“He made a huge mistake, there’s no getting around that; he shouldn’t have done it, but marriage isn’t about being perfect. If you really love each other, which you two do, it’s obvious to anyone who’s been around you both, then it’s about growing together and lifting each other up when you fall and when you fail, and becoming more than you could ever be alone.”
“How can we be more together? There is no more. He’s taken everything from us.”
“That’s just money,” Milly said.
“Money and a house and our self-respect, our livelihood.”
Milly reached over and put her hand on Sylvia’s. “What you two have is worth so much more than that.”
Sylvia nodded and took a sip of her wine. “I suppose,” she said.
They were quiet for a moment, possibly the longest Sylvia had stayed quiet ever, but she was trying to absorb all that Milly was saying. Milly was a good friend, but she was usually a listener more than anything, not one to push so hard for something she believed in.
“What do you think, Adele?” Milly asked.
Adele shrugged. “I am not one to give advice on relationships. I have never been married. But I would think if you can find it in yourself to forgive him, then you should forgive him, for your sake as much as his.”
“I know you’re both right, but I’m having a hard time getting to that point.” Sylvia said, sighing. “Anyway, enough about me. Has Lloyd shown his face yet?”
Milly sighed. “I’ve seen him, but not here. I went to Los Angeles to find him.”
“You did?” Sylvia said, shocked. “What did he have to say for himself? Good God, don’t tell me you caught him red-handed. Was he with that actress?”
“No.” Milly shook her head and looked down at her hands in her lap. “No, but it was awful. He lost his job. He was fired, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell me. He was so ashamed.”
“So there was no affair after all?” Adele asked.
Milly shook her head again. “If only it were that simple.” Milly kept her eyes down, as if thinking how much to share, but weren’t they beyond that by now?
“What do you mean?” Sylvia persisted. “Milly, either he is or he isn’t,” she pressed, but Milly shook her head.
“He is having an affair, or he was, I don’t know, it’s just not with the person I thought it was.”
“Oh, Milly. I’m sorry,” Sylvia said. “What a mess. All three of us. We’re a disaster.”
Milly took a long drink of her gin and tonic.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I have two young children. I don’t have a job. I can’t support us. And what would people think? We’d be the disgrace of the island. I suppose I have to accept the fact that I’ll spend my days with a man who doesn’t love me, who can’t love me,” she said, “ever.” She knocked back the rest of her drink.
“Well,” Adele said after a while, “I’ve been thinking about the reporter.”
“And?” Milly asked.
“And I realize now, it’s not your fault, either of you; you didn’t know who I really was or why I was keeping my past a secret. I was wrong to blame you when he came snooping around.”
“We really didn’t know,” Milly said.
“I should have recognized you,” Sylvia said, “but I just didn’t put two and two together.”
“That was my plan, to not be recognized,” Adele said. “And it worked. It was just a matter of time until someone figured it out.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Milly asked. “Mr. Rutherford. Has he bothered you? I made it very clear to him that he should not disturb you.”
“If he knocked, I didn’t answer,” Adele said. “I have barely been outside, and I have not opened my door.”
“I can attest to that,” Sylvia said. “I began to wonder if you were alive in there.”
