by Nesly Clerge
“Then I’ll have to hope they don’t find out, until the divorce is over and done with, if ever. You’re right about Tina, though. I’d hate giving her more, but will for Tim’s sake. Unless we get him to live with us. However, Brandi and I haven’t been married long enough for her to claim anything.”
“Keeping this secret could become problematic.”
“This isn’t the time to worry about that. We need to celebrate next time we see each other. Sorry, Chelsea. I have to get back to work. But I want you to keep one thing foremost in your mind and heart: I’m deeply, irreversibly in love with you. I’ll do anything for you, anything to protect and care for you. Gotta run.”
“I feel the same, love.” She ended the call and stared at her phone.
Luke was far too ecstatic at the moment, to see the potential financial fly in that sticky ointment. She’d have to explain things to him another time, when he wasn’t soaring. Let him revel in his success for now. There would be plenty of time later for reality to be dealt with.
One thing was certain. This news made her even more resolved to act on her plan. It was the only way to protect her own interests.
CHAPTER 76
At twelve thirty, Kimberlie called to say she was doing a study-sleepover at Susan’s house and would head there directly after school. Garrett called a few minutes after three that afternoon with the anticipated announcement that he was working late at the hospital.
No reason to wait for a better time to follow through on her plan. This was the time to act.
As soon as that second call ended, Chelsea ordered a rental car. She drove to the place, asked if she could leave her car with them and pick it up within a few to several hours. They assured her that as they were a 24/7 company, it was no problem. She ignored the puzzled and curious looks when she swapped the Bentley for an older model Toyota.
There was only one sure way to guarantee a divorce and good settlement: catch Garrett in the act.
She’d considered hiring a private detective, but decided it was too risky. What if the detective checked on her? The last thing she or Luke needed was to be caught doing the same thing she wanted to use against Garrett. She and Luke would have to be more careful from now on, until they were both divorced. No more motel, unless they found a particularly secluded one in a nearby town.
Chelsea stopped at a convenience store for a few snacks and water. No telling how long she’d have to wait for Garrett to leave work. Unless he’d already left. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of possibly missing this opportunity and having to wait for the next one. She was ready now.
She wended the Toyota through the hospital parking lot. Breathed with relief to see Garrett’s car still there. She found a place to park where she could watch for him. Waiting was harder than expected.
At seven forty-two, Garrett exited the front door and sauntered to his car, phone pressed against his ear. He laughed at something the person on the other end said. She started the car and put it into gear. Her foot rested on the brake as she waited for Garrett to drive out of the lot.
She followed him to the edge of town, continuing on for miles, wondering where he was going. Prayed he wasn’t going to some last-minute conference meeting instead of to a rendezvous. Followed him all the way to Brookline. Laughed out loud when Garrett turned into the parking lot of an upscale hotel.
Chelsea turned in seconds behind him and parked. As soon as he went inside, she got out of her car, stopping just outside the glass door to watch what he did. It was possible she could be wrong. He could be going to a meeting or conference.
His manner was buoyant, casual—he wasn’t afraid of being seen, of being caught. Garrett handed his credit card and a number of hundred-dollar bills to the man behind the desk, who handed over a key. It was the confirmation she needed. At least, part of it.
Garrett started toward the elevators. As soon as the doors closed with him inside, she entered the lobby as though she had every reason to be there. Watched the floor numbers, prayed the elevator didn’t make more than one stop. It didn’t, not until it reached the top floor. Relief flooded her. She pressed the button and waited for an elevator to take her up.
And Garrett down.
CHAPTER 77
The elevator door opened. Chelsea stepped into the carpeted hallway. There were only two doors on that floor. One was marked as the Executive Suite, the other was the Presidential Suite. Ordinarily, this would mean she had a fifty-fifty chance of getting one of the rooms right the first time. But this was Garrett.
Chelsea stood in front of the door to the Presidential Suite and took a few deep breaths. Garrett was about to get the shock of his life. She slapped a hand over her mouth when a giggle erupted at the thought. She was ready. And resolute.
This was going to be most satisfying, especially after all the hell he’d put her through. She was prepared for whatever she discovered on the other side of the door. Because this was her ticket to freedom and happiness.
Chelsea rapped on the door. Seconds later, Garrett, leaving the door closed, asked who it was. She lowered her voice and said, “The champagne you ordered, sir.” Her cell phone was in her hand, ready to capture the proof.
The security bolt was thrown, the handle turned. As the door opened a mere few inches, Garrett said, “The champagne’s already been de—”
Chelsea started recording the video and shoved her way past a startled, naked Garrett, who had a white smudge around his lips and an erection diminishing by the second. She filmed the woman perched on the edge of the sofa, capturing the woman’s shocked expression, evident despite the black leather mask covering the upper half of her face. The woman’s hand, wrapped around a whip, was still raised.
She noted the smeared whipped cream on the woman’s breasts and between her wide-spread legs elevated by knee-high patent leather boots with stiletto heels.
Boots she’d seen before.
CHAPTER 78
No one moved or said anything for several seconds. The woman screamed and said, “Oh God. Garrett, do something.”
