Chapter 19
a perfect match
Colin
Today was the first Sunday in a long time when I barely saw Ceci, only at meals.
She doesn’t suspect anything, does she?
I left no traces. I never do.
Especially not after her reaction to the scent on my jacket the day of Alicia’s ballet recital.
At first, I found it almost endearing. Proof that, after all these years, she can still feel jealous of me.
But when I saw how intent she was on uncovering the truth, I had no choice but to redirect her attention.
That day, I didn’t touch Maya. I didn’t let her touch me, either—not even when she tried, while we were wrapping up and going over contract drafts.
I kept my distance, deliberately. I’d already told her I’d be at her apartment the next day, a Saturday, when fewer contracts competed for my attention.
I told myself I could afford those hours before going home.
It wasn’t weakness. I was the one setting boundaries. She was the one testing them.
I had to remind myself it was Maya who handed me my suit jacket from where it hung in my office before I left for the recital. I’ll need to tell her to change perfumes, or stop wearing them altogether. One trace is all it takes, and I can’t afford another close call.
Yesterday, I let jealousy get the better of me.
Maybe it was the way Ceci seemed distant, her only genuine smile reserved for Santoro.
I let it gnaw at me, slowly, until it consumed everything else.
Santoro isn’t the first man to look at her that way, and he won’t be the last. But I’ve never reacted like this before—because, deep down, I know Ceci would never cross that line. Not my Ceci.
Still, I lost my head. I let baseless jealousy take over and nearly brought everything crashing down. I can’t believe how reckless I was.
It’s handled now. Contained.
I had to appease Maya, use the right words until she finally swallowed the pill.
I wouldn’t have forced her, but I wasn’t leaving that apartment until she did.
Persuasion is a method; people bend when the argument is right.
I wasn’t about to rely on her assurance that she was on birth control, and I certainly wasn’t counting on her taking it correctly.
I’d done my research. Even if she was already on the pill, the additional dose would only cause minor side effects, a brief hormonal overload. My work has taught me never to let chance dictate outcomes, never to tolerate variables that increase the risk of failure. Variables have to be eliminated.
When I left Maya’s apartment, the weight lifted cleanly from my shoulders. The variable was gone. The problem no longer existed.
I didn’t get home until after three in the morning. I put my tuxedo in the wash, showered in the downstairs bathroom, then slipped into bed beside Ceci. She was sleeping soundly, not even stirring when I pulled her into my arms.
When I woke, she was already gone. I found her finishing breakfast and got nothing more than a kiss on the cheek. She seemed distracted, didn’t even ask what time I’d come home.
She’s been in the sunroom for hours now, buried in her new article. I tried to coax her upstairs to lie with me, but she said she needed more time. It’s past midnight, and she still hasn’t come up. I can’t fall asleep without her.
A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens slowly. I smile—she looks almost surprised to find me awake.
“I couldn’t sleep without you in my arms,” I say, still smiling.
She walks toward the bathroom with her back to me. “I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll be right back.”
Nearly half an hour passes before Ceci slips beneath the covers. I pull her close. She stiffens.
My brow tightens. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. My shoulders are sore from all those hours writing and researching.”
I kiss her forehead. “Want me to massage them?”
“No, thank you. I just want to sleep.”
I make slow circles on her shoulders until sleep takes me.
When I wake again, she’s on her side of the bed, turned away from me.
I find myself rereading the same paragraphs again and again, eyes on the proposal, thoughts fixed on Ceci. I can’t shake the sense that something is off with her, that I’m missing a detail I should already understand.
Three soft knocks sound at the door.
Maya comes in without waiting. When she stops beside my desk, she leans in, holding out the tablet with the latest report I asked for. I try to focus, force my attention to the numbers and charts, but my gaze betrays me. Keeps drifting to her mouth.
A thought slips in, unwelcome but insistent… I could let her. Just this once. Just enough to take the edge off.
No. Not here.
Before I can fully shut it down, two more knocks echo through the room. Maya and I both look up.
Ceci stands in the doorway, peeking in.
My chest tightens.
Ceci.
Cecily
I thought I might need to invent an excuse to tour the company with Colin, just to get a feel for things. But if their proximity, the look on his face, and the way that woman stares at me—as if I’m competition to be crushed beneath her heel—aren’t clues, then I don’t know what would be.
And then there’s the lipstick. The damn red lipstick.
I’m almost certain that if I had the shirt with me and held it up to her mouth, they’d be a perfect match.
I nearly didn’t come. Almost talked myself out of it.
When I found the stain on his shirt on Friday, I sat with it for over an hour, turning it over in my hands, torn between asking Ethan to stay with his sister and crossing into Manhattan to see if Colin was at the office…
and if he was alone. Before that impulse could harden into action, I told myself there had to be another explanation.
There always is, if you look hard enough.
Then I reminded myself we’d been married for over eighteen years. We had a beautiful family, a life built with care, with love layered over time. Whatever this was, it could only be a misunderstanding.
Colin wouldn’t betray me.
Then came the gala on Saturday. He was impossibly attentive, exactly as he’d always been, even though I felt a world away from him.
He bristled with jealousy when he saw me talking to Alexander, a harmless conversation about the kids and his dog, Sam.
A man who loves me like that, who reacts that way… he wouldn’t betray me.
Would he?
And yet, Sunday morning, I found his tuxedo in the washer.
His tuxedo.
In all our years together, I can count on both hands the number of times Colin has ever put his own clothes in the wash—especially not something he would know better than to treat that way.
