She shook her head, her contempt obvious.Hercontempt. Forme. Thenerve. “Ali gave up so much for you and you still doubt him?”
“Gave up so much?” I choked on the words. “Like what? Are you referring to yourself?”
“You never deserved him,” she said sadly. “He was the most decent guy in the world.” And then Lizzie Martins did what threatened to become a habit whenever the two of us came face-to-face.
She bolted.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Just let it go,” Lulu advised.
“Please turn over,” her masseuse ordered. Lulu flipped over on her back, tucking the sheet neatly under her arms. I was on my stomach a few feet away getting pummeled by my masseuse, Suzie, a small woman with mighty hands and elbows with pinpoint precision.
It was Saturday, a couple of days after I ran into Lizzie at the cemetery. Lulu had turned up before I’d even finished my morning coffee, insisting that I needed a self-care day after all I’d been through. She booked massages and afternoon tea at a quaint shop in Old Town that served the tastiest tiny sandwiches. The latter was a concession from my sister, who preferred tea at the Ritz but knew I favored the Alexandria waterfront.
Lulu and I were each naked under our sheets, our cots a few feet apart as we received side-by-side massages in the couples room. Ali and I had never gotten a couples massage, and it occurred to me that now we never could. Not that Ali would have been into it. I’d never bothered to suggest we get one because I knew he’d dismiss it as a waste of money.
“Let what go?” I asked my sister.
“Try to put that woman in your past. Look forward.”
“Would you just let it go if your husband left a house to an ex-girlfriend?” I winced as the masseuse’s elbow zeroed in on a tender spot near my shoulder blade. “Or would you try to find out everything there was to know about her and why he did that?”
Jenny murmured something in Mandarin. Suzie replied with an affirmative-sounding, “Mmm.”
Lulu released an exasperated sigh. “What do you hope to achieve?”
“Some closure. I really want to talk to Lizzie again.”
“You’re in la-la land if you really think that can happen.”
I opened one eye to look at her. “Why?”
She turned her head to meet my gaze. “Your husband dumped that girl to marry you. She’s not going to be super fond of you.”
This time, Suzie murmured something to Jenny. Then the two women traded a few quiet words back and forth. They were obviously talking about us. In the same way Lulu and I often switched to Arabic for the same purpose. But I didn’t have the energy to care what Suzie and Jenny overheard.
“She doesn’t have to like me,” I told my sister. “I just want to know the truth.”
“Even if she wasn’t sleeping with Ali, she could easily tell you that she was, just to hurt you. To get back at you for stealing him from her.” More words between the masseuses. “You’ll never know if what Lizzie Martins tells you is the truth.”
“I have to at least try.”
“I think you should focus on what was good and real between you and Ali,” Lulu said. “He was a caring husband and father. He made you feel loved and appreciated.”
Tears stung my eyes. I closed them, pretending to focus on the sensations provoked by Suzie’s expert fingers. “I have to make it make sense. I don’t want to wonder about Ali’s involvement with Lizzie for the rest of my life.”
Jenny and Suzie exchanged more quiet words.
“I read somewhere that your life has many seasons,” Lulu said. “Your season with Ali has come to an end. You’re entering a new season. See a therapist. Figure out what that means.”
Her advice made sense. I’d been in constant upheaval since Ali died. Maybe a grief counselor could help me sort out the tangle of emotionsclogging my insides. But I felt like I needed to resolve this Cozy Glenn business before doing anything else.
The timer went off, signaling the end of our massage. The masseuses pounded our backs a few more times before leaving us, quietly closing the door behind them. As we were pulling our clothes on, Lulu got a call from Khalid.
“We can take our time and go shopping after tea if you want. I don’t need to get home to the kids,” she said when she hung up. “Khalid was supposed to meet up with Nasser, but Nasser apparently forgot he has a thing with his JMU friends.”
I swung my head toward her. “He’s meeting his college friends?”
