What's Done In the Dark(67)

“Over the years, you worked hard to assure me that you and Steven were strictly friends, that the vibes I had gotten in the beginning were all my imagination,” he continued. “You make me feel like our whole marriage was built on a lie.”

Now he was being extreme. No, I wasn’t completely honest about my relationship with Steven. That was simply because I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it and it would end up affecting our relationship with Paula. At the time, though, I did believe it. I actually believed I didn’t have feelings for Steven.

“How am I supposed to get over this?” he asked.

I couldn’t help it. I said, “The same way I did.”

He glared at me. “I knew that would come up. The two don’t even compare. What I did with Miranda was wrong, but you didn’t know her. I didn’t bring her around, pretending that she was my friend. I didn’t treat her like family.”

I wasn’t trying to get into a whose-affair-was-worse conversation. I just wanted my husband to forgive me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I meant, I want you to find it in your heart to work through this.”

“So you’re saying you want me to just pretend none of this ever happened,” he continued. “You want me to act like I don’t know about your deception.”

“No,” I said softly. “I want you to forgive me, and I will spend every waking moment trying to make this up to you. But Liz and I need—“

“Don’t!” he said, interrupting me. “Don’t you dare bring our daughter into this! Because if you cared about our daughter at all, you would’ve picked up some random dude off the street before you picked up this man that we all loved and cared about. You betrayed us all!” He inhaled again. “I don’t know how I’m going to get over this.” He stood for a moment, then turned and looked at me. “But I’m willing to try.”

I wanted to jump from my seat and throw my arms around his neck, but I stood slowly. “Thank you, that’s all I can ask.”

“Have you told Paula?” he asked.

“No.” I prayed he didn’t make telling her a condition of us staying together.

“Don’t,” he said. “She’s in enough pain, and she is finally managing to move forward. Your betrayal would only set her back.”

I wanted to dance a jig. I didn’t know if that was really why he didn’t want Paula to know, or if he didn’t want people talking about him for staying with me. I didn’t really care. I was just glad that he was staying.

“I promise, I’m going to spend my lifetime making this up to you.” I stepped toward him to lean in for a kiss. He spun around and walked away.

“I’m staying, but I’ll be sleeping in the guest room for now.”

I watched him round the corner, and then any joy I felt vanished when I heard him say, “Oh, no, Liz!”

I jumped from my seat and hurried over to where he stood, towering over my baby. She was sitting on the floor, crouched against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. Judging from the way she was shaking and the tears streaming down her face, she’d heard everything.

“Liz, baby, I’m so sorry,” I said, falling to the floor next to her.

I tried to take her in my arms, but she yanked herself away. “You had sex with Uncle Steven?”

I looked up at Greg, and any rage he’d managed to conquer had returned in full force. He charged out the door and left me to deal with our daughter alone.





48


Paula


“REMEMBER, I WANT THE PLAYLIST to be clean and a lot of old-school nineties music,” I told the deejay. I’d spent the last hour tracking down DJ Xtreme, who I was told was one of the best deejays in Houston. I’d finally caught up with him and, after turning on the charm, convinced him to take this last-minute gig.

“Got it,” he replied. “We are all set.”

“Wonderful, so if you can be there about nine, that will be great,” I told him.

“Who should I send this invoice to?” he asked.

“To Party Wright Planning at gmail dot com,” I replied proudly.

“Cool, it’s on the way.”

I hung up the phone, feeling invigorated. In a matter of days, I’d confirmed a menu with the hotel, booked the deejay, secured decorations—shoot, planned a whole party. And I still had six days to spare.

“You sure are working hard,” my mom said, walking into the den, where I’d set up shop. Eventually, I would take over Steven’s office, but I wasn’t ready to do that yet. Even though I’d packed up most of his stuff in the bedroom, clearing out his office seemed so final.