The Infidelity Pact

by Carrie Karasyov

  “You could have called,” snapped Victoria.

  “Right, right. I’m the one who did something wrong. You disappear all the time to God knows where, and I’m guilty. Listen, I own you now. I am your bread and butter. So don’t mess with me. I don’t want to hear complaints or whining or anything but a thank-you. I want my feet massaged when I get home, and I want my balls licked.”

  “You don’t own me. I made you. You would be nothing without me. I’m the one who smoothed it over with your boss’s wife when you were a dick to her. I’m the one who got our kids into the right school so you could suck up to those industry people there. I just got you your brand-new client.”

  “Who?” said Justin, approaching Victoria with anger. She stood there with her hands on her hips, steaming. “Who the hell are you talking about, Victoria?”

  “Natalie Maddox,” said Victoria.

  Justin turned away and laughed. “Yeah, that’s a joke. She came to me begging for proper representation. She knew where to get the best.”

  “She came to you because I made Wayne Mercer give her to you.”

  Justin narrowed his eyes. “And why would he do that?”

  “Because I was tired of screwing him. And I was tired of his sadistic games. So I sent him away and made him give us a departing present. A new client for you, a new Jaguar for me. We’re even.”

  She couldn’t believe that she had told him this way, but it all made sense, actually. There was no other moment she could have brought it up, no more peaceful dinners where they confessed everything. Their lives were full of the most vitriolic, rage-fueled beats that it had to happen this way.

  Justin looked at her and knew at once that she wasn’t lying. His face contorted slightly, but before he got angry, he started laughing. And he laughed harder and harder. He turned around and faced the mirror again as he buttoned his suit jacket.

  “Wayne got the short end of the deal. You’re a lousy lay,” he said merrily.

  “You didn’t think that before.”

  “Your own sister is better than you,” he said, staring at her in the mirror. “Yes, your fat, stupid sister. I screwed her one night when we were all in Nantucket for your cousin’s wedding. I was bored and she was there.”

  Victoria was enraged. “You got the short end of the deal there.”

  “In your dreams,” said Justin. He had a propensity to sound like a middle-schooler when he fought. “I get pussy every day. My assistant, my hairdresser, all those stupid bimbos who want to be stars. I screw them everywhere. All the time. And I don’t care.”

  Victoria knew it was true, had always known it was true, but she felt stung. “Well, let’s get a divorce then,” she said.

  “Great,” said Justin. “It’s about time.”

  He was so cool and casual about the way he said it that Victoria freaked out. She ran over to him and started pounding him violently, slapping him on the head before he knew what was coming, and shoving him. Justin tried to grab her arms, but she flailed them around. Her wet hair smacked him on the face and he slapped her back. He tried to twist her arm but she dug her nails into his chest. She could feel each and every one of her nails snap off as she did that.

  “You asshole!” she screamed.

  “Bitch!” he shouted back.

  She kept at him, punching and kicking until he overtook her and pushed her down on the bed. The next thing she knew they were passionately kissing, then he unzipped his pants and was in her. They had never had sex like this before. It was wild and crazy. It hurt, but the pain was so much deeper than any physical pain she had ever experienced. It was the pain of knowing that she had never meant anything to this man. She had taken him from a woman—his wife—only because it was a challenge, and he had always resented it and treated her as a conquest. Everything that was special or unique about her he didn’t care about. He didn’t want a wife with brains; he’d rather have a wife with big tits. So what that she had an MBA—he’d rather her father be head of Warner Brothers.

  After they came, Victoria rolled over on her stomach and began to cry. She cried harder and harder, and soon she was wailing. She thought she was crying like a child, or an animal in the jungle. She moaned and sobbed as if she had been raised by wolves. She felt sorry for herself. Sorry that her dad had betrayed her and sorry that she was married to a man who didn’t love her. She had never been loved by a man. When she finally calmed down, she noticed that Justin had dressed again and was leaving. She looked up at him through her tears.

  “So, we’re done,” she said.

  “Victoria, I don’t want to be the bad guy in your life anymore. You have to grow up. I’m not your father. I’m your husband. I can’t right every wrong for you.”

  Victoria sat up. She felt dizzy from crying. “But you never fight for me. You never, ever fought for me. I needed you to choose me, to fight for me, and you never did.”

  “You sound like a child! I chose you over my wife. I chose you over other women. What else do you want?” he said with impatience.

  Victoria thought. She needed him to prove his love to her. “I need proof. Go beat up Wayne Mercer! Go get the tapes from Anson Larrabee! Go tell all those bimbos that try to sleep with you that you won’t because you’re a married man.”

  “What does Anson Larrabee have to do with this?” asked Justin.

  Victoria leaned back down on the bed. He didn’t get it. It was all about the who-what-where-when-why with him. He lacked emotion. “Nothing. He just recorded tapes of Wayne and me on the phone. He eavesdropped through the baby monitor. Apparently the whole town can hear everything that goes down through the monitors.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Justin, aghast.

  “I don’t know. Apparently, every time we talk on the cordless upstairs, Anson’s baby monitor picks up on it. He hears everything. He has it all on tape.”

