and of being too possessive.
David and Denny married within a year at the Marin Art and Garden Center, Denny pulling strings and calling in many favors to reserve the popular venue on such short notice. Olivia had been surprised when Denny had given up her business to be with David.
“Don’t be giving her ideas,” David said abruptly. “We don’t want Denny to think she can get back into party planning, do we? I need her at home with me.” David put his arm around Denny and pulled her close. Though he smiled, the gesture felt an act of physical domination. And there was no mistaking the flash of irritation in Denny’s eyes.
“I think Denny should be able to do whatever she wants,” Olivia said.
“Mom, don’t,” Denny said, her tone sharp like a slap across the face.
“Sorry,” Olivia said, putting her hands up in the air. “Forgive me. I’ve had a long day.”
“No worries,” David said. “We were just leaving anyway. Getting ready to say our goodbyes.”
“I should stay and help clean up,” Denny said. “I’ve got my car—”
“No, you’ll come with me. I’ll bring you to get your car in the morning,” David said.
“Okay,” Denny said.
“I’ll get our coats.” David nodded at Olivia and left them alone.
The minute he was out of earshot, Denny said, “Don’t say a word, Mom, okay? I know you think he’s bossy. But he’s stressed from his job.”
“It’s okay, honey. I wasn’t going to say anything.” Olivia had no business to criticize Denny’s marriage, did she? Especially in light of her own situation. “You did a beautiful job on my party. Thank you.” Olivia felt her eyes fill with unshed tears.
“Mom? Why are you crying?”
Olivia pulled Denny into a hug. “Because I’m so happy.” She lied easily. “And because I’m very proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? If it’s sunny maybe we could go for a walk.”
“Okay,” Olivia said. And with a wave, Denny was gone.
An hour later all of the other guests were gone too, save Richard’s business partner, Andrew Rincon, and another man who Olivia didn’t know. They sat with Richard in the living room, a bottle of Scotch on the table, talking in hushed whispers, oblivious to the fact that the party was over and everyone had left. Olivia took this opportunity to go into the bedroom and pack two suitcases for Richard. She took them into the hallway. That task completed, she called a locksmith, asking for an emergency change of locks.
“I can do it, but it’s not going to be cheap,” the man who answered the phone said.
“No problem. Can you be here in an hour?”
“See you then.”
After forwarding the video to Richard, Olivia sat in her room with the lights out, waiting for the last of the guests to leave. Once she and Richard were the only people in the house, Olivia made her way to the living room, where Richard stood with his back to her, a fresh glass of Scotch in his hand. She watched him swirl the ice around for a minute before he took a sip. She waited, letting her anger build along with her anticipation. When would he notice her? There she stood, reflected in the window right before his eyes. Yet he didn’t see her. Somehow this seemed a metaphor for their marriage, now that she knew it was over.
At last he looked up. From the squaring of his shoulders, she knew he’d finally noticed her reflection.
“Why did you threaten me with divorce?”
“I know.”
“Know what? I’m not in the mood for games, Liv. What are you playing at?”
“Now I know why you leave the room when you make certain phone calls, why you double-check if I’m near before you check your texts. God, I’ve been so naïve. I’m finished, Richard. Finished with you. Finished with our marriage.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Check your email.”
Olivia waited while Richard pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the email. She watched while the look in his eyes went from smug, to incredulity, to anger.
“Who’s the blonde, Richard?” Olivia didn’t bother to keep the disgust out of her voice.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve planting a camera in the studio. Jesus, Olivia. I didn’t realize you’d become so desperate.”
“I didn’t plant the video, Richard. How dare you! I’ve not set foot in that studio for ages, and you know it.”
“Olivia, listen—”
Richard moved close to Olivia. Instinctively she stepped away. “Stay away from me,” she hissed. “Who is she?”
“She’s my secretary.”
“Oh, my God. What a cliché.”
“She didn’t mean anything to me, Liv. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Are you serious? If I was going to cheat, at least I’d be damn sure it meant something. How many times, Richard?”
“How many—”
“Times. How many times have you cheated on me?” Although she was well aware of the white-hot rage that broiled under her skin, Olivia tucked it away to deal with later. She spoke without emotion, pretending she was in court, examining a witness. “I assume there have been others. Come on, Richard. This is the time for honesty. How many times?”
He stared at her, his surprise replaced by irritation.
“How. Many. Times?”
Sighing loudly, Richard shook his head. “Men have needs, Liv. Don’t take it personally. In Europe, it’s an accepted practice.”
“Get out of my house,” Olivia said, her voice flat and dull as stagnant water. “I’ve packed your suitcases. They’re by the front door. You can get your other things when it’s convenient.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Liv. I don’t take orders from anyone. And this isn’t your house.”
“Get. Out. Of. My. House.” Without thinking, Olivia moved to the fireplace, grabbed the poker, and brandished it at Richard.
Raising his hands, he backed away. “Olivia, you need to calm down.”
“I could bash your head in right now and happily go to prison. Get the hell out of my house.”
His fear turned to rage as he stared at her, his eyes running over her tattered jeans, her makeup-free face. Angry blotches of red bloomed on his face as he pushed past her, grabbed his suitcases and walked out the front door, away from their marriage,
