Chris sighed and waved a hand. “Don’t.” He looked up at David with exhausted eyes. “Joanna already told me everything.”
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…
David swallowed. “Then why do you need to hear it from me?”
Chris’s lips pulled tight. “Because I want to hear the truth.”
“Why? What difference will—”
Chris slammed his hand down on the desk. “Because if my best friend fucked my wife, I think I have a right to know.” He drew his hand back, shaking it as if the impact had hurt more than he’d expected. Quieter now, he growled, “Did you sleep with her or not?”
“For God’s sake, this—”
“Did you fuck my wife or not, David?”
“Yes!” David threw up his hands. “Yes, I slept with her. Are you happy now?”
“You son of a bitch. You’re lucky I don’t—” Chris jumped to his feet but faltered, and as he sank back into his chair, he paled a little.
Anger shifted to concern. David started toward his desk. “Are you all right?”
Chris lifted his gaze. “Get out.”
David halted. “Chris, I’m serious. Are you—”
“I’m serious too. Get the fuck out of here.”
David hesitated, but he knew Chris, and he knew there was no arguing, so he turned and stormed out of the office. As soon as he was out in the hall, he texted Hilary and asked her to check in on Chris.
And then he speed-dialed Joanna.
“Hey, David. What’s—”
“Why the hell did you tell him?”
“Huh? Tell him what?”
“About last night.”
“What in the world are you talking about? Why would I tell him?” She paused. “Wait, he knows?”
“Yeah, he knows.” David stopped in his tracks. “How in the hell did—”
“David, I swear. I didn’t tell him anything.” She paused. “Did…did you?”
David turned back and stared down the empty hall, his blood turning cold all over again.
She took in a sharp breath. “Oh no. Did you…”
He cringed.
“David…”
“He said you’d already told him. I… Fuck, I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Oh God.”
“How did he even catch on? Was he up when you got home?”
“Yeah,” she said. “We talked a bit when I got home last night, but he didn’t seem suspicious. I mean, he’s always suspicious if I go anywhere without him, especially at night, but I swear to God, I didn’t tell him.”
David pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh fuck.”
Joanna exhaled hard. “What do we do now?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
Chapter Eighteen
Joanna had long ago learned to dread the sound of Chris’s car coming up the driveway, but the Land Rover’s engine had never made her heart stop quite like this before. Sitting in her bedroom above the driveway, she shuddered. There was no escape—her car was parked between both of his, and she’d have to pass him on her way out.
And there was no point in escaping. She’d made this proverbial bed. She needed to lie in it. Putting it off wouldn’t help. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner…
Hell. She didn’t know what would happen once things were out on the table. But there was no point in putting it off. Especially since time wasn’t on their side.
She winced.
What have I done?
She shook that thought away and headed down to the kitchen. There, she waited for him, her stomach twisting and her heart pounding as the engine quieted, the car door slammed and the garage door began to rumble shut. Chris’s dress shoes clicked on the concrete. Stopped at the kitchen door. The knob twisted. The air pressure shifted.
And there he was.
He met her gaze, and she couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at her like that. She was used to seeing sarcasm in his eyes and the twist of his mouth. There’d been plenty of apathy, annoyance, impatience.
But cold fury? That was a new one.
He stood on the other side of the kitchen island and set his briefcase on the counter. Thank God for the island—it created the best buffer she could hope for in this situation. A slab of granite between them was better than being right in each other’s faces, she decided.
Chris drummed his fingers beside his briefcase. “So where were you last night?”
“Let’s not play games.” She rested her hands on the cold, beveled edge. “You know where I was.”
His expression was blank, though he was focused on her, and God knew what was going through his head right then. Finally, he gave a quiet, bitter laugh. “And here I thought the two of you couldn’t stand each other.”
She shrugged as indifferently as she could. “Turned out we had a few things in common.”
Chris scowled. “You couldn’t even wait a few months? Until I’m at least cold in the goddamned grave?”
“Our marriage already is.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What happened to ‘in sickness and in health’?”
“What happened to ‘to love and to cherish’?”
He snorted. “This from the woman who left me—”
“You think I did that for fun?” She resisted the urge to fold her arms defensively. “I was trying to maintain my damned sanity. Or is that less important than my waistline?”
Chris’s lips tightened. “Joanna.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t, Chris. You haven’t given one flying fuck about how I feel for…hell, years. I mean, what do you want from me? Nothing I’ve ever done or said is good enough, and I’ve damn near killed myself just trying to stay perfect for you. Or did you just want me to starve?”
“I never wanted you to starve yourself,” he threw back. “I begged you to eat when you got to the point you—”
“I never would have gotten to that point without you. I never cared about my weight. Never. I was fine. And then I married you, and suddenly I was never slim enough. And yeah, that got out of control, but don’t you dare blame me for it.”
