I let it ring.
Then texted:
Fifteen minutes.
He replied:
On my way.
I put the phone down and looked at my reflection in the dark microwave door.
My face looked calm.
That surprised me.
I went back to the living room.
“Richard’s on his way.”
“Finally.” Alexis smiled. “I’ve been waiting to surprise him. We’re going to Cabo next week. I booked the villa and everything.”
“Cabo’s nice. Expensive.”
“Richard’s paying. Obviously. He always pays. That’s what real men do.”
“How long have you two been together?”
“Six months. Best six months of my life. He buys me everything I want. Takes me to the best restaurants. Did you know he spent eight thousand dollars on my birthday necklace?”
“I did know.”
She did not notice the edge in my voice.
“That’s generous.”
“I said he’s generous with the right woman,” she replied. “His wife probably gets grocery store flowers and dinner at chain restaurants.”
“Probably.”
Richard’s car pulled into the driveway.
I heard it before Alexis did.
That ridiculous engine he insisted on because “clients expected a successful doctor to drive something impressive.”
Clients.
My money.
My lease.
My patience.
The front door opened.
Richard walked in looking panicked about a ceiling that had not collapsed.
He saw Alexis first.
His face went white.
Then he saw me.
He went whiter.
“Richard!” Alexis jumped up. “Surprise. I came to see you.”
“Alexis,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting you, silly. Your help let me in. Though she’s not very good. You may want to replace her.”
“My help?”
His eyes moved to me.
I smiled.
I kept my smile steady while watching Richard’s face shift through at least five expressions in three seconds. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He looked at Alexis, then back at me, then at Alexis again.
I could see him thinking.
Not feeling.
Thinking.
Choosing which lie might still fit inside the room.
His hand lifted to loosen his tie, even though it wasn’t tight. He took one strange half step backward, like his body wanted to run before his pride approved.
Alexis was still smiling.
Then she noticed he wasn’t.
She glanced at me with confusion, as if trying to understand why the staff had ruined the romantic surprise.
Her eyes moved to my left hand.
To the wedding ring.
The same small ring Richard placed on my finger twelve years ago in a courthouse because we were too broke for anything bigger.
She stared at it.
One second.
Two.
Three.
The realization moved across her face slowly, cruelly, almost beautifully.
Richard finally found his voice.
“She’s—” he started.
I lifted my hand before he could finish.
“Careful.”
His mouth closed.
He swallowed.
“She handles the house finances,” he said quickly. “Business manager, basically. She helps with paperwork and—”
“Richard,” I said.
Just his name.
That was enough.
Alexis stared at him.
Then at me.
I held my hand up so the ring caught the window light.
“I’m his wife,” I said clearly. “Twelve years. The one you’ve been talking about for the past twenty minutes while I brought you water with too much ice.”
The color drained from Alexis’s face so quickly I thought she might faint on my hardwood floors.
Her eyes widened.
Her mouth opened.
Her purse slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with an expensive-sounding thud.
Richard moved toward her.
I held up one hand.
“No.”
They both looked at me.
“Sit down.”
Richard opened his mouth, probably to say this wasn’t the time or we should speak privately or some other convenient line men use when exposure arrives before strategy.
Something in my face stopped him.
He sat on the edge of the couch like a man waiting for sentencing.
Alexis sat on the opposite end, as far from him as possible without leaving the room.
I stayed standing.
Sitting would have felt like surrendering height I had earned.
I looked at Alexis.
“Tell me everything.”
She immediately looked at Richard, as if he could give her permission.
He stared at his hands.
That told her more than I ever could.
She began in a small voice.
They met at a hospital fundraiser. Richard told her he was unhappily married. His wife did not understand him. His wife was boring, old, indifferent, cold. His wife made him feel small.
Her voice grew weaker as she spoke, as if each sentence sounded more foolish now that the wife was standing in front of her.
Richard tried to interrupt.
“Evelyn—”
That was my name.