Camille
Upon arriving home, Rob went directly to the sofa, where he is stretched out, dealing with a flood of texts, presumably from his sisters.
I watch over him, uncertain of what to do. He hasn’t said a word to me since we left his parents’ house. I go into the kitchen and fix myself a glass of wine, drink half of it and then pour one for him. From my vantage point, I can see him texting. At least he’s talking to someone.
I sit on the coffee table and offer him the glass of wine.
He sits up and takes the glass, downing most of it in one big gulp. “Thanks.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing.” He continues to respond to texts while I sit there feeling stupid and impotent.
I get up, put my glass in the sink and go take a shower.
The new-wife handbook didn’t include a chapter on what to do when your in-laws’ marriage implodes right in front of you.
And when your father-in-law is the governor of New York, there needs to be an additional chapter on how to navigate what’s certain to be a huge public relations challenge on top of the personal disaster.
Good times.
As I wash off salt water and sunscreen, I relive the scene on the deck.
At first, I couldn’t figure out who the guy in the light blue oxford shirt was or what he wanted with us.
And then, when the pieces began to fall into place, the shock ricocheted through the family like a poison arrow, permanently changing each person as the realization set in.
Sarah Beth Tilden was never a warm or fuzzy kind of person, but I wouldn’t have thought her capable of the sort of callousness she exhibited today. The man she left with was younger than she was, handsome and clearly intent on leaving with his prize—if you could call her that.
The aftermath of their departure reminded me of the way people look on TV after an F-5 tornado levels their home. And Rob… God, he’s a mess. He wanted to go after his mother, but his father stopped him. “Let her go,” Bob said. “It’s what she wants.”
That’s when Rob, Amy and Jules realized their father knew about the affair, which only served to multiply their shock.
I shudder with revulsion. Watching people I love be steamrolled by someone who was supposed to love them made me sick. That woman will be my children’s grandmother.
I get out of the shower, dry off and don a robe. My phone is alive with new texts from my mother and Ava. I read Ava’s first.
How’s Rob? Eric is so shocked. I feel terrible for him. I can’t believe someone would do this to their own family.
Rob is a mess. I sort of believe it… He’s never come right out and used the word selfish to describe her, but I’ve picked up on things over the years. Are you with Eric?
Yes, didn’t want him to be alone.
Nice to see you two together. You look happy.
I am. Or I was until this happened… Mom texted me. Did you talk to her?
Not yet. They left shortly after it all went down. I’ll call her in the morning.
Check in with me after you talk to her.
Will do. Hope you guys can get some sleep.
Same to you. xo
I change into one of the sexy nightgowns I received as a shower gift and get into bed, wondering if Rob will join me or fall asleep on the sofa. I think about going to get him but decide to give him some space. If he needs me, he knows where to find me.
Leaving the light on for him, I turn toward his side of the bed.
Though I’m tired and drained, sleep proves elusive.
How will the meltdown of the Tildens’ marriage affect the plans Rob and I have made?
Will the press go wild over the story of the governor’s wife leaving him for another man?
Probably… Imagining the sordid headlines apt to turn up in the New York Post disgusts me, because surely Sarah Beth anticipated them.
At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep. When I awake in the middle of the night, Rob is next to me, awake and staring up at the ceiling.
“Hey,” I say, reaching for him.
He places his hand on top of mine.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, never better,” he says with a bitter laugh.
I move closer and snuggle up to him. “I wish there was something I could say or do to help.”
“I know, babe. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay. You can.” I caress his bare chest, trying to offer what comfort I can. “What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking about my dad. This is going to diminish him in more ways than one.
The party has been all over him to declare his intention to seek a second term, and he hasn’t been willing to even meet with them.
Now I know it’s because his wife is cheating on him, and he’s trying to figure out how to handle that in the context of a reelection campaign. ”
“The poor guy.”
“That poor guy has put up with this for a long time, apparently.”
“Are you angry with him?”
“God, no. It’s just going to create a nightmare for us at work. I can’t begin to imagine the headlines.”
“I was thinking earlier about what the Post would have to say.”
A shudder ripples through his body and mine, too. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
“Sit up.” I help him up and rub his back as he takes a series of deep breaths.
