Maybe Juliette was just an average suburban mom with some mental health problems and boundary issues. Maybe she was selfish, but not psychotic. Evelyn was still missing some piece of this puzzle, but she realized what it was now. The mystery husband. Noah.
She’d have to rectify that as soon as possible.
CHAPTER 27
AFTER
Evelyn decided to play it casual, as if this were the first time she’d thought of him since Monterey. No big deal. Just dropping a line. Hey, you missed my birthday! ☺
She would have been a writhing mess if she’d had to wait long for a reply, but he responded right away. Happy birthday. I wanted to say hi, but I didn’t know if I should.
Why? Can’t we call a truce?
There’s no need for a truce. I surrender. I don’t want to hurt you more, Evelyn. I know I was an asshole.
So can I talk you into a cup of coffee? she wrote, her throat clicking dryly as she tried to swallow her nervousness.
When?
Now. She waited a few breaths before she sent another. You can consider it a belated birthday gift to me.
Of course. Not much of a gift for you, but I’d love to catch up.
Meet you at the gallery?
She raced upstairs to shower and get ready in record time, throwing on one of the flowy summer dresses she’d bought for California. When he saw it, maybe he’d remember. Maybe he’d feel something.
She wore flats to make herself seem harmless instead of trying to cultivate the intrigue she’d preferred before. After grabbing a sweater and her bag, she drove straight to his gallery, taking the quickest route, driving as fast as she dared, hoping all the local police officers had finished with the morning commute shift and were now taking a break.
The last few times she’d gone to Noah’s gallery, she’d entered through the back, so she parked on a side street and walked through the alley, then knocked hard on the delivery door.
The latch clicked, the door slowly opened, and he was there. Noah. It felt as though all the organs in her body lurched toward him. Her skin went tight.
“Hi,” she whispered as he opened the door to let her in. She slid past him.
“Hi,” he replied. The door shut, cutting off most of the light in the back room. He stared down at her from only inches away. Neither of them moved.
“Did you miss me?” she asked.
His only reply was a groan, then his arms were around her and he kissed her.
She didn’t know how they got from the door to the couch. It was a blur of hands and mouths and grunted needs. All she could think was yes.
They could have this again. She could be satisfied with this. She would belong to him again without having to be brave, and everything would be fine. She wouldn’t ask for more. Only this.
He yanked off her dress and underwear in rough pulls that left her shaking with lust. And then she was on her back, the nubby fabric of the couch a comforting abrasion on her skin as she opened her legs for him. He pushed inside, filling a space that had been woundingly empty since that last time, and suddenly her world was right. She was whole.
Strange that something so animal could feel divine. His thrusts felt like worship.
She clutched his back, dug her nails in, desperate to keep him close or at least mark him. No matter what he’d meant to do in the name of fidelity or morality, he was hers again. Their connection was a vital need, too strong to deny. She couldn’t live without him, so how could he possibly live without her?
“I couldn’t stop thinking about this,” he growled.
“I know,” she whispered back, pulling him down for a kiss. But the kiss didn’t last long. They were both breathing too hard, gasping for air. His back went slick under her hands, and she opened her mouth on his skin to taste the sweat. “Noah,” she whimpered over and over. “Noah.”
Afterward, they lay tangled up together for long minutes before he finally pulled away. She wanted to tug him back. “You didn’t bring any coffee,” he said with a smile.
“I didn’t actually want coffee.”
He laughed and left to use the bathroom. She wanted to lie there and wait for him, but after their farewell in Monterey, she felt too vulnerable to lounge around naked and dirty. She dressed, then went to use the bathroom herself, blushing a little at the feel of his gaze on her as they passed.
When she emerged, he was waiting with a steaming cup. “Thanks,” she said a little shyly as she took the coffee.
“I guess we shouldn’t have done that.” He gestured toward the couch with his own mug, as if she might not know what he meant.
“Oh, I don’t know. It felt pretty all right.”
“That’s one description.”
They sat on stools at the table, and she realized every place in this room was a memory of their relationship. It must have been difficult for him to try to forget her here. At least in her home, Evelyn didn’t have to picture Noah there and there and there, all the delicious, forbidden moments.
“Did you have a good birthday?” he asked.
“No. I missed you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. That made up for it.”
He stroked a lock of her hair off her cheek. “I’m glad.”
“Me too.” She smiled at him, but he dropped his gaze to his coffee.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
No point in bringing that up now. “I just wanted to see you.”
“Evelyn.”
“Noah,” she teased, dropping her voice to match his.
Sighing, he tipped his wrist to look at his watch. “It’s ten. You’d better go. I need to open up.”
“Have you picked a new piece for the front recently?”
“No, nothing new this month.”
“Then let’s look for something. I have time. We could have a little fun. I mean, a little more fun.” She waggled her eyebrows, but her smile froze when he looked at her, his face twisted with discomfort. “What?”
“Evelyn, we can’t hang out together.”
