Chapter 14
I am getting out of my Lexus in the parking lot of the supermarket when I see it.
That beige Jetta with the cracked rear fender.
It’s parked all the way down the row of cars, the engine still running. I stare at it for a moment, hoping it might be some other beige Jetta with a cracked rear fender. But then a second later, the driver’s-side door swings open, and out she trots.
Veronica.
She’s dressed casually today in a sweater and a pair of snug jeans that show off her legs for miles.
She’s easily several inches taller than me, even in sneakers.
She swings her knockoff designer purse over one shoulder, flips her jet-black hair over the other shoulder, and then starts walking in the direction of the supermarket.
There are plenty of supermarkets around here. I could get back in my car and find another one and do some Veronica-free shopping. That would probably be the smart thing to do.
And yet I find myself walking toward the store.
I pass her Jetta, and instinctively, I find myself reaching into my purse for my keys.
Back before Jeremy, I dated this software engineer who ghosted me right after I slept with him.
Keying that asshole’s BMW was one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done, and what he did to me wasn’t anywhere near as bad as what Veronica has done.
My fingers close around my key ring. I can almost feel the bronze shredding the side of her car. It will feel so good.
But then I release my grasp on the keys. Keying Veronica’s car might give me a few minutes of satisfaction, but it won’t change the fact that she stole my family. Anyway, her car is a piece of shit—the scratch might be a decorative upgrade.
So instead, I continue into the supermarket.
I don’t know what I’m doing. Really, I just need to buy some groceries, because all I’ve got in my kitchen right now are some coffee grounds and a loaf of bread.
But instead of filling my shopping cart with nutritious foods for myself and my child, I am following Veronica around the supermarket, keeping far enough behind her that she doesn’t know I’m there.
Veronica is striking enough that even wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sweater, she attracts attention as she shops.
I am most certainly not the only person watching her—I’d say about 90 percent of the men in the supermarket have given her a once-over within ten minutes of her arrival.
Either she is oblivious to the attention, or she has learned to ignore it.
I don’t know why I’m watching her. I don’t know why it matters what sort of cereal Veronica likes to eat (Cheerios) or what her favorite flavor of yogurt is (key lime) or even whether she likes white or brown eggs (brown).
But somehow, I find the whole thing fascinating.
Even more so when she picks up a pack of tampons.
Somehow, it’s comforting to know that she bleeds just like the rest of us.
I follow her around the supermarket for about twenty minutes, intermittently dropping items in my own cart when I happen to notice them nearby.
She stops at a display of ramen. She’s looking up, clearly interested in a soup on the top shelf, out of her reach.
She stretches with her right arm, trying to get to the elusive soup.
Almost immediately, a male supermarket employee passing by jumps to her rescue.
I have reached for items on high shelves in the grocery store probably hundreds of times in my life, but I have never once had anyone offer to help me, much less within a millisecond of trying to reach said item.
The clerk who helped her is even older than Jeremy and nowhere near as good-looking—not to mention he’s a supermarket clerk and not a hedge fund manager—but she is so effusive in thanking him, you would think he was…
Well, who are the handsome movie stars these days?
I don’t even know. All I know is that she makes his face turn bright red, especially when she touches his arm.
I am so fascinated by this interaction that I don’t notice I am precariously close to a display of cracker boxes.
I take a step back, and the entire tower of crackers sways and then topples over quite spectacularly.
Boxes split open, and crackers spill onto the floor, fanning out around my feet.
The sound is loud enough that I swear the entire supermarket goes completely silent for a full ten seconds.
Naturally, both Veronica and the clerk who has been helping her look in my direction. Veronica’s eyes fly open wide as she recognizes me. The clerk, on the other hand, looks less than enthusiastic as he stomps over to the mess I made.
“Now I gotta clean all this up,” he grumbles. “Next time, be more careful, will ya?”
He flashes me a dirty look. I’m sure if Veronica knocked over the tower of snacks, he would happily pick it up and then reshape it into an altar in her honor. But instead, he just mutters under his breath as he restocks the cracker boxes.
Veronica moves her cart in my direction, a pleasant though slightly wary look in her eyes. “Naomi, is it?”
I try to make my face blank. “I’m sorry… Have we met?”
I’m sure she knows I’m lying, but she keeps that pleasant smile plastered on her face. “My name is Veronica,” she says. “We met the other night. At Jeremy’s house?”
