CHAPTER ELEVEN
Carrie
I woke up and stretched. I’d slept like a rock.
I felt the sheets on Thatcher’s side of the bed.
Cold. He’d been gone for a while. I sighed.
He was probably already at work. I reached for my phone, taking it off its charger.
He’d sent me a text after midnight the night before to let me know he was on his way.
But this morning? No texts. No words of encouragement about the ball tonight.
No more apologies for the previous evening. Story of my life lately.
I ate some toast, brushed my teeth, and pulled on some old jeans and a T-shirt with holes in it. I pulled my hair in a messy bun as I walked out the door, and I was good to go. It was time to work until every last detail had been taken care of.
Thoughts of Thatcher, our marriage, and stupid Mads would just have to wait.
I worked at the country club most of the day, making sure all décor had survived the night.
I shored up whatever needed tightening or straightening.
Then I moved on to the auction. I double and triple checked all the items. I was beginning to think I had developed some OCD symptoms over the course of preparing for this event.
It was getting late in the day when I glanced at the clock and realized that unless I wanted to greet people in jeans and a T-shirt, I had to get moving.
Time for the Orchid Ball had arrived whether I was ready or not.
But I’d worked my ass off, and I felt good about all I’d accomplished.
I looked around one last time before heading home to get dressed.
My helpers and I had successfully turned the boring old Indigo Falls Country Club into a dreamy New Orleans nightscape.
The decorations were perfect, the plants were spot on, and the atmosphere was just right.
I’d gone for elegant, luxurious, and just a tad bit mysterious.
I’d hidden fog machines behind some plants.
They were small enough that they’d let out just enough fog to provide a ‘haunted’ ambiance without causing anyone’s hair to frizz.
It was going to be perfect. The caterers were ready, the bar was over stocked and well-staffed, the auction items were ready to go, and the band was scheduled to arrive an hour ahead of when I needed them. I’d found out they were great but had a reputation for being late.
I took a deep breath and hoped everything went off without a hitch.
And on a personal level, I hoped my husband arrived on time as promised.
As I drove home, I tried to push off my mounting anger and frustration over everything I’d learned about Thatcher recently.
I didn’t have a good feeling about our marriage going forward.
But I’d given myself until at least after the ball and maybe the launch party to make a decision.
And I couldn’t think about that now. I had to focus on tonight.
I pulled into the driveway and immediately had a sense of foreboding. Thatcher wasn’t here. It was past five. He had promised he’d be here by now. I sat in the car and closed my eyes. “Please don’t do this to me again, Thatcher,” I whispered.
I got out of the car and made my way inside to get ready. My mother’s car was in the driveway as well as that of her long-time hairdresser, Wendy. She’d asked her to come by and give us both an elegant updo for the evening.
I laughed and talked with Mom and Wendy while she did our hair. Mom left, dropping a kiss on my cheek. “Thatcher’s coming, right hon?”
“Of course,” I said with way more conviction than I felt. I pretended not to notice the worry and doubt in Mom’s eyes.
“Alright, sweetie. See you at the club. I can’t wait for tonight. I know it’s going to be just perfect.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I put my makeup on and slipped into my wine-red ballgown.
It had a black lace overlay, and I thought it had the perfect mix of elegant for the event while being a little creepy for Halloween.
It was after six now. Thatcher was more than an hour late.
My hands shook as I picked up my phone to text him.
Me: Are you almost here? I need to leave for the club in about twenty minutes. I really wanted us to arrive together.
I waited, but there was no response. It didn’t show that it had been read, either.
Five minutes later, I called. “Thatch, I hope you’re on your way. I won’t be able to wait on you much longer before going to the club by myself. I really wanted us to arrive together. Please call me or text me and let me know what’s going on.”
I waited five more minutes, but he didn’t call me back. I shook my head in disbelief. I didn’t even know why I was surprised anymore.
Me: I’m going to the ball by myself. I hope whatever you’re doing is worth it, Thatch.
Somehow, I knew it wasn’t.
***
“This is fabulous!” another couple exclaimed on their way inside the country club. I smiled and said everything I was supposed to, but I felt as if I was an actor performing lines.
No matter how many people told me I’d done a great job or that it was the best Orchid Ball in years, the one person I wanted to hear it from wasn’t there.
He wasn’t late. He hadn’t texted to say he was sorry or that he was on his way.
No, the later it got, the more I realized that he just wasn’t going to come. And he was completely inconsiderate. No texts. No voicemails. Just… nothing.