“So that’s why it happened when we were talking about starting a family? That’s when it suddenly became—”
“Fuck you, Chris,” she hissed. “I wanted a family as much as you did.”
“Then why in the hell did you—”
“Because my weight was the one thing you wanted to control that you couldn’t.” Her voice shook with rage and the sudden threat of tears. “You kept my social life in a chokehold. You kept an eye on every penny I wanted to spend. You controlled everything, Chris. Everything. And the one thing you couldn’t control without my permission was my weight.”
“So you admit it was deliberate,” he said through his teeth.
“Yes. Yes, I was starving myself and making myself sick, because I wanted that control. I didn’t—” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her aching throat. “I didn’t know it would damage my fertility, and I didn’t know you’d get sick. Neither did you.” She narrowed her eyes, letting the fury take over as she forced back the tears. “Maybe we’d have had a shot at starting a family if you’d spent a little more time in our bed instead of fucking your various assistants.”
Chris’s teeth snapped shut. “What…what are you talking about?”
Joanna gave up and folded her arms. “Oh, you didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”
His eyes were huge.
“Yes, Chris,” she growled. “And I know if you had half the energy you did a while back, you’d be fucking Hilary now too.”
“I…” He shook his head. “This from the woman who cheated on me with my best friend?”
A laugh burst out of Joanna. “So it’s okay that you fucked all those women over the years because
I slept with David once?”
Chris flinched.
“I mean, what was I supposed to do?” She waved a hand. “Was I supposed to stay faithful to a man who’s treated me like shit? Cheated on me? Paraded me around like a goddamned trophy? Uh, no. Fuck you, Chris.”
“That’s bullshit,” he snapped. “You’re my wife, Joanna. I’ve never given you any reason to—”
“Save it. I’ve heard this enough times, and I’m done. You really want to know why I cheated on you with him?” Her eyes stung now, and she wasn’t so sure she could hold back the tears, but she didn’t care anymore. “I did it because I wanted to feel like I mattered to someone.”
“What? That’s nonsense. Of course you matter to me.”
“Do I? As what? A possession?” A tear fell onto her cheek, and she swiped it away. “He made me feel like it mattered if I was happy. He didn’t buy me anything. He didn’t give me anything. He just made me feel like there was no one else in the world except for me and him, and there was—”
“Enough!” Chris slammed his fist down on the counter. “If you wanted to be a goddamned whore, why didn’t you just leave?”
“I tried to!” she shouted back. “I fucking tried to, Chris! And every time I did, you found a way to talk me into coming back.”
“Forgive me for getting cancer when it wasn’t convenient for you.”
“Oh, don’t act like that’s the first thing you’ve ever used to manipulate me into coming back.”
He glared at her. “You know what? Fine. Go ahead and leave. I won’t stop you this time.” He swallowed hard and then spoke through clenched teeth: “Leave your key and get the fuck out.”
With that, he snatched his briefcase off the counter and strode out of the kitchen.
Joanna sagged against the island, gripping its edge for balance. There it was. The dismissal. The chain coming off.
She was free.
So why couldn’t she move?
Joanna had been at her sister’s house for three days when the mailman came to the door with a certified letter.
It was no surprise to see Chris’s name—in his assistant’s handwriting—on the return address, but it was still a kick in the chest. It meant this was all becoming too real too fast. She and Chris hadn’t spoken since he’d left her in the kitchen. He’d walked out of the room, and an hour later, Joanna had left her house key and wedding rings on the counter.
She’d taken only a handful of things—mostly clothes and a few small heirlooms—and driven to her sister’s house. All the way over there, she’d fought the urge to turn around and go to David’s instead, but she couldn’t face him. Not yet. Too much guilt. Too much shame.
Too much wondering what the hell happened next with Chris.
Well, apparently now she knew.
She signed the green postcard and handed it back to the mail carrier, who tore it off and gave her the envelope. After the man had left, she went into the living room and sank onto the couch, cradling the envelope in both hands as if it were some volatile thing. An explosive that might go off if shaken. A venomous creature that might wake up and attack. She stared at the damned thing for a good ten minutes before she finally opened the envelope. Though she was ninety-nine percent certain what it was, she was still startled when she saw the words on top of the first page:
Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
Chris had checked the box marked Irreconcilable Differences. No mention of adultery. Joanna ground her teeth—that was undoubtedly a card he was keeping up his sleeve. One he probably intended to play if she contested the divorce or tried to get her hands on his money.
She sat back on the sofa, just staring at the papers laid out on the coffee table.
This was what she’d wanted. The marriage had been over for so long, she could barely remember what it was like before. All she’d wanted was this piece of paper, and with it, the freedom to move on from this suffocating existence.
But she couldn’t sign it.
Their marriage wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was supposed to feel vindicated and liberated. Like she’d finally cut herself free. Like she had her life back.