“Why?”
“You know why. It’s wrong.”
“It’s wrong?”
“Come on,” he sighed. “You know this is wrong.”
She barked a laugh. “Oh, really? It’s wrong? Was it wrong to tear off my clothes and do me on the couch?”
He winced. “Yes. Obviously.”
“But you did it.”
“That doesn’t mean we need to make it worse.”
“Wow. You know, the sex strikes me as a little more wrong than looking at art together, if it’s your wife you’re worried about. But you somehow got through that before your spasm of conscience. The wrongness didn’t hit you until just now. After the sex. Amazing.”
Noah scrubbed both hands over his head. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s—”
“You’re unbelievable. Aren’t you embarrassed to be so damn typical?”
He growled, his hands fisting in his hair. “We’re both married, Evelyn! What do you want from me?”
“How about a little damn intellectual honesty?”
“Okay, fine. I don’t want to give you up. The sex is great. I have trouble resisting. The truth is I don’t even want to resist. But I can’t live like this. I can’t!”
“Why?” she demanded.
“I just can’t.”
“You said we could do this forever! You’re the one who changed everything after California!”
“I know, and I’m sorry. But I love my wife, and I can’t hurt her. She’s an amazing person. A wonderful wife and mother. She’s just . . . amazing.”
Evelyn felt the truth boil up in her. She couldn’t stop it, and that was comforting because she didn’t want to stop it. He needed to know and maybe, just maybe, she wanted to hurt him after the slap in the face he’d just given her.
“Your wife cheated on you.” The words emerged from her mouth and left behind a little hollow filled with peace inside her. Yes. This felt
right.
Noah tossed his hands in the air, then let them fall with a slap on his thighs. “Oh, for godssake, Evelyn. This is ridiculous.”
“Her name is Juliette.”
That froze his eye-rolling show of disbelief. He watched her warily for a moment. “I told you that.”
“I can’t remember if you did, but I first heard it from my husband. They had an affair. Him and your Juliette.”
“Evelyn.” He stood very straight, his body edging itself back, away from her. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is over now. We both wanted it, and we both knew it had to end sometime. Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“What, like tell her about us? I’m not going to do that. I’m not some psycho, Noah.”
“Okay. Yeah.” He crossed his arms tight and tried to make his mouth form a pleasant smile.
He was scared of her already. Watching her as if she might be dangerous. She slumped a little with that defeat. “Noah, please. I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you! I just want you to know that you don’t have to be careful with her. She isn’t who you think. Not at all.”
“What do you—?” His eyes went suddenly wide, and he took a step back. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. You’re trying to tell me that you came in here and I just happened to be married to a woman who—”
“No. I lied to you, and I’m sorry about that. You have no idea how sorry.”
He shook his head.
“It was wrong. I know that. If I’d even suspected that you and I would . . . But of course I didn’t. When I came into the gallery, I just wanted to see who Juliette’s husband was. That’s all.”
“Holy shit,” Noah whispered. He looked from her to the back door several times. “Who are you?”
She held up her hands in surrender, trying to calm him. “Please, Noah. Just listen. I found out Juliette was sleeping with my husband, and I admit I got a little crazy. The circumstances were . . . Well, I’ll tell you more about that later. But when I came in here, you were . . . God, I swear it wasn’t about Juliette anymore. It was about us. The way you spoke about art. The way you spoke about me. We just . . . clicked.”
She grimaced at the fear in his eyes. “I’m not telling you this as a threat; I just couldn’t stand to see your loyalty to her anymore. She doesn’t deserve it. What we’re doing . . . It’s okay. It’s honestly okay. We don’t have to give it up.”
“I don’t . . .” He swallowed so hard that the gulp was comically loud in the metal-raftered room. “I don’t know why you think that, but it’s not true. Juliette wouldn’t cheat. She’s been struggling with sex for years. She thinks it’s because of her past. Her childhood. And I totally understand that. But you see, she couldn’t be cheating.”
“Noah. My husband is her psychiatrist.”
His forehead tightened in a shocked frown. “What?”
“If they were working through her sexual issues, they were doing it with actual sex.”
“You’re insane,” he whispered.
“I’m not,” she pleaded. “I know this sounds crazy, but please listen. Please. I saw them together. My husband confessed. It’s the truth.” She’d tell Noah the circumstances later. Much, much later, judging by his current expression of horror.
“Your husband confessed,” he repeated, “and then you stalked my wife and started an affair with me?”
“No! Noah, please. I just wanted to see who you were. But then I liked you. And you liked me. We really saw each other, remember? And all of this just happened.”
He shook his head. His tanned face had turned a sickly gray. She wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t dare. She could hear how it must sound to him. He’d need time to adjust. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
“This is shocking,” she said, trying to keep her voice soothing. “And I know it must hurt, but your marriage isn’t what you think it is. Neither was mine. Whatever rules or obligations might have kept us apart, Juliette and my husband forfeited those.”