I’d thought it was embarrassing to walk in on my own, but that was nothing compared to having to come up with excuses all night for why Thatcher wasn’t there.
I swear, every single person in the damn ball had asked where he was.
I didn’t even know they all knew his name.
I was beyond relieved when Melinda, Sadie, Blair, and Natalie all ran interference for me and spread the word that Thatcher wasn’t at the ball due to a last-minute emergency at work.
I knew nobody believed it, but at least they smiled and pretended to.
Thankfully, after the first hour or so, everyone focused on the decorations, the dancing, the food, and the items up for bid in the auction.
My mom and dad were pissed. “You mean to tell me he’s not coming?” Mom was incredulous. She kept looking towards the entrance and the bathrooms as if Thatcher was going to magically pop out and smooth everything over.
“Where the hell is he?” Dad asked.
I had a couple of guesses, but I didn’t want to traumatize my father too much.
“I think I need a good divorce lawyer, Dad,” I whispered, not wanting my mom to hear me.
No one in my family had ever gotten a divorce—not even the extended family of cousins, great aunts, etc.
The scandal would crush her. But she was just going to have to be crushed.
I wasn’t willing to stay with someone who thought of me as second best, or just an adequate replacement until the woman he’d really loved returned to him.
I doubt I would’ve ever married him if I’d known I was a rebound.
And more and more, that’s what I believed I was to him.
Now his first love was back, and he was done with me.
It hurt terribly, but there was no use sugar coating it.
Dad looked at me sharply. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’m not quite ready to file yet. I’m going to ask him to go to counseling first, but I have the feeling he’s going to say no. I’d like to meet with an attorney to find out my options.”
“Okay.” He gave me a hug. “I’m so sorry, baby. I thought he was your forever guy.”
I felt tears coming on, waved my hands in front of my eyes, and said, “Don’t. I’m going to cry, and I can’t break down right now.”
“You’re right.” He stood back and held me at arm’s length. “You look gorgeous. You’ve worked so hard to make this night incredible. He’s a goddamn fool, Carrie. But you need to put him out of your mind and enjoy what you created.”
I smiled, starting to feel a bit better. “It does look good, doesn’t it?”
“It’s better than good. I feel like I’m actually in the Garden District. Go have fun. Dance with handsome men. Laugh with your friends. You deserve to have an amazing night.”
He was right. I wasn’t going to stand here crying over Thatcher when I’d poured my heart and soul into making the Orchid Ball perfect. I looked around and saw that Tim wasn’t dancing with anyone.
I wasn’t interested in him romantically; he was Sadie’s little brother, and that’s who he’d always be to me. But he was good-looking, hilarious, and thought of me like another big sister.
“Care to dance?” I asked as I walked up to him.
He looked startled for a moment before he put down his glass, gave me a ridiculous bow, and said, “Why, of course my dear.”
I laughed as he pulled me into his arms and spun me out on the dance floor. “What was that?”
He looked mock offended. “You couldn’t tell I was trying to have the accent of a vampire from New Orleans? Clearly, I need to practice more.”
We danced together a few times that night, and I was just as interested in having a good time as I was observing how often Tim stared at Natalie with Heath Reyes.
It was quite entertaining. Something told me Tim had finally realized he had feelings for his best friend.
It just took her falling for someone else for him to wake up and see it.
I filed that bit of information away to talk to Sadie about later.
The night flew by. I danced with all my friends’ husbands as well as some single men. I flirted like I hadn’t since I’d first started dating Thatcher. It felt good, like exercising an underused muscle.
And it gave me hope for the future. I wasn’t planning on divorcing Thatcher and getting right back in the dating game by any means. But it was nice to know he hadn’t broken that part of me.
Later, as I was driving home, I started to feel more relaxed than I had in several months. The weight of the Orchid Ball was off my shoulders, and I could just focus on what to do about my marriage. I needed to see if it could be repaired, or if it was hopelessly broken.
And that’s if Thatcher even wanted to stay together. I bit my lip. For all I knew, he already had divorce papers drawn up to give me.
I slowed down as I reached our driveway, my mouth agape. Thatcher’s car still wasn’t in the driveway. It was past midnight! Where the hell was he? I checked my phone for about the millionth time, but there were still no messages from him.
A wave of fury like I’d never felt before rushed through me. Instead of turning into the driveway, I turned around and left the neighborhood. I was driving to his office to see what the hell was going on.
I knew I’d have to steel myself for what I might find when I got there, but I didn’t think I had a choice anymore.
I needed to know the full, harsh truth of what exactly my husband was up to.