No one is going to take him away from me. I’ve provided the training on how to treat a young, gorgeous new wife. I’m the one who has created our exciting life. Kate will not waltz in and take it all back. She will not.

As we step off the gondola, away from the crying baby, I turn and face him. “Tell me what’s not working? We need to figure things out.”

He looks up at the sky. “Let’s discuss this back home.”

I shake my head. “No, let’s discuss this now. How long have you been seeing Kate? Sneaking around behind my back? Tell me the truth. I will forgive you, of course. Everyone makes mistakes. As long as it doesn’t happen again. You’ve been under stress. The grass seems greener, yada yada. And of course, she must resign. I can’t have her working there with you. Not anymore.” My hands land on my hips before I realize it. I tell myself to breathe. To calm down. I’m shaking with fury. There is a regular parade of gondola riders walking past us. I fake-smile at a couple, and they look away.

“What are you talking about?” John acts puzzled, but he’s not. I guess he’s just surprised I know so much.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Look, you and I did the same thing. Tell me the truth.” My voice is a hiss. I poke him in the chest for emphasis.

John blinks and backs away, hands held up like he’s surrendering to the police. “The truth is that this isn’t working. Us. You and me.”

How dare he? He’s tossing up his hands and trying to tell me it’s over. Here? Like this? I stare at him, searching for an answer. He drops his head.

I’m so mad I can barely speak. “We are fine. You don’t get to claim it isn’t working. No, that’s not how it’s done. You just need to pay attention to our relationship again. Come back to me. Stay away from Kate.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” John is such a bad liar.

I don’t say another word. I turn and walk toward the condo. In my mind, the image of our perfect family, our perfect life, crumbles into dust. He seemed like just what I’d been looking for, and for a while he was. Now, he’s a disgrace—weak and disloyal.

I stomp into the lobby of the condominium complex, aware I’m still shaking. I take a deep breath and calm myself. I can handle anything. That’s why I’ve survived on my own for so long. I thought John was different, I thought I could count on him. I learned growing up that you have to keep your options open. It’s time to pivot from love to revenge.

The elevator doors open, and I step inside, stabbing the button for the penthouse. John arrives at the elevator just as the doors shut, him on the other side. I give him a quick shrug but don’t make a move to reopen the doors. I guess he’ll just have to wait in the lobby for a bit. It will give him time to think about what he’s done.

It’s too bad he’s turned into a liar. It really is a shame. The truth can set you free, I’ve heard. So what does lying do for you?

CHAPTER 10

JOHN

When the doors of the elevator closed, I almost left. I could have called the pilots and flown home. I did call Ashlyn and cheered myself up with the sound of her voice. I almost walked out, but I didn’t. I promised Tish one night here, and I would keep my word.

By the time I walked into the condo, it was like nothing had happened between us. As if we’d never fought. Tish made a big pitcher of margaritas, and we’re sitting out on the deck watching the sun drop behind the mountain. The air is turning crisp, and in a few minutes, I’ll need a jacket. I soak up the beauty of the purple sky and take a sip of my drink. All I need to do is get through tonight and get back home. All the way home.

I inhale a deep breath. In my opinion, this is the best time of day during the summers up here. The light, the warm breeze that turns a little bit chilly once the dying glow of the sun disappears. It’s gorgeous. I remind myself to take another breath. Since our little chat, I’ve been on edge, waiting for an explosion of sorts from Tish. But nothing bad has happened yet. She’s been fine, calm and friendly even. Maybe she realizes it, too. The spark is gone. She’ll be happier without me.

I sip my cocktail, enjoying the salt rim although I know I shouldn’t be. I think the drink is a margarita, but from the stiff taste of it, she’s added extra alcohol. It’s a tangy, somewhat bitter version of a margarita. I love margaritas, so I’m not complaining.