  “That sneaky asshole!” said Justin, his brow furrowed. He became really agitated. “I can’t believe that guy…”

  “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter—he’s done. We’re done. We’ll go to Eliza’s party tonight and tell everyone.”

  Justin stopped brooding and stared at her. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is,” said Victoria, closing her eyes and pulling her sheets up over her. As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered what she really wanted.

  •• 39 ••

  Leelee was in a panic. She had no idea how she got the girls to school (did she get the girls to school? She didn’t remember at all), but she headed straight for Eliza’s as soon as they were gone. Eliza was unloading her car and appeared stunned to see Leelee.

  “What happened?” asked Eliza.

  “He bailed,” she said. “He loves Tierney. Won’t ever leave her. Wants to run for office…” Her voice trailed off and tears sprang to her eyes. She knew her face was a mess—her pale, freckled skin became the most unattractive pink color when she was upset, and lord knows what her makeup was doing, but she didn’t care.

  “Oh, Leelee,” said Eliza, coming over and embracing her friend. “I’m so sorry.”

  Leelee started sobbing. “My life is over.”

  “Maybe this is for the best? Maybe you were never meant to be together. Maybe Brad is the love of your life,” said Eliza, patting her back.

  “No, that’s the worst. Brad is gone. Gone. I’ve tried his cell phone, his office…he’s not answering. He found the note. He left me,” she said, her body shaking with tears.

  Eliza led her into the house and poured her a cup of tea. She listened as Leelee wept and raged about her lover and her husband, stopping only to call Helen and Victoria and tell them to come over. Helen said she was on her way, but Victoria didn’t return her call.

  The ladies all sat in the living room, sprawled on the various sofas and chairs, in a daze.

  “So, was it worth it after all?” asked Helen finally. “I don’t think so.”

  “Guys, this pact was doomed from the start. And I have a
confession to make. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, but I may as well. I didn’t sleep with Tyler. I was going to, but I couldn’t…” Eliza’s voice trailed off.

  “I can’t do it,” Eliza said when he pulled her onto his lap.

  Tyler looked at her and then swallowed. “Are you sure?”

  “I can’t do it. I thought I could, but I can’t,” she said, squirming away.

  She knew she would cry because it would never be, and it could never be. She had once been the sort of person to sleep with her teacher and do something rash and unexpected, but times were different now. She was married. She had kids.

  “Can I call you?” he asked.

  “Hello, earth to Eliza?” asked Helen with a smile.

  Eliza was immediately jolted back into the present. She had been remembering her would-be moment. “Yeah. Sorry, guys. It didn’t happen.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Leelee.

  “I never told you anything other than I went to meet him. You all assumed,” said Eliza, defensive.

  Victoria suddenly laughed, high-pitched fake laughter. “I should have known. You would never.”

  “Why not?” asked Eliza.

  Suddenly, Helen, Leelee, and Victoria all collapsed into giggles. Then they started laughing harder and harder as Eliza watched them with confusion.

  “Why not?” Eliza repeated. “How can you be so sure?”

  “You’re not the type,” said Helen.

  “What do you mean?” asked Eliza. How did her friends know that about her? She didn’t even know that about herself. Should she feel offended that her friends regarded her as so straight? She supposed not, because it was the truth. She had never really realized that about herself. She had learned a lot this past year.

  “Why’d you lie?” asked Victoria, ignoring her question.

  “I didn’t lie, exactly, but I didn’t tell the truth,” said Eliza.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Helen.

  “I also have a confession. I told Brad that Victoria was having an affair,” said Leelee casually. “But it doesn’t matter. Brad is gonzo, so you’ll never see him again.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Justin’s gonzo too,” said Victoria. And then she began to laugh hysterically, and Leelee followed suit.

  “Any other confessions?” asked Eliza.

  “No,” said Helen.

  Victoria’s eyes darted to the side for a split second, and Eliza caught her. “Victoria? Do you have something to say?”

  “Okay, yes, I have a confession,” said Victoria. She glanced at all of her friends. They were so different and yet now they were all united. Helen in her diaphanous top and hands jammed with mood rings, appearing ditzy and so L.A. Leelee, preppy as can be in the mommy pants that cut above the ass and a ribbed green cashmere sweater. Eliza in her low-cut jeans and button-down oxford. These were her friends. They would understand.

  “I was sleeping with Wayne months before the pact. I just brought you all into it so you could help me get out of it. I wanted you to reserve judgment.”

  There was a pause as if the air had been sucked out of the room as her friends processed the information. Finally Helen broke the silence.

  “You bitch!” said Helen. She was appalled and yet not. It didn’t ultimately matter to her that Victoria had misled them. It was just a matter of time before she stepped out on Wesley.

  Leelee threw back her head and laughed harder. “Figures. You’re the most cunning of us all!”

  Leelee was mostly happy that her often-negative opinion of Victoria had been confirmed. She’d always love Victoria but she’d always hate her. And it was so Victoria to try to manipulate the gang. But she should be thankful to her. She’d had Jack for a moment. And it had been amazing.

