“I do. We didn’t talk about it much because you didn’t want to, and I wanted to respect that,” she says, taking another bite of her food.
I put my drink down. “I found out he was married.”
Nora’s eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah. Oh shit is right.” I lean back against the vinyl seat, the memories still sharp enough to hurt. “His name was Daniel. He was a senior account manager, older, sophisticated. Everything I thought I wanted in a man.”
“How long were you actually together?”
“Eight months. Eight months of thinking I’d finally found my person, you know? He was charming and funny, and he made me feel like I was the most important thing in his world.”
Marge brings our food, and I wait until she’s out of earshot before continuing.
“We kept it quiet at work, company policy and all that. I thought he was being professional. Turns out he was just being careful not to let his wife find out.”
“Jesus, Aubree. How did you find out?”
I take a bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly while I work up the courage to tell the story I’ve been trying not to think about for weeks.
“Company party. He’d been acting weird all week, distant. I thought maybe he was planning to go public with our relationship, make some grand gesture. You know, like the ones in romance novels. I was so naïve.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I showed up in this gorgeous dress, ready to be his date officially for the first time.”
“And?”
“And he was there with his wife. Very pregnant wife. Like, ready-to-pop pregnant.” The memory still makes my stomach clench. “She was beautiful, Nora. Sweet and glowing and everything a pregnant woman should be. And she kept talking about how excited they were about the baby, how Daniel was going to be such a good father.”
Nora reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “That bastard.”
“The worst part was, he saw me see them. And he had the audacity to look guilty. Not ashamed or apologetic. Guilty. Like I was the one who’d done something wrong by showing up at a work function.”
“What did you do?”
“I went to the bathroom and threw up. Then I went home, packed a bag, and spent the weekend at a hotel trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life. I didn’t want him to be able to find me. So I made it where he couldn’t.”
“Did you confront him?”
“Monday morning. He actually tried to explain it away, said it was complicated, that he and his wife were having problems. All the classic cheater lines.” I push lettuce around on my plate, my appetite gone. “I told him exactly what I thought of him and his complications, then I went to HR.”
“Good for you.”
“Not really. Turns out, reporting the married head of the accounting department for having an affair with you is a great way to make your work life unbearable. Suddenly, I was getting the worst assignments, being left out of meetings, and generally frozen out by everyone who mattered.”
Nora’s expression darkens. “That’s illegal, isn’t it?”
“Probably. But proving it would have been a nightmare, and I just…I didn’t have the fight left in me. I’d spent eight months thinking I was building a life with someone, only to find out I was just a side piece. It broke something in me.”
We sit in silence for a moment, the sounds of the diner washing over us.
“So you quit?” Nora asks finally.
“I quit. Cashed out my 401k, broke my lease, and came home to lick my wounds.” I meet her eyes across the table. “Pathetic, right?”
“Not pathetic. Human.” She leans forward, her expression fierce. “That asshole used you, Aubree. He lied to you for eight months. You have every right to be hurt and angry and confused.”
“I keep thinking I should have known. There had to be signs, right? Nobody’s that good at compartmentalizing their life.”
“Or maybe he was just a really good liar. Sociopaths usually are.” She gives me a wink.
That makes me smile for the first time since we sat down. This is why, after everything, she’s still one of my best friends. “Thanks for not saying ‘I told you so.’”