I hold my glass up to her as she walks outside carrying a tray with guacamole, chips, and salsa. This is when I fell in love with her, why I fell in love with her. She’s unexpected. Spontaneous. Unlike anyone I’d ever known. Kate and I had gotten into a rut, a pattern where neither of us had the energy to do anything but work and try to manage Ashlyn. We were just barely keeping it together. There was no fun, no laughter. Every day was heavy. Tish was light.

“Cheers! This is good.” I lie and take another big sip.

“I wondered if it was too bitter. Glad you like it. I added a little something special.” Tish sits down across from me. I notice she’s drinking wine.

“Can I pour you one?” I lean forward, reaching for the pitcher.

“Oh, no thanks, I overindulged at lunch. Gave me a bit of a headache, so I’m sticking with rosé. A little hair of the pink dog.” She lifts her glass. “Cheers, though! I’m sorry for starting a fight. It’s such a beautiful evening. Seems your altitude sickness has subsided?”

I shrug. “I suppose it has, or the drink is masking it.” I dip a chip into the guacamole and enjoy the salty, lemony taste. “This is just about perfection.”

Tish wears a fitted white sweatshirt with a lacy bottom. She has on jeans and the summer boots she bought at the boutique in town. Her hair is shiny and tucked behind her ears. Aside from the large diamond studs sparkling in each ear—last year’s Christmas gift, among other things—and the oversize wedding ring, she could still be the same young woman who appeared at EventCo five years ago, fresh off the turnip truck from somewhere in eastern Kentucky. Or was it Cincinnati?

My mind has a pleasant haze gathering around it.

Despite what Kate thinks now, I didn’t hire Tish. Sandra from HR did. Actually, truth be told, the only folks I care to really interview are executive level, like Jennifer or Lance. Kate and I used to do those interviews together, making sure we both agreed before extending an offer. Thinking back on it, that sounds so simple, so functional.

Ah hell, we were good. We just needed counseling, or mediation, or meditation, or maybe a vacation alone.

We just needed to try a little harder.

I needed to try a little harder.

I should have tried harder.

I pull out my phone. Tish is somewhere inside, so the coast is clear. I take a photo of my margarita glass and quickly text it with a “cheers” message from under the table. All’s well, my cheers is implying. Even though it’s not, and she knows it.

My phone lights up: Looks delicious. Enjoy.

I text: It tastes horrible. I’m just trying to get drunk. It’s working.

She texts: Ha! Xo

My heart swells. It’s nice to have someone who cares about you. I hurry and delete this text chain so Tish won’t see it when she snoops. She’s always spying on me. I slip my phone under my thigh. This margarita is going to my head. I swipe the moisture away from under my eyes, quickly, before Tish sees it. I grab a chip and dunk it into the salsa. I almost miss my mouth before gobbling it down.

She’s filling my glass again. I probably should tell her to stop, but the drink takes the edge off this shit show. I’ve got nowhere to be, nothing to do, until I fly out of here tomorrow. “What time do you have the plane scheduled?”

Tish throws her hands in the air. “Why? Ready to get away from me?”

“No, of course not. Just a lot to deal with back home, that’s all.” I know my speech is slurring. I tell myself to talk slowly. I tell myself I’m happy to be here, drinking on the deck, watching the moonrise. Pretending everything is fine. Meanwhile, my inbox is piled high with emails. What does she expect? I just took a company public.

Then a word comes to me, the word to describe Tish: selfish.

“When did you stop loving me, John?” She’s put sunglasses on, big black-rimmed sunglasses. She looks a little like a fly. Which is funny. I hear myself chuckle. I cover my mouth.

“What are you talking about, honey?” I gulp some more margarita as Tish’s face blurs and then comes into focus. My phone vibrates under my thigh. I can’t take the chance of looking at it, not with Tish staring at me. I need to say something. “I love you.”

“I think that’s past tense. You’ve made it very clear today that you’ve moved on, that our relationship isn’t working. I believe that’s exactly what you said. I know the signs, remember? You did this with me, too. It’s a shame, John. You shouldn’t go backward in life. Kate is a mistake. She’s not as perfect as she seems, remember? You left her for a reason.”