Chelsea started toward the sofa. “You bitch! I’m going to rip every bleached hair out of your fucking head.” Chelsea launched forward. Garrett grabbed her arms and held them behind her.
Struggling to restrain Chelsea, Garrett said, “Penelope, get dressed and out of here. Now.”
Chelsea strained to break free, cursing at top volume at her husband and her once best friend.
Penelope ran into the bedroom and returned seconds later, maskless. Three stains began to form on the front of her dress. “Chels, I’m—”
“Don’t you dare call me that. Don’t you dare call me ever again.” Chelsea, breathing hard, stopped struggling against Garrett’s restraint. “It all makes sense now. And, how very clever you both are. You must have had quite a laugh at my expense, pretending you detested each other. Always referring to her as a slut. The correct label, but a different motivation behind it than I expected.” She stomped on Garrett’s foot until he released her. Facing him she said, “Don’t bother to come home. Not tonight. Not ever.”
“Now just a damn minute, Chelsea.”
“I mean it, Garrett.” She pointed at Penelope and said, “Stay where you are. Both of you stay right where you are. Enjoy your sleazy party. You’ll both be paying for it for a long time.” She stuck a finger in Garrett’s face. “Expect to hear from my lawyer.”
CHAPTER 79
Chelsea moved through the hotel lobby like an automaton, oblivious to the surroundings and her phone ringing, stopping, ringing again. She had to get away.
Panic struck as she searched the parking lot for her Bentley, finally recalling she’d arrived in a Toyota. It took several seconds to remember where she’d parked. More seconds to steady her hand so as to fit the key into the lock, and then into the ignition.
Her phone rang again. She turned it off and threw it to the floorboard. In the enclosed interior, she screamed, “Leave me alone.” Go, she told herself.
The drive from Brookline to Waltham took an hour longer than it should have. A result of Chelsea having to pull over several times, until gut-wrenching weeping could cease long enough for her to see the road again.
She parked the Toyota in the garage and walked trance-like into the house. Trance-like, made a call to a locksmith and told him it was an emergency; that she’d pay double, triple even, if he’d get there immediately and change every lock. She told him how many were needed, and how many keys.
Numb, she waited for then watched the locksmith in silence, speaking only when he asked her an infrequent question. The landline rang. And rang. She ignored it. Ignored the raised eyebrows of the locksmith. An hour later, the man hurried from the house with a wad of cash in his pocket as the phone rang again.
Chelsea stood at the back door, gazing at the tented pool. The phone rang four times. Went silent. Rang again, insistently. A light snow began to fall. She shivered, glanced to the right of the pool and nodded. Not bothering to put on a coat, she went to the built-in brick barbecue pit. Within minutes, a fire roared in its recess.
It took a number of trips upstairs and down, and more time than she thought it would take, to burn every article of his clothing, including his briefs. Garrett’s presence in her life—up in smoke.
Lyrics from the song by Blackberry Smoke came to mind:
Leave a trail of ashes and a trail of sin.
She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
CHAPTER 80
It was nearly midnight when Chelsea realized her cell phone was still in the rental car. Barefoot, and wearing only an old flannel gown, she retrieved her phone and returned to bed. The last thing she wanted to do was turn the damn thing back on, but there was Kimberlie to consider. If her daughter needed her, she had to be available.
She pressed the button. Missed calls, voice and text messages from Garrett, all of which she deleted. None from Penelope.
Nothing from Luke, either. She needed to tell him what had happened, needed to hear his voice soothing her. Even though he’d said he slept in the basement, she didn’t dare call him. After all, there was nothing he could do. One of them should be able to sleep.
An insidious thought surfaced: What if Luke had lied about his arrangement? What if he was next to his wife, and was there every night? Both of them sated after his doing to his wife what he did to her. Everyone important to her had lied to get what they wanted. Why should he be any different?
Don’t judge him by Garrett’s standards, she scolded herself. Luke isn’t Garrett. He had to be different. He had to be. Otherwise, she’d lose what little sanity she had left.
The landline jangled again several minutes after midnight. Then her cell phone—Garrett. She ignored it. Deleted the subsequent message without listening to it. This went on for twenty minutes. Then a text message came in.
For God’s sake, Chelsea, and for the sake of our daughter, please forgive me. I swear it will never happen again. I won’t even so much as look at another woman for the rest of my life. Let me make it up to you. I’ll spend every day, as long as I live, doing that. Whatever you want. Tell me it’s okay to come home.
I’m all out of forgiveness, Garrett. You and Penelope don’t deserve it. I have to figure out what to tell Kimmie so she doesn’t hate you. BTW, you need to go shopping. Tomorrow.
WTF?
When I got home, I felt chilled and thought a bonfire was just the thing, after I had all the locks changed. Some of your clothes took longer to burn than others. If you bother me again tonight or ever show up here without my permission, I’ll call the police and file a complaint.
Chelsea didn’t wait for a reply. She turned her phone off and lay with her eyes open in the dark. If Kimmie did need her, Susan’s mother or father would come to the house if she didn’t answer either phone.
