Sonny is saving the diamond bracelet for her, it’s likely to be hidden here.
She lifts stacks of folded underwear, rifles through a mound of socks and slides her hands beneath several cotton handkerchiefs. Nothing. She opens the lowest drawer on the right, scoops up a collection of cuff links and watches, and sets the jewelry on the edge of a shelf. After running her thumbnail along the side of the drawer, she removes the velvet-lined false bottom and exposes the digital keypad.
If she hadn’t been home alone when the deliverymen brought the armoire, she wouldn’t know about this secret safe. In an effort to be helpful—and undoubtedly to secure a bigger tip—the deliveryman had pointed out the safe’s location and given her a sealed envelope containing the combination Sonny had chosen: six, five, eighty-five. Their wedding anniversary.
She had never mentioned the safe to Sonny; she wasn’t sure if he even used it. But now her breath solidifies in her throat as she presses the appropriate keys. The keypad beeps, releasing the lock on the hinged cover. She opens the safe she hasn’t thought about in years.
No bracelet. Nothing but papers: the deed to the house, their passports, a card with bank and mutual-fund account numbers. Nothing unusual, nothing incriminating, except—
Despite the bands of tightness around her lungs, Gina snatches a breath and picks up an unfamiliar bankbook. The plastic cover is shiny, the opening date less than four months ago. The bank is located in the Cayman Islands, and the account is in Sonny’s name alone. Opening balance: one hundred fifty thousand dollars.
Her heart turns to stone within her chest. He’s already begun to bleed his family dry.
She sinks to the edge of the bed. At various moments since receiving the private investigator’s report, she’s wanted to deny everything, strangle her husband and kill herself. At one point she was certain she deserved Sonny’s betrayal because she hadn’t been a better wife.
But those were emotional responses; she should have expected them. Now she needs to put her feelings aside and think about what to do. She needs a plan…and the courage to see it through.
Her thoughts drift toward a book on her night table: Courage by Amelia Earhart. “Courage,” the aviatrix wrote, “is the price that Life exacts for granting peace.”
If Gina is to have peace, she must move forward with confidence and determination. At long last her questions have been answered, her suspicions confirmed. Now she has evidence in black, white and full color. The P.I.’s package has provided everything she needs to divorce Sonny, but no one cares much about culpability these days. No-fault divorce has simplified procedures for cheating spouses and the sheer frequency of cases has made the division of a couple’s estate a matter of routine. A judge will look over their assets, draw a line to divide his from hers and send them on their way. Of course, with the wrinkle of this other bank account, perhaps it’s not going to be that easy.
Gina turns to the investigator’s report and runs her finger over the notation about Bern’s. How could Sonny think he had the right to take that woman to their favorite place? And how could Francis, the maître d’, seat Sonny with an imposter hanging on his arm?
Maybe Francis didn’t know about the affair…. Then again, it’s more likely that Sonny bought Francis’s silence with generous tips and sly smiles. Despite the camaraderie Gina and Francis have shared within the walls of the restaurant, the man is a servant, not a friend.
Only a close friend would be honest and courageous enough to reveal that your husband has a mistress, a sad truth that underscores an unexpected revelation: Gina has no close friends. No one told her about Sonny’s affair; no one at the office, the country club or the church they faithfully attend at Christmas and Easter.
Surely someone has seen him with that woman. Gina can’t shop at any mall for more than an hour without encountering someone she knows through the business or the club. Sonny is far more extroverted than she is, so people have to have seen him with his little chit.
Perhaps people have seen him…and traded knowing looks, clucking in sympathy for the deceived wife and the poor children. Maybe they’ve wondered aloud how long the marriage will last…and what she’s done to make Sonny wander.
What has she done? Nothing but give him the best years of her life, raise his children, decorate his house and stand by his side through dozens of boring conventions, holiday parties and client dinners. She’s reined in her instincts and bitten her tongue so many times it’s a wonder she can still speak, and for what? A man who would betray her and squander his children’s future on a tramp.
Sonny hasn’t mentioned a divorce, but his girlfriend won’t wait forever. She’ll press for marriage one of these days, but before he hits Gina with the news, he’ll make sure his assets are hidden and his business protected…just as he’s already doing.
Gina will be ambushed.
Her children are being bankrupted.
She places the bankbook back in the safe and returns the jewelry to the drawer. She folds the investigator’s report and slides it back into the manila envelope. The man has written a note on his business card—If you’d like me to spend a few more hours on the case, I could identify the woman in question.
Gina snorts softly. She’s not spending another penny on Sonny. He can exchange his fortysomething wife for two twenties, for all she cares. But he cannot steal from his children.
Ending this marriage will crush the kids, of course. They will be loyal to her, but they love their father and won’t want to hurt him. She could tell them everything, let them see the proof of his infidelity, but teenagers don’t always accept the truth. Most of the time they end up resenting the messenger who brings bad news.
She won’t let them resent her because she’s done nothing wrong. Sonny is the guilty party, he’s the gangrene. And like an infected limb, he deserves to be chopped off.
Being teenagers, the kids have been so wrapped up in their individual worlds they haven’t noticed Sonny’s absences, his odd lapses into silence or his indifference on the rare occasions he’s come home for dinner. He has already impoverished them emotionally; he will not ruin them financially, too.
If Gina says nothing and keeps Sonny’s failings private, the kids will split their loyalties and try to make the best of a bad situation. They might even accept the other woman, whomever she is. Like characters in one of those Lifetime movies, every weekend they’ll kiss Gina goodbye and head off for picnics and football games with Sonny’s replacement wife.
That would be altogether unacceptable.
Michelle crouches on the tile floor and opens the cabinet beneath the sink, searching among bottles of hair spray, lotion and nail polish remover until she spies the blue box. How many years has it been sitting there—one or two? Has it expired?
She pushes aside a bag of cotton balls, then pulls out the box and searches for the expiration date—the kit is still good, so she skims the instructions. The test kit promises quick results and ninety-nine percent accuracy. After five seconds in the urine stream, the stick will turn pink; after two more minutes the result window will reveal an easy-to-read plus or minus.
Pregnant or not?
She sinks to the cold tile as the significance of the question hits home. She’s tried to be responsible, but life is like