I nearly broke down then, his jacket clenched in my fists, but I didn’t.
I told myself I needed more than traces.
More than shadows that vanish like footprints in the sand.
Still… I can’t shake the feeling that I’m close. Too close.
“Am I interrupting? I was nearby and thought I’d stop in to say hello,” I manage, forcing a smile that already feels fragile.
My words seem to jolt him. Colin is on his feet instantly, crossing the room with a quick, purposeful stride. He dips his head for a brief kiss, but I curl my fingers into his lapel and deepen it. When we finally part, he’s smiling, his eyes bright.
Mine snag on the dark-haired, green-eyed woman watching us… like she’d rather be anywhere else, yet can’t look away from me in his arms.
She’s beautiful. The kind of beauty that makes you look twice. Curves in all the right places, clothes chosen to flatter every angle. She’s just a fraction taller than I am, her breasts noticeably fuller than mine.
I smile at her and extend my hand, still tucked against Colin’s side. “I don’t think we’ve met—Cecily Montgomery.”
She approaches reluctantly, stopping near the door. Before she can speak, Colin says, “This is Maya Fisher, Margaret’s temporary replacement. Remember I mentioned her to you?”
No. He didn’t.
He’d dropped her name once, in passing, when I asked if he’d received my message. A hollow laugh echoes in my chest as another piece settles into place.
I called the office one other time, a little over a month ago, after I couldn’t reach him on his phone. When it became clear he hadn’t received my message, I let it go. I remember thinking—poor junior assistant, having to deal with someone as demanding as Colin. She must be losing her mind.
I wonder if she ever thought the same about me, while attending to his other demands.
She’s close enough now that I don’t need to inhale to recognize her perfume. It’s the same scent… an imprint I could never forget, even if I wanted to.
“Nice to meet you, Maya,” I say.
She clears her throat, forcing a smile. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Montgomery. I’ve only heard wonderful things about you.”
My stomach tightens. Nausea creeps up my throat.
Has he been talking about me with her?
“You can go, Maya. Send me those reports as soon as possible,” Colin says, authoritative, not even looking at her.
As he guides me toward the couch, I watch Maya leave. Her gaze stays fixed on us, her expression tight with displeasure.
And for the first time, I know.
I’m not imagining this anymore.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were stopping by?” Colin asks, cupping my face and drawing my attention back to him.
I keep my smile soft. “I’m having lunch with Mark. It was supposed to be farther away, but he wanted to try a new Thai place that just opened a few blocks from here.” I tilt my head slightly. “I took the opportunity to see you, it’s been so long since I’ve been at the company.”
I’d even researched the excuse beforehand. If he ever tried to verify it, the restaurant would be easy enough to find. He wouldn’t check.
I’m the one who needs to question, to retrace steps and replay moments, because doubt has already taken root.
Not him. He never had to doubt. He never would.
He smiles, kisses my fingers, tells me how glad he is that I came. Says I seem less unsettled—by the article, by my headache. I hold my smile in place until my jaw aches.
A little later, I tell him I won’t keep Mark waiting. He insists on walking me to the lobby, but his desk phone rings. I tell him to take it, kiss his cheek, and step out of his office, closing the door softly behind me.
Maya is seated at Margaret’s desk, which faces the elevator. Her posture is impeccable, spine straight, eyes fixed on the screen as her fingers move across the keyboard.
“Maya,” I say gently. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
A smile blooms across her face. She wishes me a good day, polite and perfectly rehearsed. If I hadn’t seen the look she gave me minutes earlier, I might have believed it.
I press the elevator button and clutch my purse, fingers digging into the straps to keep them from shaking. I step inside without hesitation. As the doors slide shut, my smile collapses.
I bring my fingers to my lips, fighting the instinct to scrub them clean. I don’t know what possessed me to deepen the kiss. I wonder if they…
No. I can’t go there.
How could he do this? To me. To us. I can’t quite make myself accept it, even now. And yet the thought won’t loosen its grip, his assistant wears the same perfume I smelled—and the same shade of lipstick.
God. I need to make an appointment with my doctor—urgently.
But first…
I pull my phone from my purse, my thumb trembling as I make the call.
“I need your help,” I whisper.
Maya
He doesn’t even look at me.
The second she walked in, I might as well have vanished.
Just moments ago, I’d caught him staring at my mouth. I was halfway to resting my hand on his thigh when she knocked. And now it’s as if only she exists.
As I step out of Colin’s office, I keep watching them… the way his hand lingers on her arm, the way his gaze softens, turns almost reverent. Devoted.
Barely two days ago, he was skin to skin with me, buried deep inside me, and the memory is still too close, too vivid. My body remembers before my mind has a chance to shut it down.
The door closes behind me, but her voice carries through. Soft, composed, almost regal. The sound of a perfect little housewife, chatting casually about lunch with a friend.
I sit at my desk, trembling. My hands shake so badly I can’t steady the mouse. The screen blinks—five minutes, then six—and my chest feels stretched tight, like it might split open.
He wouldn’t.
Would he?
Not in there. Not with her. Not while I’m just a door away.
This is our place.
Only ours.
She doesn’t have to do anything. She just exists—and he falls apart for her. Worships her.
Ten minutes later, she walks out smiling. Sweet. Soft. Oblivious. I return the smile, bitterness curling low in my gut. She has no idea what I take from her husband—and what I give him in return.
When she turns away, my eyes catch the diamond beside her wedding band. Pretty. Delicate. A statement.
I don’t let it get to me.
I’ll just make sure Colin ends his night in my bed.