There was one thing she shouldn’t do, but felt compelled to. She sat up, turned her phone on. And watched the video. She barely made it to the bathroom in time to lose the contents of her stomach. She stayed in there, with a cold wet rag draped on the back of her neck, until the dry heaves ceased.
Her plan had succeeded. She’d been prepared to catch Garrett in the act. But not for what she’d discovered.
What was meant to be simple had become complicated.
CHAPTER 81
Chelsea dragged herself from bed a few minutes to eleven the next morning. Waited until she drank half a cup of coffee to turn her phone on. There were several text messages from Luke asking if she was okay, and why wasn’t she answering him. That if he didn’t hear from her soon, he had no choice but to go to her house to make certain she was safe and well. Five more from Garrett, escalating from apologetic to irate and vile. One from Penelope professing her love and begging forgiveness for being weak. For making the worst mistake of her life.
A quick call was made to the rental car place, requesting they bring the Bentley to her house—Leave the keys on the seat, and take the Toyota—the keys were inside, on the floorboard. The credit card used the night before took care of the charges. She didn’t want to see or speak with anyone.
She ached to tell Penelope off, to verbally rip her to shreds, but there was a hitch: Penelope knew her secrets. Only one thing to do.
I need time, she wrote back.
Time to think. Was it possible to keep Penelope quiet until both she and Luke were divorced? And not have anything to do with her at the same time?
Chelsea wrote and revised a text message to Luke. It took ten minutes to finally arrive at the one she sent.
Sorry, love. Followed Garrett to a hotel last night so I could catch him cheating and force him to give me a divorce. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, or who. He was with Penelope. I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to erase that image from my mind. The saving grace is that I don’t have to see him. I forbade him from ever coming here again, unless I say he can.
God, Chelsea, are you okay?
I will be. Still feeling devastated. I’m going to find a lawyer this morning and get things going. Also have to talk with Kimberlie when she gets in from school. Have to figure out what to tell her. One of us crushed beyond measure is enough.
Not easy. I remember what that’s like. I’m here for you. If there’s anything I can do, tell me.
If there is, I will. It may be a few days before we can see each other. We’re on our way to being together, my love. And I can hardly stand waiting to be with you.
Your move, Luke.
CHAPTER 82
“I don’t believe this! What is wrong with everybody?” Kimberlie, sobbing, ran upstairs and slammed her bedroom door.
Chelsea would give her some time, but not too much. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to feel alone as she went through the pain of this transition.
She’d wait until the last minute to tell her mother, who’d probably tell her to take Garrett back. Again. Would she mention Penelope? At some point, she’d have to. But that could wait, hopefully, for a very long time.
As for Garrett’s family, she’d let him be responsible for telling them. Then she remembered Richard. Worried that the news might cause a set-back. He was doing better than expected, but there was no way this wouldn’t affect him. She’d have to talk to Garrett’s family eventually, especially Richard.
Luke had tried to tell her about the difficulties that might or would present themselves. She hadn’t wanted to listen. The only thought she’d wanted to entertain was about the inevitable bliss she and Luke would share. How could she be so naive? There was a long, challenging road ahead before they could legally be together. That left open the opportunity for a lot of pain to travel with them.
At six o’clock, Chelsea knocked on Kimberlie’s door. She turned the knob—locked. “How about some soup, Kimmie?”
“I’ll never be hungry again.”
“I understand how you feel. But you need to eat. C’mon, Kimmie. We need to help each other be strong. I’ll start heating the soup.”
Chelsea was almost to the bottom of the stairs when she heard Kimberlie’s door open.
She looked at her daughter and said, “Chicken noodle?”
Kimberlie shrugged and trod down the stairs as though each step took tremendous effort.
Chelsea waited for Kimberlie and wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder as they walked to the kitchen. “We’ll get through this. It won’t be easy at first. No major change ever is. It may take a while to get everything arranged so life goes more smoothly for everyone. But we’ll do our best, won’t we?”
“I guess. It’s not like I have a choice.”
Kimberlie eased onto one of the counter stools while Chelsea dumped the canned contents into a pot. Kimberlie’s phone rang. “It’s Dad. I don’t know what to say to him.”
“He’s your father and you love him. Just be nice.”
“Hi, Dad. Yeah, she told me … She said you guys are splitting up and that you won’t be living here anymore … No. I don’t want to do that … No, Dad … all right.” She held her phone down. “Dad wants me to ask you if he can come home.”
“Let me talk to him.” She took Kimberlie’s phone. “Garrett, this is a difficult time for all of us, but you will not put Kimmie in the middle again … Yes, I was serious about a lawyer. I met with one this afternoon … You’ll find out who in a few days. There’s nothing more to say at this time. I’m giving the phone back to Kimmie.”
Kimberlie took the phone, slid off the stool, and walked into the formal living room.
Chelsea listened to her daughter talk in soft tones between bouts of sobbing.
She swiped at her eyes and stirred the soup.
CHAPTER 83
The warm water should have felt good. Chelsea sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. It was better to keep moving, to do some activities that were normal, rather than curl into a ball and not move until she felt human again. That could take far too long. Her daughter, and circumstances, required her presence. She completed her laps.
