5. Delphine #2
“He’s with Kendall now,” Montana continued, her voice soft and relentless. “He’s been with her for months. Planning their future together. The future they should have had all along, before you inserted yourself where you didn’t belong.”
“You’re lying.” The words came out weak, unconvincing.
“Am I?” Montana’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise.
“Then why has he spent every spare moment with her since she arrived? Why does he light up when she walks into a room in a way he never does for you? Why are they planning to move to Europe together, to build the new branch of the firm that will finally free him from this sad little life you’ve trapped him in? ”
The text message flashed through my mind. Europe. Us together.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, but my voice was cracking now, the facade I had been maintaining beginning to crumble.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” Montana stepped closer still, so close I could see the tiny lines around her eyes that her makeup couldn’t quite hide.
“I know that my son has finally come to his senses. I know that Kendall understands this world, this life, in a way you never could. I know that she’s always been the one he was supposed to be with, and that your little interlude is finally coming to an end. ”
Tears were burning in my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to give her the satisfaction.
“You’re wrong. Heath loves me. We’re married.”
“Marriages end, dear.” Montana’s smile widened. “Especially marriages that were never meant to happen in the first place. Tell me, how long has it been since he touched you? How long since he looked at you like you were anything other than an obligation?”
I couldn’t answer. The truth was lodged in my throat like a stone.
“That’s what I thought.” Montana reached out and rested one manicured finger on the lid of the gold box, light as a landing insect. My last desperate hope, under her hand. “And what a lovely little box. Another pathetic attempt to hold on to what’s already gone?”
“Put that down.” My voice was stronger now, steadied by a surge of anger. “That’s mine.”
“Nothing in this house is yours, Delphine. Nothing ever was.” But she set the gift back down, her point made.
“I’m telling you this as a kindness, believe it or not.
So that you can prepare yourself for what’s coming.
So that you can make arrangements, find somewhere else to go.
Because when Heath finally works up the courage to tell you what we all already know, I want you out of this house within the hour. ”
“This is my home.”
“This is my family’s home.” Montana’s voice went sharp, cutting. “It’s been ours for generations. You were just a visitor. An unwanted one, at that.”
The tears were falling now. I couldn’t stop them. I hated myself for the weakness, but the pain was too much to contain.
“And one more thing.” Montana leaned in close, so close that I could see the cruelty gleaming in her eyes.
Her gaze flicked down to the gold box, to the lid I had shut too late, and back up to my face.
“Two lines, dear. I have excellent eyesight and I’ve been waiting nine years to use it.
Don’t bother trying to trap him with it.
We both know there’s no guarantee that baby is even his. ”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I actually stepped backward, my hip hitting the counter, my hand flying to my stomach in an instinctive protective gesture.
“How dare you.” My voice came out as a whisper, raw and broken. “How dare you suggest-”
“I dare because someone needs to say it.” Montana straightened, smoothing down her gown with elegant fingers. “Heath was distant and distracted long before I arrived. Who knows what you were doing during all those lonely nights? Who knows who else you might have been seeing?”
“I’ve never been unfaithful to my husband. Never. Not once.”
“Perhaps. But can you prove it? Can you prove that the child you’re carrying belongs to a man who hasn’t shared your bed in months?”
I wanted to hit her. I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until that horrible smile disappeared forever. The violence of the impulse shocked me, but not as much as the effort it took to hold myself back.
“Get out,” I said. “Get out of my kitchen.”
“Your kitchen.” Montana laughed, a cold sound that echoed off the tiles. “You still don’t understand, do you? None of this was ever yours. It was just borrowed. And the loan is about to come due.”
She turned and walked toward the door, her gown swishing against the floor, her head held high. At the threshold, she paused and looked back over her shoulder.
“Enjoy the gala tonight, Delphine. It’ll be your last as a Fairchild.”
Then she was gone, and I was alone in the kitchen with the wreckage of everything I had believed.
I stood there for a beat, unable to move. The tears were streaming down my face now, dripping off my chin, and I couldn’t find the strength to wipe them away.
Was it true? Was any of it true? Had Heath really been with Kendall all this time, planning a future that didn’t include me, waiting for the right moment to cast me aside?
I didn’t want to believe it. I had spent thirteen days telling myself that my fears were unfounded, that my husband still loved me, that we could find our way back to each other.
But Montana’s words had been so certain. So specific. So carefully crafted to tear me apart.
She knows things, a small voice whispered in my head. She knows about the pregnancy, about Europe, about Heath and Kendall. She couldn’t have made all of it up.
I pressed my hands over my face and sobbed, great heaving sobs that shook every muscle I had. I didn’t care anymore if anyone heard. I didn’t care about anything except the pain that was tearing through my chest, worse than anything I had ever felt.
After a long time, the sobs subsided. I lowered my hands and looked around the kitchen, at the gifts I had been wrapping, at the gold box that held my last hope for my marriage.
I needed help. Someone who wasn’t in this house, someone who wasn’t part of this family, someone who could tell me what to do and how to survive whatever was coming.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket with trembling fingers. I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for.
Blair Beaumont.
Blair had been my friend for years. Blair understood Newport and its vicious undercurrents. Blair had survived her own battles in this world of money and secrets and beautiful surfaces hiding ugly truths.
If anyone could help me, it was Blair.
I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear, my heart pounding, my breath catching in my throat.
One ring. Two. Three.