Chapter 28
Thalia
“WE HAVE TO stay together for a few more weeks,” Carey announced at supper. We haven't done something like this in a long while. Eat together in private. It was always at a restaurant and in full view of the public. But tonight Carey had the private chef cook us a Michelin star level meal and left as soon as she was done. Carey was the one who served the meal while I sat at the table wondering what the reason for the fuss could be.
“We have to?” I knew he was going to find some way to sabotage the proceedings. He hated that I was the one who ditched him first and not the other way round. He has been extra salty ever since I presented the divorce papers.
Carey stabbed his fork into the circle shaped lamb chop on his plate. “Trust me, I don’t want this any more than you do, but we have to do it.” He took a sip of his wine as though the next words he was about to say were difficult. Every time I noticed his disdain for me, my path for divorce becomes more clear. “Nolan wants us to convince the Bardwells to sell their business to Hawthorne.”
“Arther and Mae want to sell their company? What’s that got to do with me?”
“Well,” he exhaled, “Mae and Arther are coming to New York and we’re supposed to entertain them. Make them happy, make them want to sell the company at the end of it.”
A few more weeks of pretending to be in love with Carey? It was a bad idea. The first time we had to do this was with that same couple. They were a sweet couple and were nice enough to keep in touch with us for the next years. Mae and I developed a good friendship and we would communicate a lot on the socials. Pretending once more to be in love wasn’t as appealing as it used to be. At least then I thought I loved Carey and I would use the pretense to fool myself into a make believe world that doesn’t exist. One were I loved him and he loved me back. That’s what made it tolerable. But I was not in love with him anymore. Any play pretend would be horrible to endure.
“I can’t. Can’t you entertain them on your own?”
“Nolan wants a couple, I am afraid.”
“Why don’t you ask Gemma,” I blurted out and immediately regretted it. I’ve never revealed that I knew about his mistress and now I felt like I had lost a valuable card.
He frowned. “Well, Gemma is not my wife, and she doesn’t have a relationship with Mae.”
“I’m sorry but I can’t do it.”
Carey's cutlery cluttered onto the plate. “Do you think I want this? I’ve been itching to be out of this relationship just as much as you. Can we at least do this thing and then we could finally be on our way? I am not holding the divorce above your head. I want it too. Will you please do this for me?”
My heart skipped a beat. My own fork slipped through my fingers. He has never said that word before. In all our five years of marriage, he has tried his best to not ask me for anything, let alone plead. “Why can’t Nolan convince them himself?” I asked.
“Mae and Arther are a little precious with their company. They want to sell it to someone they feel will take good care of it. I am sure my brother will, but he doesn’t think he can convince them. That’s where we come in.”
“The seducers.”
He picked up his glass and tilted it towards me. “Exactly. If you do this, I will not fight you in the divorce, like I was planning to.”
That took me by surprise. “You were planning to fight me?”
“I am a lawyer, Thalia. Of course, I wanted a fight. But I'm willing to let it go, if you agree to this. I can pay you for your troubles.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Only my father’s, apparently.”
The glare I gave him was enough for him to drop the subject and turn his attention back to his food. I had barely touched mine and now that I learned I was going to be in his presence for a few more weeks, my appetite further shrank. How was going to handle being around him when I have just patched my confidence back together again?
“If you continue with the barbs, I will leave," I said after a long silence. "I am only agreeing to this because I care about your brother and actually don’t mind being in the company of the Bardwells."
He jerked his head up and stopped chewing. His gaze was hot and scrutinizing. I held my ground as I waited for him to return with another barb. That was always how our relationship worked. He says something mean to me. I retaliate or cower. I have never put a stop to it until this dinner. He nods so slightly that I almost miss it.
My appetite returns as I feel better about myself, and we finish the supper in silence. After we’re done, he offers to do the dishes and I go to my room. I don’t think I can stand to be in the same room with him longer than necessary without making a fool of myself or showing that I am not as strong as I was pretending to be. As soon as I finish my nightly routine, I send a text to Darcy.
“I am no longer coming tomorrow. The marriage has been extended by a couple of weeks.”
Darcy doesn’t respond immediately, and it’s only after I’ve gotten ten pages into the paperback I am reading do I hear my phone ring.
“Are his pussy eating skills that good?” she responds.
I chuckle to myself. They were that good, but Carey would never use them to persuade him not to divorce him. I can count on my fingers the number of times we’ve had sex in our marriage and they were less than five.
“He needs help with family business, that’s all.”
Darcy responds sooner this time. “ Is that what he says?”
“It’s not what you think. He told me over what can be best be described as a business dinner. All formal with none of the heat.”
Well the last part wasn’t true. I did feel hot every time he cast a glance my way. That was how it always was when it came to him. Even when he was being colder than an iceberg, I would always feel like he was melting me only with his eyes. Five years later in a dead marriage and he still had the ability to make my groin clench with just a look. At least now I knew it was just physical attraction and not love.
“You should have thrown the plate in his face and flipped the table like a Real Housewife.” I chuckled. She sent another text. “On the bright side, maybe this will give you time to reconsider your nonsensical terms.”
I was about to reply that there was no way in hell I was going to change when the door to my room crashed open. Carey sauntered in. “Who are you talking to?”
I felt my eyes narrow. He has never once cared what was going on in my life.“None of your business,” I said, putting the phone down on my bed beside me and picking up my paperback. I tried to act nonchalant about the fact that he had crossed a threshold he deemed unholy.
“Whatever. We will be meeting the Bardwells on the weekend and then we will go to Nantucket together.”
He folded his arms as though waiting for a fight. He looked like a formidable force in his cream cashmere sweater and her black slacks. My heart raced as my gaze lingered on his bulging biceps and unable to utter a word without betraying my wayward thoughts, I nodded.
“Good,” he said and left.
I hated Nantucket. Not that there was anything wrong with the place, but it was his domain. It was were he carried his affair with Gemma. I didn’t know it for a fact, but I didn’t need to do any deep digging to know that it was true. He would go there every weekend and when he came back, he had that flushed freshly fucked look that betrayed any cheating husband. Only it’s not cheating in his case when we’re in an open marriage. It still ground my gears nonetheless. An irrational part of me said he was my husband. I wanted him to myself even though he hated me.