Not…not like this.
Joanna buried her face in her hands.
She hadn’t cheated on him out of vengeance. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Chris. It was a given that if he found out, it would hurt him, and that was why she hadn’t told him. Why she hadn’t thrown it in his face for that momentary victory of giving him a taste of what it felt like to be cheated on.
No, it hadn’t been about him at all. She’d just desperately needed someone to touch her the way David had. As if she’d been worthy of his time and affection. If only for a little while, David had made her feel sexy and wanted.
And now this.
The front door opened, and Joanna sucked in a breath.
“Jo?” Her sister called from the kitchen just before her keys rattled on the counter. “You here?”
Just Kaylie. Not Chris. Of course.
“Yeah. I’m in the living room.”
Kaylie appeared in the doorway, and her forehead creased. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”
Joanna pointed at the coffee table. “Chris just had me served.”
Kaylie blinked. “He knows you’re here?”
“Of course he knows I’m here.” She scowled. “He probably had someone check on the place in Tillamook, and if I’m not there…”
“Hmm. True.” Her sister didn’t speak for a moment. “You don’t sound nearly as happy about this as you should.”
“I’m not.” Joanna eyed the papers. “I feel like I should be, but…I also don’t think it should have ended the way it did.”
“Honey, the ‘way it should be’ ship left years ago. Just sign them and be done with it.”
“I know. I should. But I…” Joanna shook her head. “Maybe I just need to sleep on it.”
Her sister sat beside her. “You might sleep better once they’re signed and it’s all done and over with.”
“Maybe.” Joanna rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t get it. I always thought I’d be relieved when we finally got to this point.”
“When you finally left?”
“More like when he finally kicked me out. Whenever I leave, I always know he’ll find some way to lure me back in. This time?” She lowered her hand and shook her head. “There’s no going back this time.”
“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.” Kaylie squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve needed to get out of that place for a long time. You shouldn’t go back.”
“I know. I know. But…” Joanna dropped her hand and met her sister’s eyes. “Why do I feel like it shouldn’t have ended like this?”
Kaylie’s eyebrows flicked up. “Honey, the only thing wrong with the way this ended is that it took this long. Bottom line, you’re free.”
“Still. The thing is, I…” Joanna sighed. “The thing is, I cheated on him. And he found out.”
Kaylie’s jaw dropped. “You…really?”
Joanna nodded.
“Whoa.”
“Yeah.” Joanna rubbed her hand over her face. “And I feel terrible about it.”
“But, hasn’t he been cheating on you since the dawn of time?”
“Not with his best friend.”
“His—wow, honey.”
“Exactly.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I did. But it turns out he’s a pretty damned good guy when he’s out from under Chris’s thumb.”
“He’s…” Kaylie straightened. “When you say you ‘cheated’, how serious are we talking here? Like, did you sleep with the guy, or was this a full-on affair?”
“I slept with him.” Joanna slumped back against the couch. “But we’ve gotten pretty close l
ately. And then it just happened. One minute we were commiserating about Chris’s bullshit. The next…”
“No details.” Kaylie waved her hand. “I get the gist.” Then she took Joanna’s hand in both of hers. “Sweetie, this divorce is what you wanted. You’ve done everything in your power to be the wife you were supposed to be, and he’s done everything in his power to be a miserable, ungrateful bastard. This is probably the best thing he’s given you in fifteen years. If I were you, I’d have signed it the second it landed in my outstretched hands.”
“That’s what I thought too.” Joanna looked at the papers. “I’ll sign them eventually. Just…not tonight.”
“Maybe we should get you away from them for a little while.”
Joanna was exhausted and didn’t feel like even getting up off this couch, but the idea of getting away from those damned documents was tempting. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking we should get you drunk.”
“I’ll get my shoes.”
Chapter Nineteen
A solid week after the truth came out, the inevitable happened—Chris and David had to be in the same room.
They’d successfully avoided each other up until now. Chris had stayed at the home office. David had gone into the downtown office every day. They’d each handled separate tasks, dealing with separate people, and there’d been no communication at all beyond a few unavoidable e-mails. Those had been kept civil and terse.
But they’d accepted the deal from the buyers in North Dakota. And today, they’d had to meet with the buyers. Shake hands. Sign papers. Get the ball rolling.
Be in the same fucking room.
They were both damned good at putting on an act. They smiled through the meeting, and as near as David could tell, nobody was any the wiser.
And for God’s sake, David couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t force a smile and pretend to still be best friends and trusted business partners with the man who’d knocked up David’s wife while treating his own like shit. This was bullshit. He couldn’t take another day of it.
As soon as the meeting was over, David left the conference room and went straight to his office. He fired up his computer, typed a few short, straight-to-the-point words and printed them on some company letterhead. Without even reading it twice, he signed the bottom, folded it neatly and slipped it into an envelope.
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