  Eliza was surprised. It was very conniving of Victoria to trick them. Why couldn’t she just tell them in advance and ask them for help? Why did she have to fool them? But she had learned a lot about people over the past eight months. Everyone was complicated, everyone was unpredictable. She herself had almost cheated, but when put to the test chose not to. And she was glad she had confronted her naked soul and figured out what road she would take. It made her love Declan more. It made her realize that any little doubt she had about him or them was just a little blip. He was the man for her. She couldn’t break that tie.

  They were slaphappy and emotionally exhausted, so that even though they were now furious at each other for various offenses, they started laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

  “Yikes, I’m having a party in a few hours and I have to get ready,” said Eliza finally.

  “What are we going to do about Anson?” asked Helen. “What if he is still planning something? Isn’t it risky to bring him to the party?”

  “Yeah, like what if he makes an announcement?” asked Leelee.

  “Let’s proceed as planned. Maybe Imelda doesn’t know anything. Maybe she talked to him before we did,” said Eliza.

  “I agree. Wait until he comes and then we can talk to him again and sort it out,” said Victoria, rising.

  “I guess I don’t care,” said Leelee. “Brad is gone…” She started to cry again. Was she sad about Brad? Or just embarrassed that he might leave her and she’d look like a fool? Or was it that Jack had betrayed her? All of the above. She felt sorry for herself, so she cried. But what made it harder was knowing that she would have to change. If she wanted to remain with Brad, which she did, she had to forgive him and move on. It was the only way.

  “It will be okay,” said Eliza, putting her hands on Leelee’s shoulders. “Trust me. Brad will come back, and Anson will stop. Or be stopped.”

  The ladies all left and agreed to see one another in a few hours.

  •• 40 ••

  Hours before, when Anson was either dead or about to be, Eliza was still getting ready for her party. She returned home, after her makeup and blow-dry and found Declan already there, putting on his blazer and tie.

  “You’re home early,” said Eliza.

  “Yes, I had something I had to do, so I came home after,” he said with a smile.

  And then he did something he didn’t usually do. He went over to her and kissed her, and took her into his arms and gave her a big hug. It wasn’t that they never kissed or hugged anymore; it just wasn’t usually this impromptu or spontaneous. Eliza hugged him back. Hard.

  “I have something to tell you, Declan,” she said, pulling away.

  He looked at her carefully, but his expression remained neutral.

  She began to pace the room nervously. And then she launched. She told him about the pact, about all the various infidelities committed and what she had led her friends to believe.

  “But the truth is, I never had an affair with Tyler Trask,” she said. “You have to believe me. I’m sorry that I let people think I did. I don’t know why…” She felt herself tearing up, but she didn’t want to ruin her makeup job, so she fought it.

  “I know you didn’t, Eliza,” said Declan with a smile.

  “How?”

  “You’re not the type to have an affair. You’re a good girl,” he said.

  “Do you really think so?” she asked, hopeful.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “But how do you know? I mean, I thought for a second…” She didn’t want to actually say that she’d briefly thought she would cheat. She couldn’t say that to her husband. “I thought for a second that I wasn’t a good girl.”

  Declan walked over to her and put his arms firmly on her shoulders. “You are a good girl. You have to get over that. You’re not like your friends. You wouldn’t jeopardize everything. I understand that you maybe want some excitement, that you get dramatic and want passion and fireworks, but come on…we’re a team. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” she said.

  “So let’s just forget all this, okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. Then she was seized by a small panic. “The only thi
ng is that Anson knows. He tape-recorded us.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about him.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I won’t worry about Anson anymore.”

  Then Declan kissed her on each eyelid.

  Helen knew that she had to tell Wesley. She couldn’t take it anymore. How was she going to explain to him why they had to pick up Anson for Eliza’s party? He knew she hated him. How could she continue this charade? Even if Anson never told, she couldn’t live under the threat of that possibility. No. She had to tell Wesley.

  Even Victoria agreed with her. “Beg for his mercy,” she advised. “He’s a good man. He’ll keep you.” So that was the plan. Beg for his mercy.

  Helen walked into his screening room and found him watching Vertigo on his black-and-white projector. The fading daylight meekly streamed into the room through the slats in the venetian blinds, and Hitchcock’s characters danced on the screen.

  “I cheated on you,” said Helen, leaning against the threshold of the door.

  Wesley turned and looked at her. “What?”

  “I cheated on you,” she said calmly. “I slept with a few people, I thought I could save myself, but I was wrong, and it’s over and I want to be with you.”

  The silence seemed deafening. Helen watched as the veins under Wesley’s temples flared ever so slightly. More blood being pumped into his brain to allow him to process this deceit.

  “How do you know you want to be with me?” he asked, speaking at last.

  “I…just know. Who else would I be with?”

  “That’s not a good answer.”

  “I don’t know. I’m thinking that maybe all this searching…I don’t know, all this looking around for fulfillment—maybe I’m not going to find it with someone else. We’re happy, right? I think we just need to talk more.” Was that it? she wondered. It had to be. She had to stop running away from facing everything. She had to form a bond. She had to work on it, and so did he.

  Wesley took off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. “Are you sorry?” he asked, not looking at her.