Chương 11
“I said it wasn’t an affair.”
“You also said you kissed twice.”
He said nothing.
I opened the driver’s door.
Curtis caught the edge before I could close it.
“Do not meet her alone.”
The irony was so enormous that for a second I just stared at him.
“Move your hand.”
“She’s unstable.”
“Move your hand.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He released the door.
I got inside and locked it immediately.
Curtis stood on the sidewalk.
He bent slightly toward the window.
“Whatever she tells you, she wanted money.”
I started the engine.
He stepped back.
I did not answer Erica until I had driven six blocks and parked outside a pharmacy.
Are you safe to talk?
Her response came almost immediately.
Not by phone.
Can you meet somewhere public?
I stared at the screen.
Part of me wanted to delete the thread.
There had already been too many revelations for one morning.
My body felt tired in a deep, cellular way, as though even my bones wanted privacy.
Then I remembered Curtis telling me she was unstable.
That was exactly the kind of label he used when someone’s version of events threatened his own.
Where?
She suggested a coffee shop near the university.
I wrote back that I would be there in an hour.
Then I called the attorney Samuel had recommended.
Her name was Dana Price.
Her assistant said she had no openings that day.
I explained who had referred me.
There was a pause.
Then another.
“Can you come at three thirty?”
“Yes.”
I almost added that I could come at any time because my schedule had stopped belonging to anyone else.
Instead, I thanked her.
The coffee shop was crowded with students and people working on laptops.
I arrived early and chose a table where I could see both entrances.
Melissa’s warning had lodged itself somewhere under my ribs.
Do not meet Curtis alone.
I realized that warning applied more broadly now.
When Erica walked in, I recognized her immediately.
She was taller than I remembered and dressed much more casually than she had at the charity dinners.
Jeans.
White sneakers.
A tan jacket folded over one arm.
Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail.
She looked tired.
Not glamorous.
Not dangerous.
Just tired.
She saw me and stopped.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then she came over.
“Vanessa.”
“Erica.”
She sat across from me.
Her hands remained in her lap.
“I almost didn’t come.”
“Same.”
A barista called out an order for someone named Liam.
Neither of us looked away.
Erica swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Don’t start there.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
“I didn’t come for an apology.”
“Okay.”
“I came because you said I didn’t know everything.”
She looked toward the window.
Then back at me.
“Curtis told me your marriage was over last fall.”
The sentence hurt less than I expected.
Maybe because I had already spent the morning losing illusions.
“He said you were staying together because of Arthur’s illness.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because the timeline stopped making sense.”
I waited.
She took a breath.
“I met Curtis professionally.”
“I know.”
“I was hired to help with marketing for a mixed-use development.”
“When?”
“Last November.”
That was two months earlier than the date Curtis had given me.
I folded my hands in my lap.
“He flirted almost immediately.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
The honesty made me dislike her less, which annoyed me.
She looked embarrassed.
“I’m not going to pretend I was innocent.”
“Good.”
“He said you had separate bedrooms.”
“We did.”
Her face tightened.
“He said because the marriage was finished.”
“Because Arthur needed help at night.”
“I know.”
I looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because he complained about it.”
My stomach clenched.
“What did he say?”
Erica hesitated.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
She rubbed her thumb against the paper sleeve around her coffee cup.
“He said you were obsessed with Arthur.”
I waited.
“He said you liked being the martyr.”
The words were familiar.
Too familiar.
Curtis had said nearly the same thing when he threw me out.
“He said you used Arthur’s illness to avoid being a wife.”
I looked toward the counter.
A girl in a red sweatshirt was laughing at something on her phone.
A man near the door was arguing quietly about a parking ticket.
The world kept moving.
I took a breath.
“What else?”
Erica lowered her voice.
“He told me Arthur was leaving him everything.”
“When?”
“December.”
Arthur had still been attending physical therapy then.
Still making jokes about hospital coffee.
Still alive enough to complain when I overcooked eggs.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if that mattered.”
“And?”
“He said it mattered because once Arthur died, there would be no reason to keep pretending.”
My fingers went cold.
I looked down at the table.
There was a tiny scratch in the laminate shaped like a lightning bolt.
“Pretending.”
“That was the word he used.”
I nodded once.
“Keep going.”
Erica’s eyes filled, but she blinked the tears away.
“I thought he meant pretending your marriage was functional.”
“You wanted to believe him.”
“Yes.”
Her answer was quiet.
I respected that more than excuses.
“When did you sleep with him?”
She froze.
There it was.
The answer in her face.
“Curtis told me you kissed twice.”
Erica closed her eyes.
“Oh.”
“How long?”
She looked at me.
“February.”
The room seemed to recede.
I heard the hiss of steamed milk behind the counter.
Somebody dropped a spoon.
Arthur had been hospitalized for dehydration in February.
I had spent four nights sleeping in a vinyl chair beside him because Curtis said a major client dinner could not be moved.
“Where?”
Erica’s mouth tightened.
“A hotel.”
I nodded.
“During the week Arthur was in the hospital?”
Her face changed.
She had not known.
“I don’t know.”
“February seventeenth?”
She looked stricken.
“Yes.”
May you like
I leaned back.
For one moment, I wanted to stand up and pour her coffee into her lap.
