”
Emma’s face fell.
“But she promised,” she said.
I kissed the top of her head.
“I know,” I said. “But sometimes people break promises. It’s not your fault, okay?”
She nodded, but I could tell she didn’t understand.
And I couldn’t tell her.
May you like
Not yet.
Not until I figured out how to tell her that the two people she loved most in the world, besides me, had betrayed every single one of us.
