Chapter 9
Stella
H is gaze is fixed on our joined hands.
I wonder if my hand feels cold to him or if it’s only cold on the inside.
“When I was a young man, I was full of myself, especially as my career took off and fame set in.”
“I’ve never known you to be full of yourself.”
“I’d learned a few hard lessons by the time we met.”
“What lessons?”
“It’s mortifying to even think about it now, let alone talk about.”
“I still want to know. I want all the details, even the ones you’d rather not share. I think you owe me that much.”
“I owe you everything, Stel. Every single good thing in my life is because of you.”
I stare at him, letting him know I’m not letting this go. Whatever he’s ashamed of, whatever might go public in that freaking book of hers… I want to know.
After a long pause in which he can’t seem to look at me, he takes another deep breath and releases it in an anguished-sounding sigh. “Back in the day, when I was young and dumb, I dabbled in what some would call… kinky sex.”
Nothing he could’ve said would’ve surprised me more than that. “What does that mean?” I barely get the words out around the astonishment.
“I liked it a little rough. I was a, um, a Dominant. I was into light bondage, toys, denying pleasure to my partner until she was begging for it. That kind of thing.”
His words land like knives to my heart. I have more questions than answers after hearing this, and I don’t know where to begin.
I pull my hand back from him. “Did I ever really know you?” That’s the only question I can form and the only one that really matters when it comes right down to it.
“ Yes . God yes. You know me better than anyone ever has.”
“Not as well as Vivian knew you, apparently.”
He shakes his head. “She knew a fraction of what you do.”
“I take it you practiced this so-called kinky sex with her.”
His cheeks flush with color, which happens so rarely it’s astounding to me. “Yes.”
“I’m afraid I might be sick.”
Max jumps up, grabs a bowl off the counter and brings it to me just as his phone rings. He glances at the screen. “That’s Corbin about the NDA.”
“Jeez, even he knows?”
“I need his help to access the records, if they even still exist.”
“Take the call.”
I notice his hand is shaky as he reaches for the phone and puts it on speaker so I can hear, too, which I appreciate. “Corbin. Thanks for returning my call.”
“Of course. My assistant just handed me the new issue of People with you and Stella on the cover. What a gorgeous photo of you two, not that you guys ever take a bad picture. Happy anniversary, my friends.”
“Thank you.”
I drop my head into my hands when I hear the magazine is out. Another thing we were so excited about has been tainted by this nightmare.
“You two are the benchmark in every way.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“What can I do for you, pal?”
“It’s a very delicate matter.”
“Most of them are.”
“And highly confidential.”
“I’m a lawyer, Max. Anything we discuss is confidential.”
“I have something I need you to handle personally for me. No delegating to anyone, even one of your sons.”
“I’ll do whatever I can for you, my friend. You should know that by now.”
“This is nuclear, Corbin.”
“And it shall be handled as such.”
“Before I met Stella…”
Saying these words out loud, even to a friend, is killing him. That’s plainly obvious, and it doesn’t bring me any pleasure to see him in such distress. That’s how much I love him.
“I was married to Vivian Stevens for eight months.”
Corbin lets out a low whistle. “Holy bombshell, Batman. How’d you keep that under wraps all this time?”
“Through an NDA your dad had her sign as part of our divorce settlement. Now there’s a memoir coming, and I’m told that NDA could halt publication of the book if my name is mentioned.”
“Sure as hell could.”
“Your dad kept all the files. I need a copy of the NDA if it still exists.”
“We don’t destroy any records. We’ve got a whole floor of our building devoted to archives.”
Max releases a deep breath full of relief as he returns to his seat. “How hard would it be to put your hand on that document?”
“It might take a little longer if I do it myself, but I know where to look. I’ll get right on it and call you back as soon as I have something to report.”
“I appreciate this very much, and I’m sorry to interrupt your day this way.”
“Think nothing of it. What’re old friends for if not for something like this? I’ll be back in touch shortly.”
