Chapter 61
Yes,” Joni admitted at last. “I did.”
Liz covered her face with her hands. Her chest felt like it was caving in.
Joni was talking, apologizing, but Liz wasn’t listening, because all she could picture was Joni fucking her husband.
Her brain lurched. The trial separation: It was my idea.
I wanted it. Suggested it. She had thought it was on her terms. That it was a good idea.
She had diagnosed a problem in their marriage, so she’d put on her GP hat and—after much talking, because good communication was part of their strength—she’d suggested a trial separation.
When he’d said it sounded like a good idea, she’d experienced a deep, profound ache in her heart, as if something were tearing.
She told herself that it would be fine. It could be a good thing, in fact, because once they were apart, he’d be forced to imagine his life without her—and then they could come back together stronger, prepared to fight.
But now everything looked different.
Joni Gold.
On their first night at the lodge, she’d come across Joni on the phone down by the lake. She’d been speaking in a low voice, and when she’d seen Liz, her face had paled and she’d whispered to the caller, “I need to go.”
She’d told Liz it was Kai.
But it had been Patrick.
Liz started to shake. She could feel a tingling in her fingertips. She suddenly felt deeply exposed, separated physically from her family. She’d left them—and a wolf had gotten in.
She imagined Joni sitting at her breakfast bar, the twins grinning at her, Patrick smiling by the stove, waiting for the coffee to brew.
“What do you want? My husband? My family?”
“No! I’d never do that to you!”
“Yet you’d sleep with Patrick! Send him messages when we’re on a trial separation!”
Joni pressed her teeth into her lower lip.
“Of all the men, Joni. Of all the men!” Throughout their school years, Liz had watched in awe as the boys gravitated toward Joni.
She radiated magnetism with her infectious, deep laugh, and the way she’d say something completely surprising that caught you off guard, or how she dressed without a care for what anyone thought.
Liz was familiar with the feeling of being passed over, so when Patrick kissed her—chose her!
—Liz realized that the other boys no longer mattered because she had Patrick.
Liz said, “You can have anyone you want, Joni. Anyone! Why Patrick?”
Joni took a breath. “I thought I was in love with him.”
“Love?” Liz hissed through her teeth. “Don’t you dare use that word! It’s not some song, Joni! This is my life!”
Liz took a step closer to her. A visceral, muscular rage made her body quiver. She saw the whites of Joni’s eyes, the way she widened them with the shock of realizing how near the edge she was.
Liz thought of her husband, of her children, of how their family would be ripped apart. Red-hot fury heated her blood. Her hands shook as she raised them.
Her fingers gripped the fabric of Joni’s coat. Her rage turned blinding white, and in that moment, there were no thoughts, just a soaring, scorching fury, and she leaned in.