CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Blair
Then
I forced myself to wait to confront him until the next afternoon. Carrie had agreed to babysit the kids. I hadn’t told her exactly what was going on, but she knew Scott and I weren’t exactly the strongest couple around.
I mean, so did all of Indigo Falls by this point. I knew we were the subject of gossip whether Scott did or not.
We never really had been a very strong couple. We’d started out on shaky ground, and had never really gotten our footing. I had thought we were working towards that goal. It turned out I was the only one interested in improving our relationship.
I’d requested that he come home early, or at least on time, today. I never, ever did that, so he’d texted right back saying he’d be sure to be home by five. I wondered if he was worried or felt guilty.
I waited on the sofa for him. I was wearing my workout clothes, having come straight from my daily run. It felt weird doing it without the stroller today. I’d long since lost the baby weight and even an additional ten pounds. I was probably in the best shape of my life.
Not that it mattered. He seemed to want a woman like Scarlett. And that just wasn’t who I was.
I tapped my fingernail against the wine glass in front of me, trying not to compare my short, polish free nails to the bright red talons I’d noticed on Scarlett. Not only was the wine glass full, but I’d also brought the bottle to the table with me.
I usually wouldn’t drink unless Scott was home and not drinking, so this was a treat. With four children, you never knew when you might need to drive somewhere.
Also, I needed the wine to help let me show my real emotions. My mother and father had brought me up to think that anger was a ‘bad’ emotion and should be avoided at all costs. That as a proper Southern girl, I should be sweet and accommodating in all situations.
Never mind that my mother was nothing like the woman she’d wanted me to be. She just pretended she was.
I shuddered, not wanting to think about that. I took a big gulp of my wine. I was just so relieved Gam had taken me in when they’d finally fallen apart.
Was my upbringing why I’d married Scott? Why I’d been content to just drift along in a marriage that was… just okay?
I heard the key in the lock and a pang of nerves shot through me. I wiped my slightly damp hands on my yoga pants. I hated confrontation. So much.
But this had to be done.
“Blair?” he called as soon as he walked in. “Are you okay?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. My throat was suddenly clogged with unshed tears. How could he do this to me? But the answer was in his texts; he didn’t love me. Never had.
I heard his footsteps approaching, watched him walk hurriedly, heading for the stairs.
“I’m here.” I said it softly, but you’d think a shotgun had gone off with the way he jumped.
“My God!” He clasped his chest. “What are you doing sitting there like that?”
“Waiting on you,” I said simply.
He looked around, a panic in his eyes I’d never seen before. Did he know? Did he at least suspect that I knew? “Where are the kids?” he finally asked.
“Carrie.” It’s all I had to say. He nodded, frowning and looking very nervous.
I met his eyes. “We need to talk.”
He took a deep breath and walked to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Okay,” he said, walking over and sitting on the sofa to the side of me, “what’s going on? Are the kids okay?”
Fear had replaced the nerves.
“They’re fine. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?” He glanced at his watch. “I came home, but I have to be back in less than an hour.”
I cocked my head at him. “Really? Why?” I didn’t bother to keep the skepticism from my tone.
His eyes didn’t meet mine. “I have a late appointment. Root canal.”
“Right.” I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped.
He shifted awkwardly, trying in vain to get comfortable. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, it’s just that I thought Fridays weren’t days you planned to meet Scarlett for dinner. I thought you reserved those ‘appointments’ for Tuesdays and Thursdays. Have things escalated?” I tried to act calm as I took a sip of wine, but my hand shook as I brought the glass to my mouth.
Scott, on the other hand, looked anything but calm. The color drained from his face, and he went completely still. “What… what are you talking about?”
“You tell me.” Maybe he would at least give me the courtesy of coming clean before I had to confront him with what I knew.
Nope. I shook my head as he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.
And I’m starting to get a bit upset by all of this drama.
Is it really necessary?” He shifted again as I just stared at him.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, and I could practically see the thoughts spinning in his head. Finally, he gave me something.