“How could she do this to him? To us?”
“I’ve been asking myself that since it happened.”
“It’s like a gigantic ‘fuck you’ to her entire family. I hate that you and Ava and your parents were there, too.”
“Don’t worry about us. We’re thinking only of you and your dad and siblings. No judgment.”
“My mother texted us.”
“What did she say?”
“That she’s sorry but she can’t live a lie anymore.”
“Unreal.”
He raises his head and looks over at me. “This could fuck up everything for us.”
“Why would it? Your mother’s actions are no reflection on you.”
“Sure they are. The Tilden name is going to get run through the mud, and when the mudslinging is over, our political fortunes aren’t going to look quite as shiny as they did before.”
Disappointment and disillusionment color his every word.
“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out the way we always do.”
He leans his head on my chest.
I run my fingers through his dark hair, wishing there was something I could say or do that would make him feel better, to assure him it won’t be as bad as he thinks.
But I can’t do that, because when people find out about the dramatic way his mother chose to end her marriage, it will be an epic scandal.
Ava
I put my hair up in a bun and step into Eric’s shower.
I admire the tiny glass tiles that make up the shower, as well as the slate countertop and vessel sinks.
His home suits him. It’s classy and hip and sophisticated.
Using body wash that smells like him, I wash up quickly so I can get back to him.
The events of the last twenty-four hours make me feel strangely removed from the reality that’s been my life for the last five years.
The woman standing naked in Eric Tilden’s shower bears no resemblance whatsoever to who she was this time yesterday.
I’ve taken a giant leap forward on my path toward a new life, and I’m proud of my progress, even if I’m sad for Eric and his family.
While I want to be supportive of him, I also need to stay focused on this positive new path I find myself on. Being here with him, overnight, is a huge step for me, and I want to enjoy it. I want to enjoy him and my newfound freedom and…
God, I’m a jerk for thinking of myself at a time like this. He’s a mess, and it’s not about me tonight. It can’t be about me.
But maybe it can be about us, about taking that step forward together. I’m down with whatever it takes to keep moving in the right direction.
I turn off the water, towel off and change into a faded yellow T-shirt from a 5K road race that Eric gave me to sleep in. It smells like fabric softener and falls to my thighs. I brush my hair and teeth and take a minute to collect my thoughts before I join him in the bedroom.
He’s sitting on the bed, wearing only a pair of gym shorts and staring off into space. When I emerge from the bathroom, he stands and comes over to me. “I’m going to take a quick shower, too. Make yourself comfortable.” He kisses my cheek and disappears into the bathroom.
I sit on the bed and read an email from my new boss, giving me the rundown for my first day on Monday. His name is Trevor, and he seems like a nice enough guy. He ends the email with: We’ve got an exciting project we want to bring you in on. More to come on that. Look forward to seeing you Monday!
I write back to thank him for the information. I’m looking forward to hearing more about the project. See you Monday!
I’m contemplating checking to see if the Pentagon has released the names of the service members who were killed when Eric comes out of the bathroom, his hair damp and his face freshly shaven. My gaze travels over his bare chest and muscular abdomen.
He crawls onto the bed and lands next to me. “Everything okay?” he asks, nodding to my phone.
“Uh-huh. Just answering an email from the new boss.” I put my phone on the bedside table and give him my full attention. “How’re you doing?”
“Better because you’re here.” He smooths the hair back from my face. “I want to go back to where we were on the boat, before the shit hit the fan. Can we do that?”
“I can if you can.”
“Remind me of where we left off,” he says, running his thumb over my bottom lip, his gaze fixed on my mouth.
“I think it was something like this…” I lean closer to kiss him. “And this.” I kiss him again. “Is it coming back to you?”
“Not quite yet.”
Smiling, I kiss him again, lingering a little longer this time.
“Ava,” he says, his hand diving into my hair to anchor me to him. “You’re so sweet and so sexy.”
As he kisses me more intently, I have a flashback of John saying almost those exact words to me in the same desperate tone. I don’t want to think of him when Eric is kissing me so passionately, but there he is, smack in the middle of everything.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his lips hovering above mine.