After the line goes dead, Max glances at me. “Well, that’s one piece of good news.”
“If he can find it.”
“I’m sure he will. His father was meticulous and saw to every detail, just like Corbin.”
“And Kate.”
“Yes, and Kate.”
Corbin’s ex-wife runs the other Remington law firm, in partnership with their three daughters and two of her nieces, while their six sons work with Corbin. The two firms often face off against each other in some of the most contentious Hollywood divorces.
“Anyway,” I say, “back to what we were talking about before he called.”
Max stands so abruptly, he knocks over the chair, which crashes to the floor, rattling my nerves even further. He bends to pick it up. “I need some air. Let’s go outside.”
Max
I cannot believe I have to talk about this shit with Stella, of all people. I feel like I’m disrespecting her with every word I say as I head outside to our gorgeous pool deck, where the palms sway softly in the breeze of a lovely Southern California day.
She follows me, bringing the bowl.
I’m making her sick, which is not at all how I’d hoped to spend this momentous day.
As I run my fingers through my hair, I remember our plans for the day. “What’re we doing about the spa appointment?”
“I canceled it this morning. I paid for it and gave them a hefty tip.”
Which is code for I paid them not to tell anyone we canceled on our anniversary .
“I also canceled the lunch reservation but kept the plan at Frankie’s for later. The grandkids wouldn’t understand if we cancel that.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
“And the party is still on for tomorrow. Too late to cancel that at this point, without having the whole town talking about us.”
“I’m very sorry about all this, especially the timing of it when we should be celebrating.”
“I know you’re sorry, and I want to accept your apology and move past this, but I’m having a heck of a time wrapping my head around you keeping it from me for all this time.”
He drops into a seat next to mine and looks over at me. “Was there any time in the last fifty-two years that would’ve been a good time to tell you this?”
I can’t help but smile at the expression on his face when he says that—and he makes a good point. “Probably not.”
“Would I have had a snowball’s chance in hell with you if I mentioned, say, the first week or so we were together, ‘By the way, Stel, I was once married to the woman you despise who helped to ruin your career’? The first career anyway.”
“No, you wouldn’t. The snowball would’ve melted under the heat of my fury.”
“Exactly. In all our years together, you’ve never disliked anyone the way you do her, and there was never a time to slide that into the conversation with you.” He turns in his seat so he’s facing me. “I want you to know that I hated keeping it from you. It felt wrong to me from the start, but I’ve been so damned happy with you. From the get-go… Happy like I’d never been. The thought of doing anything to mess with that was unimaginable. And then, as the years rolled on, I never thought about it anymore. What did it matter in the grand scheme of things?”
“Tell me about the kinky stuff.”
“Do I have to?”
I give him the look wives have been giving husbands since the beginning of time. He told me once that look makes his balls shrivel. I hope that’s the case now, too.
He sighs, seeming to resign himself to coming clean about something he’d much rather never talk about, especially with me. “It was a phase, a short-lived one at that. Some guys I hung out with back in the day were into it, they introduced me to it, and I enjoyed it. Until I didn’t.”
“What did you enjoy about it?” she asks with shyness that’s unusual between us.
But I suppose it’s to be expected, since it’s not every day I talk to my wife of fifty years about my past interest in kinky sex.
“I liked the taboo of it, although it’s hardly taboo these days. It’s much more mainstream than it was then. I enjoyed the explicit communication with a partner about what would happen in a scene. Everything is agreed to ahead of time, so there’re no surprises. I found that to be intriguing. I liked delaying gratification for myself and my partner, and the toys were always fun.”
“So you liked it a lot.”
“I did. For a time.”
“What changed?”
“Vivian wasn’t into it. She said I was a sick fuck, she wasn’t submissive to anyone, and at the time, I thought I needed it, so it made us incompatible in the long run.”
“Like what happened with Flynn and Valerie.”
I’m stunned. “How do you know that?”
“I’m a mother. I pay attention.”
“So you know…”
“About him and the others? Yes, I’ve known for a long time.”
