1049 P.M. — September 10
ANTONIA
Antonia stared at the message until her body went numb with shock.
Her brain spun like the wheels on a jet just before takeoff as she tried to convince herself that the message didn’t mean what she knew it meant.
Ted was cheating on her. With their assistant.
Her heart thumped, her hands shook, her stomach quivered.
Bring your A-game. I have a lot of energy to burn.
On the other side of the wood-paneled wall, the shower turned off, and Antonia panicked, quickly setting the phone down and turning onto her side again.
She lay there, wrestling with what to do.
Throw the covers off, pound on the bathroom door and scream at him?
Pick up his phone and rush to Charlotte’s room to confront her?
Wait for him to come out and punch him in the face? Or wait to see what he did next?
Yes, that was the smart choice. She would close her eyes, make her breathing heavy, and pretend to be asleep.
It was one thing for Charlotte to be beckoning him to her room, but that didn’t mean Ted would take her up on it.
For all she knew, this was the first time.
Or maybe she’d made offers like this before and he turned them down.
Oh, who was she kidding? The bastard was cheating.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom and she heard him groping around in the dark until he reached the bed.
For a second, she thought the mattress might dip down under his weight.
She could already feel the rush of relief of it.
Only that didn’t happen. Instead, he picked up his phone, the screen lighting up the room a little while he continued to the wardrobe, opening it.
She heard the sound of a drawer sliding, the rustling of his jeans, his zipper closing, his feet wriggling into the trainers he insisted on leaving tied up.
She held her breath as the door opened, spilling in low light from the hall, then closing quietly behind him.
Antonia threw off the covers and hurried around the bed, bumping her shin on the frame.
Pain seared through her leg. “Ouch! God dammit,” she muttered as she limped to the door.
Her heart pounded wildly as she opened it just a crack.
She peeked down the hall just in time to see Charlotte’s hand as she tugged on his shirt and pulled him into the room.
Antonia’s body went numb and she felt an overwhelming urge to slide down the wall onto the floor.
But she didn’t. Instead, she took a slow, deep breath, and tiptoed down the hallway in her pajamas and bare feet, stopping at Charlotte’s room where she stood frozen with her hand poised to knock.
Everything was happening in slow motion.
Her brain was giving the illusion that she was somehow disconnected from the world around her.
Distant. Her own hand seemed detached from her body, as if it belonged to someone else.
She was suddenly some poor random woman on their show with a dirtbag for a husband.
Not Ted. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her.
She was a therapist—a doctor—for God’s sake.
A world-renowned psychiatrist. This couldn’t be happening.
And yet it was.
Her skin turned clammy and she started to shiver. Her mouth went dry.
On the other side of the door, Charlotte laughed. No doubt at her.
She suddenly longed for her mother, who had been dead for four years already. Her mom would protect her right now. She’d hug her close and tell her exactly what to do. What to say.
Because Antonia, for the first time in decades, had no idea how to handle what was happening. But she had to know. She was the world’s foremost expert on marriage after all.
What would she tell a patient to do?
Certainly not this. She’d never suggest banging on the door and creating a scene in the middle of the night.
That could help nothing. Her own good advice would be to gather more evidence, then confront your spouse when you’re well-rested and can have a calm, respectful conversation about what was going on.
Know your boundaries first. Know what you’re willing to accept and what you won’t.
Oh hell, screw that. She obviously wouldn’t accept being cheated on.
She wasn’t going to turn a blind eye while her husband and their employee made a fool of her.
A voice in her head told her, Ruin their fun and make damn sure it never happens again.
Blow everything up. All of it. Scream loud enough that Travis would come running, and everyone aboard this stupid yacht would know they were frauds.
She pulled her hand back, ready to strike the door with all the rage and humiliation and betrayal coursing through her.
But then she heard a moan from the other side of the door.
It came from Ted. The sound of it was another horrible shock to her system.
That moan was a knife to her heart. It should only have belonged to her.
A pain ripped through her chest, an overwhelming squeezing sensation, and for a second, Antonia was afraid she was having a heart attack.
Breathe. Just breathe slowly.
Another moan, this time a higher pitched one she didn’t know.
She put her arm down. She was smarter than this.
Smarter than the guests on their show. Smarter than Charlotte.
She was certainly a hell of a lot smarter than her jackass husband.
Turning on her heel, she forced her legs to carry her the twenty feet to her door, even though it felt like she had just about reached the summit of Everest and had no strength to go on.
When she was safely back in her room, she poured herself a scotch, intending to down it in one go, then refill it.
Only as soon as it touched her lips, she recoiled.
There was no way she could drink after having woken up that morning so hung over.
She set the glass down on the table, then collapsed into an armchair, her mind racing, her chest heavy, her heart squeezing.
He was cheating on her. Right at that very moment.
Only a matter of feet away. The man who vowed to love and honor her for the rest of her days, was down the hall fucking their young employee with the beautiful, tight skin.
Her laptop caught her eye, and in a wave of desperation, she picked it up, opened it, and waited for it to load.
Enid would help. She would know what to do.
Email to: Enid.Stoll@
Email from: Antonia.HansleyDawson@
Subject: URGENT: You Were Right
Enid,
I hate to admit this, but I’ve just confirmed your suspicions are founded. I saw a text, then saw evidence of it in person. They’re at it right at this moment. Everything we’ve built is about to crumble, and I can’t think straight. I need your help immediately.
A
By the time she calculated the hour in California (five o’clock in the early evening), Enid had written back.
Email to: Antonia.HansleyDawson@
Email from: Enid.Stoll@
Subject: Re: URGENT: You Were Right
Glad you reached out to me first. That was your best move. Do nothing for now. Act normal. I’m calling counsel and will be back to you as soon as possible with a containment strategy. Hang in there. If you need to cry, go into the bathroom and turn on the shower.
Enid