“Jesus,” he repeated, scrubbing a hand through his hair again, setting the waves into wild angles.
“You can leave her, if you want.”
His wild gaze swung back to Evelyn, and he watched her as if she might come at him with teeth bared at any moment.
“Or we can just keep doing this,” she offered, “while you think about it. You’ll need time to think about it. I see that.”
“Think about what?” he rasped.
“How you want to live. What you want to do. When I found out, my first instinct was to try to hold on to my husband, but I deserve more than that. And you do too.”
“I’m not leaving my wife.” His voice was a dry husk of its former self. She wanted to touch him, hold him, comfort him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You need to leave.”
“I know you’re reeling—”
“Get out,” he ordered.
Evelyn flinched at the hardness of his words. “Noah, you can have the life you want now. Dreams, adventure, sex. Remember when you said that? You can have it all. Your kids and your gallery and everything you want. Just—”
“This gallery belongs to my wife.”
Now it was Evelyn’s turn to play the sick, shocked victim. “What?” she gasped.
“It’s Juliette’s. Everything is.”
“No. She’s a teacher.”
Noah laughed, and the awful sound cut through her. “Yes, she’s a teacher. Who comes from money. Old money.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Her parents like me,” he went on, his voice distracted now. “They love that I’m cultured but still outdoorsy enough to be a real man. But there are limits to their affection for me. They wouldn’t let their daughter throw money at a man. There’s a trust. It’s all hers.”
“Noah—”
“It’s all right,” he murmured, pacing across the concrete floor. “We both cheated. So we’ll wipe the slate clean. We can get past that. We have a good life.”
Evelyn watched as he reassured himself, nodding as if he’d solved a terrible problem. The terrible problem of Evelyn.
Her head buzzed. Her eyelids fluttered. When she turned her head, the room dragged sickly by. He was choosing his wife. He wanted her more. Juliette had won again.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to open the gallery. Everything needs to look normal. Please leave, and don’t ever come back.”
“Please—” she tried, but he shook his head.
“You’re sick. You need help.”
“But Noah—” She raised a hand toward him when he breezed past, but she wasn’t quick enough. He disappeared into the hallway, then reappeared on the monitor above, far away now. Gone.
Evelyn lurched forward. She made it to the wall and set her forehead to the cool steel of the doorjamb, resting it there until the buzzing in her skull stopped. Once she felt strong enough, she found the keys she’d dropped when she’d come in, but instead of slipping into the alley, she walked down the hall and into the gallery.
Noah sat at the desk.
“I love you,” she told him.
He didn’t look up no matter how long she stared. Eventually, Evelyn’s feet somehow carried her out the front door and down the sidewalk toward her car. She had no idea how she got the rest of the way home.
CHAPTER 28
BEFORE
Evelyn shuffled through the living room, still dragging from the sleeping pills she’d taken the night before. Irritated by the continued ringing of the doorbell, she glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel, ready to snap at her visitor that some people were still sleeping. Except no one was still sleeping. It was three thirty. Oops. Maybe she’d better cut back to one pill a night.
She smoothed down her hair, rubbed her eyes, and opened the door.
Her sister gasped. “Oh my God! Evelyn, you look terrible.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said, forcing herself not to pull a
way when her sister grabbed her in a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you, and thank God I did. How much weight have you lost?”
“I don’t know.”
“You look like you need to go to the hospital.”
“I don’t need to go to the hospital. My husband’s a doctor, you know.”
“Well, where is he?” Sharon pushed past her into the house. “Why are you the one answering the door when you’re half dead?”
Evelyn shrugged. “Is it Saturday? He’s probably golfing.”
“And Cameron?”
That was more of a mystery. Frowning, she tried to remember. “Robotics?” she guessed. “No. Water polo.”
“Well, come on. I’ll make you some tea.”
“I just woke up. I want coffee.”
Sharon stopped and spun to aim a harder look at Evelyn. “You just woke up?”
“I was napping,” she lied.
“And when was the last time you washed your hair, exactly?”
“Kiss my ass.”
Sharon, like any good sister, ignored that and stormed into the kitchen. She opened half the cabinets until she found the coffee, then got it brewing in no time. Evelyn just slumped into a chair, feeling like a useless lump in her own kitchen. Sharon had always been the one to take charge. Evelyn had always been happy to let her.
“All right,” Sharon said as she watched Evelyn inhale the coffee’s aroma. “Tell me about this stomach flu that makes you lose twenty pounds in two weeks but still lets you drink coffee.”
Evelyn paused midsip, her eyes rising to meet Sharon’s through the steam. “Huh?”
“Coffee, Evelyn? That’s pretty hard on even a healthy stomach.”
“I’ve been feeling better today.”
“You don’t look like you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks for the support.” Evelyn swallowed a large gulp of coffee, realizing that she needed to get some caffeine in her quickly to keep up with this.
“I’m your sister,” Sharon said. “Please tell me the truth.”
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