It doesn’t matter if he did it after we left each other. My heart doesn’t recognize the fact that dating other women as a single man would’ve been his right. My heart, which has only ever beaten for one man, doesn’t break less.
“Mommy,” Noah complains.
I give a start, almost dropping the phone. Closing the search engine quickly, I smile even though everything inside me is tearing apart. “What is it, sweetheart?”
He holds up his hands. “I’m sticky.”
“Here.” Emily hands him a paper towel. “Would you like more water?”
He wipes his hands and hops off the chair. “No, thanks. I’m not thirsty anymore.”
I get to my feet, feeling heavy and numb and nauseous at the same time. “Let’s go wash your hands.”
For the rest of the day, I restrain myself from opening the search engine on my phone. I go through the motions, helping Emily with the chores and taking care of Noah, but the ache remains in my chest. I can’t stop thinking about those photos, how devastatingly handsome my husband looked in each of them, and how those gorgeous women stared up at him with intimate and secretive smiles that didn’t escape the paparazzi cameras.
I do my best to distract myself, teaching Noah the alphabet and playing a new board game with him. After I’ve put him to bed, I pour myself a glass of wine and have a long chat with Jazz on the phone. She complains about her messy roommate but refuses my offer to come back and stay with us for longer.
When a pause falls over our conversation, I dare a question I should probably not ask. “Did Dante cheat on me?”
She’s quiet for a moment.
My heart starts thumping. “Jazz?”
“Honestly, Tiana, I don’t know. But isn’t that something you should ask him?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s a private matter.”
“Are you all right? Did something happen?”
I force a laugh. “I was just curious.” Wanting to change the subject, I say quickly, “Tell me more about your plans. Are you going to stay with your insufferable roommate, or are you going to look for a new place?”
“I don’t know yet. She’s a bit intimidated by the men watching our door.” She snickers. “Maybe she’ll move out, and then I can look for someone who’s not a hygiene hazard.”
I cringe inwardly. “Sorry about the men. Dante just wants to make sure you’re safe.”
“I know.” She sighs. “How much influence do you have over your husband?”
Laughing, I admit, “I’m not sure. Why?”
“Can you ask him not to put Reino on guard duty at my door?”
“I knew it! There’s something between the two of you.”
“Um, yeah,” she says in her actress voice. “Hatred.”
I laugh some more. “He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”
“Trust me, Tiana. He’s bad news. Besides, I kind of have a crush on the director I’m going to audition for. I’ve always admired him.”
“That sounds like a fan crush. Don’t mix business and pleasure. You know that’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to have sex with the man just so that everyone can say I got the part—if I get it—because I slept my way to the top.”
“You will get the part. There’s no one more suited for the role than you.”
“Thanks.” She makes a kissing sound. “That’s why you’re my best friend. You always know what to say.”
We chat for a while longer while Jazz goes through her nightly beauty routine. When we hang up, I have an urge to do something physically strenuous that will take my mind off the images that run on a loop through my mind, something like swimming a hundred laps in the pool or spring cleaning, but I don’t want to leave Noah alone in the house, sleeping in his bed. He may wake up from another nightmare and call for me. And the house is clean. The cupboards are tidy. There’s nothing to organize.