“ How? ”
“Vibes I’ve picked up on, snatches of conversations I wasn’t supposed to hear. I worried terribly about how Natalie would handle it in light of her past, but they’re so happy together. They obviously figured it out.”
“The first I heard of it with him was yesterday.”
“When you told him you used to be kinky before you met me and settled into vanilla monogamy?”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I’d given up the kink at least a year before we met. The thrill was gone.”
“And you’ve never wanted it again?”
“No, I haven’t.” I reach for her hand. “What I’ve wanted is everything I’ve had with you. In all these years, I haven’t had one minute of discontentment with the woman I chose to spend my life with. I haven’t ever looked at someone else’s life and thought, ‘Hey, he’s got it better than me,’ because no one does. I’ve always known how lucky I am to be with you.” I kiss the back of her hand. “This, you and me, and our family… It’s everything to me.”
“It’s everything to me, too.”
I want to ask her if we’re okay now, if we can move past the last twenty-four hours or if there’s more she wants to talk about. But I’m afraid to mess with the fragile feeling of accord we’ve achieved over the last hour.
As the silence stretches on, I find it increasingly distressing. Not that we aren’t capable of companionable silence, but nothing about this is normal. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “So what now? Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know.”
That’s as upsetting as anything else that’s happened during this surreal event. Stella always knows what to do. In fact, it’s something I’ve come to count on during our life together. Any time I don’t know the answers, I turn to her, because she has them. That she doesn’t know is deeply unsettling.
My stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, which serves to break the tension somewhat as she smiles at me.
“You should eat something so your blood sugar doesn’t act up.”
She’s right, as usual, but I’m still so churned up that I’m not sure I could eat.
When she gets up to go inside, I follow her. I don’t know what else to do, and as usual, I want to be wherever she is.
In the kitchen, she makes me a sandwich from the leftover tenderloin Ada made for us the other night. “Where’s Ada today?”
“On vacation, remember? We’re not going to be here, so we told her to take the time off.”
“That’s right. Are we still going? To Utah and Mexico?”
She puts a plate on the table in front of me. In addition to the sandwich, she’s added my favorite dill pickles and a few chips. “Of course we are. I wouldn’t miss that time with the family for anything.” She sits in her seat, bringing her own plate. “Eat. We don’t need a trip to the ER on top of everything else.”
The first bite goes down okay, so I take another. “Thank you for the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome.”
It’s all so polite and weird and so removed from our usual casual vibe as to be painful in the differences. But what did I think would happen when she found out I’d kept a first wife secret from her for our entire lives, especially considering who that first wife was?
In truth, I never expected to ever have to tell her about Vivian. And yes, I would’ve gone to my final reward and taken that secret with me if it meant not hurting the person I love best with information that didn’t matter. I still say it doesn’t matter.
My phone rings, startling us both.
I withdraw it from my pocket. “It’s Flynn.”
“Take it. He’ll want to know if we’re on for dinner.”
I put the phone on speaker. “Hey, son.”
“Hey yourself. What’s going on over there?”
“Having a bite of lunch with your mother.”
“Oh. Okay. Are you guys doing all right?”
I glance at Stella, hoping she’ll reply for us.
“We are,” she says.
Those two little words mean the world to me, and apparently to our son, too, as he exhales an audible sigh of relief.
“Glad to hear it,” Flynn says. “The girls and I are hoping we’re still on for tonight.”
Again, I look to Stella to confirm.
“We’re looking forward to seeing you all.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you,” she says. “We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“We’ll be there. We love you both.”
“We love you, too,” I tell him.
“See you soon.”
I end the call and glance at her. “What a kid.” We say that all the time about him and the girls.
“What a kid, indeed.”
I’m surprised I’m able to eat the entire sandwich as well as the chips and pickles and that I feel a thousand times better afterward, only because she’s still here, still sitting across from me, still talking to me.
We’re not out of the woods by a long shot, but we’re still in the woods, and we’re there together, which is all that matters.