“Oh.” I tap my forehead as if my memory is being jogged. “You mean at my house.”
Veronica does not take the bait. She just keeps smiling, and I have to admire how pretty she looks, even though she doesn’t appear to be wearing much makeup. Or any at all. She’s just naturally gorgeous, I guess. Oh my God, I hate her so much.
“Look,” she says, “I feel like we got off to a bad start the other day. And I really don’t want that.”
I don’t bother to hide my eye roll. “Oh?”
“Yes.” She nods. “We should be on good terms if we’re going to be co-parenting Teddy.”
I stare at her, incensed by her nerve. “We are not going to be co-parenting Teddy. Jeremy and I are going to be co-parenting Teddy, as we have been doing for the last five years.”
“Yes,” she says, “but eventually, I’ll be spending time with him as well. Maybe even more than you do!”
She flips her long hair over her shoulder, and I am seized by the almost irrepressible urge to hack off all those luscious raven locks. I wonder what aisle the scissors are in.
“Listen to me, Veronica,” I hiss at her, low enough that the heroic clerk still stacking crackers can’t hear me.
“I obviously don’t know all the details of how you tricked my husband into sleeping with you, but you have to understand that Jeremy and I have a connection that the two of you will never have.
We’re married. We have a child together.
You’re just…” I wave a hand in disgust at her tight little body.
“You’re eye candy. He’ll be bored of you in a few weeks. ”
I was hoping my comments might shake her confidence or make her doubt whether what she has with my husband is real. But instead, her lips curl like she’s terribly amused by the whole thing.
“Oh, Naomi,” she sighs. “I feel awful about the situation. I honestly do.”
“Do you?”
“Of course!” She starts to reach out to touch my arm but then thinks better of it. Smart girl. “I’m not a bad person—really. Jeremy and I just…we fell in love. You can’t choose who you fall in love with.”
“Actually,” I say, “it feels like you can choose not to fall in love with a married man.”
“We can’t help it.” She clasps a hand to her chest. “We just have such a deep connection!”
God, I hate her.
But at the same time, something about this conversation feels off to me.
Well, besides the fact that another woman is telling me she’s in love with my husband.
When Jeremy told me the other night that he was in love with Veronica, it was obvious from the look on his face that he meant it.
But here is Veronica telling me that she and my husband are so deeply in love, and there’s no love in her eyes.
All I see on her face is a cold, calculating expression, well masked by a practiced pleasantness and her natural beauty.
Veronica isn’t deeply in love with my husband. She doesn’t love him at all.
I would bet anything on it.
“Hey, lady!”
The clerk’s voice jars me out of my thoughts. He’s holding up a box of crackers, which he shakes in my face.
“What is it?” I snap at him.
He shakes the crackers again. “These broke open when you knocked them over. Now you gotta buy them.”
I definitely don’t want these stupid crackers, but I don’t feel like arguing with this clerk, who is already exchanging conspiratorial looks with Veronica.
I’m sure she’ll tell Jeremy about our little interaction today, and I don’t need the story to involve me getting into a shouting match with a grocery store clerk.
So I take the crackers and drop them into my basket next to the fruit.
“You should be careful with those grapes,” Veronica tells me, flipping her hair over her shoulder again. “They’re a choking hazard.”
“I always cut up grapes before I give them to Teddy.”
She gives me a meaningful look. “I’m not talking about Teddy.”
A shiver goes through me. It occurs to me that if I weren’t around, there would be absolutely no one to stop Veronica from getting whatever she wants from my husband. I can’t help but think how convenient it would be for her if I kicked the bucket.
I take a shaky breath. “Veronica,” I say, “I…I’m begging you. Find some other guy. Someone who isn’t married and… Just anyone else. Please. Please don’t take my family away from me.”
I watch Veronica’s face, hoping my impassioned speech has gotten through to her. Even if she went after my husband for his huge bankroll, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a shred of compassion in her body. She has to understand that she’s ripping my family apart. This is not a victimless crime.
But I can see from her eyes that she truly does not care. There’s no compassion there. Not even a flicker. And all the while, she keeps smiling at me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “but they’re my family now too. And I don’t think you’re going to be very happy if you try to get in our way.”
And then she walks away with her key lime yogurt and brown eggs and not even one box of crackers.
That’s it. I’m going to that lawyer Cora recommended, and I’m going to fight back.