“Liz . . .” My voice trailed off. I wanted to ask her why she’d told Tahiry—at least I assumed that she had because I couldn’t imagine Paula sharing that with her daughter. I decided against asking, though. It’s not like any of it mattered at this point anyway.
“Tahiry told me what happened at the party,” Liz said. “Did Dad really bust you out like that?”
I hesitated but then nodded.
“In front of all those people?” she asked, horrified.
“Honey, your dad is very upset with me—understandably so,” I managed to add.
“Oh, my God. I’m so glad I didn’t go. I would’ve died of embarrassment.”
I patted her hand. “If you were there, I’m sure your dad wouldn’t have done that. You know he loves you.”
She hesitated. “I’m sorry I told Tahiry. But she kept asking me what was wrong. I was gonna lie, but I couldn’t think of one.”
My heart broke at the position I’d put my daughter in. Her whole life, I’d preached against lying and here she was trying to come up with a lie to cover for me.
“Liz, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to this family,” I told her. “I hope you know that I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you or your father.”
She nodded, though she didn’t seem so sure. Finally, she said, “Mom, you really messed up.”
I slid next to her. “I know, honey. I wish I could do things differently. I swear I do. But I can’t take that night back. All I can do is hope that the people I hurt can one day forgive me.”
“Dad says he doesn’t want me to be poisoned by your lack of morals.”
I inhaled a sharp breath. “That’s going too far. I’m not a bad person. I did a bad thing. But I’m not a bad person.”
She studied me, trying to puzzle out what to think, before saying, “I know.” She stood. “I’m gonna go to my room.”
I wanted her to stay and talk some more so I could make sure she was okay, but I knew that I needed to give her space to deal with this on her own.
I went ahead and started cooking dinner. I was putting the finishing touches on my zuppa toscana soup when the doorbell rang. I didn’t know if Liz was going to come downstairs and eat, as she hadn’t been out her room since she’d gone up the stairs an hour and a half ago.
I set my bowl on the table, then made my way to the front door. I glanced through the peephole and didn’t know whether to smile or cry.
I swung the door open. “Greg.” I would’ve given anything for him to take me into his arms. As furious as I was about that stunt he pulled, I wanted everything to return to normal. The fact that he would so publicly humiliate me, and himself, told me just how deep this pain had run.
“Hi,” I said, opening the door.
Greg barged past me. “Where’s Liz?”
“Upstairs.”
He spun around to face me. His tone was formal, his anger still frosty. “Did she tell you that I think she should come stay with me?”
Now, Greg was about to make me mad. It was one thing to have hatred for me. It was another to try and turn my daughter against me, especially when I’d been the primary caregiver all of these years.
“Don’t do this, Greg. Our drama is between you and me. Don’t drag our daughter into this.”
He laughed. “Are you kidding me? You dragged our daughter in this when you decided to sleep with Steven.”
I sighed and walked back into the kitchen. “Greg, I’m not going to fight with you.”
“She’s coming to stay with me,” Greg said with finality as he followed me.
“You’re at a hotel.”
He drew himself up, like he was making an announcement. “Actually, only until the end of the week. My apartment will be ready then.”
I slumped against the nearby wall. “Apartment? You can’t be serious.”
“What did you expect, Felise?” Greg said. “Did you expect to screw your best friend’s husband, betray me and our marriage, try to cover it up, then think we would just go about life as usual?”
“I–I didn’t think.”
“You never do.”
A wave of tears welled up. I don’t know why. Why would I ever expect Greg to forgive me after what he’d done?
“But you said you forgave me,” I found myself saying anyway.
“I lied,” he said bitterly.
“So, this was all some elaborate revenge ploy?”
He shrugged. “Part of me wished that I could forget that you were a liar and a cheat. But I can’t. And I wanted you to hurt like I was hurt. Should I have handled it a different way? I probably should have. But oh, well.”