“I do occasionally go out to dinner with Scarlett on our late nights at the practice.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” I opened the manila folder in front of me and pulled out a picture Gam had taken through a restaurant window. The two of them weren’t touching, but it definitely looked like an intimate dinner.
I pushed the picture toward him, and it slid across the coffee table. He stared at it as if it was a scorpion. “I just told you I go out to dinner with her; why are you upset?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I had to find out about this through Gam spying on you. You were never going to tell me. Upset? I’m not upset, Scott. I’m furious.”
He stared at me. I’d barely ever told him I was mad about anything, much less furious. “Why?” he whispered, then cleared his throat and spoke up. “It’s just dinner.”
“Twice a week, every week for almost a year? You take her to nice places.” I stared at him. “In fact, you take her to the nicest places available. Over and over again. You’ve never taken me to those places.”
“Scarlett has particular tastes…”
“Who works on these late nights?” I interrupted. I knew Lana or one of the other dental hygienists had to be there with him and Scarlett.
“Me, Lana, sometimes Keisha, and Scarlett.”
“And do you invite any of them to eat with you?”
He glanced away. “Occasionally,” he said, “but they all have families to get home to…”
I gave him a tight, fake smile as his eyes shot back to mine. “Don’t you have a family to get home to, Scott?” I paused. “Also, remember I’m quite close with Lana.”
His eyes closed for a little longer than a blink. “No. No, I don’t ever invite them. I… I just need to blow off steam after a long day a couple of times a week.”
“At fancy restaurants with your gorgeous office manager while you tell your wife you’re working late? What do you think I’m doing every one of those nights? I’ll tell you. Those nights where you’re blowing off steam with a beautiful woman, I’m home taking care of our four children.”
He looked down at his hands, clasped in front of him. He didn’t have anything to say.
I was not going to be the next one to talk.
I let the silence drag out until he finally said, “Look, I should have told you.” His voice was pleading, his eyes soft.
“But I didn’t think you’d approve. I was afraid you’d be under the impression that Scarlett was more than just a colleague, a work friend. ”
“And that’s all she is?”
He thought my questions were almost over. He was starting to look relieved, a bit of the color coming back to his face. “Yes. That’s all.”
“She means nothing else to you?”
“Nothing.”
“And you don’t text her constantly? Or call her once you’re home from work?”
The slight smile fell off his face. “Well… I do call her sometimes. We talk off and on when I’m away from the office.”
“Sometimes?” I pulled the cell phone statement for his phone out of the envelope. “I looked into it. The two of you talk every night.” I pushed the papers I’d printed off towards him, but he didn’t take them.
“How did you know that was her number? It could just as easily be a…”
“Stop,” I said quietly. “At least have the decency to not lie after I already know the truth.”
His shoulders sagged and he suddenly looked tired. “Fine. Yes, I talk to her most nights.”
“And eat lunch with her every day?”
He nodded and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I swear nothing has happened…”
“Save it.” The words came out like bullets and he flinched. I’d never spoken like this to him. Hell, I’d probably never spoken like this to anyone. “You’re having an affair with her,” I said flatly.
He denied this vehemently. “No—absolutely not. I’ve never touched her in a non-professional way. Not once.”
I eyed him. He seemed to be telling the truth, and I was surprised that it still mattered to me. Even if he hadn’t been physical with Scarlett, she had a far better relationship with him than I did.
Maybe than I’d ever had.
“You don’t consider it cheating to come home late every night because you’re eating dinner with Scarlett, barely speak to your wife and kids, and then hole up in your office to talk to her some more? You ignore us constantly to be with her, Scott!”
He paused just long enough that I knew he was aware of exactly what he was doing. “No…”
“I do.” I took a couple of fortifying gulps of wine from my glass. “Is it cheating to take another woman to lunch and dinner at expensive restaurants almost every day?”
“We’re friends and colleagues, that’s all,” he protested.
“Do you even have a clue of what we’re doing at home while you’re out eating with your side piece?”
“Don’t call her that,” he snapped showing a spark of anger. “That’s beneath you and a ridiculous way to describe someone like Scarlett.”