Revenge Read online

  Refusing to look at him, I stared at his neck, at the skin that would be covered up when he buttoned his collar. It was astounding how hypnotic a man’s throat could be.

  He brought his hand up to my chin and tipped it until I was forced to look up and my gaze crashed into baby blues. “Yes, I was alone,” he said. “When I slept, anyway, since that’s what you’re really asking. I was not alone before that.”

  My mouth fell open, but before I could react further, he went on.

  “Genevieve was here. She asked me spur of the moment to have dinner with her.”

  “Oh,” I said, processing. And then when I’d processed, I said it again, this time in relief. “Ohhh.”

  His daughter. That’s what would take him away so urgently. Not Marion. Everything was fine.

  Unless, Genny wasn’t fine. “Anything wrong?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

  “Nope. She just wanted to talk to me before the big day.”

  She’d needed him, and he’d been there for her. Came running at the drop of a hat, even. And he thought he wasn’t a good father.

  A different kind of jealousy pinged in my chest.

  “Anything important?” I buttoned his collar and began working on his tie.

  “She got a job. I’ll leave her to tell you the details. Well beneath her, but she’s happy about it.”

  I tightened the knot and patted it down. “So you will be too.”

  “I’m trying to be.” He grimaced. “And she’d prefer we call her Genevieve from now on.”

  “Got it.” I completely understood the girl, remembering exactly what it felt like to be that age, wanting to be taken seriously.

  Still it had to be hard on Edward to realize his daughter was a grown-up. I rubbed my hand against the stubble at his jaw.

  He gave a small smile that quickly turned right back into a frown. “You’ve been crying. Your eyes are puffy.”

  “Oh, God. Do I look terrible?” I pulled away and scanned for something I might be able to see my reflection in.

  But he pulled me instantly back into his arms. “You look stunning, bird. I would have said so first thing if you hadn’t directed the conversation elsewhere. I promise that no one will notice your eyes unless they looked hard and long at you every day, and I better be the only person who does that. So, tell me, why were you crying?”

  Remnants of my fury returned. “My husband didn’t come home after discussing a subject that was very important to me. Why do you think I was crying?”

  His reasons for not coming home may have been warranted, but the way he had treated me was unacceptable. Marion might have let that kind of behavior slide. There was no way his current wife would.

  He let out a sigh and pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re right. I’m an arsehole.”

  “I’m glad you agree. Unfortunately, I doubt that acknowledgment alone will change how you behave.”

  “You’re probably right there too.” His candor was both charming and irritating.

  I stretched my arms around his neck, allowing myself to hold him for the first time that morning. “You could try though, maybe? To be a little more considerate to what I might be thinking in situations like that? To show me the respect you expect me to show you?”

  He considered. “Yes. I can try.”

  Well. That had gone better than expected.

  He sealed the agreement with a kiss that wasn’t at all chaste. He tasted like coffee and, faintly, like toothpaste, and if it hadn’t been for the long list of items on my to-do list, I would have been happy to stay right there and continue kissing him for much longer.

  “I better…” I said, pushing away.

  This time he let me go.

  I started out of the kitchen, the knot in my stomach considerably looser than when I’d awoken. The day was still young, and there were still a lot of things to be anxious about, but at least where Edward had spent the night wasn’t one of them.

  Or was I being too trusting?

  I stopped at the doorway and looked back toward him. “You really only came out to see Genny. Er, Genevieve? There’s nothing else I should know?”

  “I really only came for Genevieve.” He sounded genuine, and I was sure it was the truth. It would be easy enough to prove otherwise. He wasn’t the type to tell disputable lies.

  Still, not everything was settled between us. Whether it was just the conversation from the day before that remained unfinished or something else stirring in the air, I didn’t know. Either way, I was going to have to try to ignore it for now.

  The rest of the morning flew by with preparations for the party. Camilla arrived soon after I did, Freddie’s sitter in tow, so she could help out, which I hadn’t thought I’d need but was grateful for in the end. Edward hid away in his office during most of the hubbub, but he came out near the end and helped with the finishing details. Then we all drove together to Cambridge for the graduation.

  Marion arrived with Hagan who had brought a date, putting one more person between where she sat and where Edward sat, which was definitely a plus in my book. At least she was out of my eyesight, and while I could still feel her presence most of the time, I managed to forget about her for long stretches of time during the commencement ceremony.

  Afterward was a different story.

  Though Camilla was an excellent photographer, Edward had hired a professional as well so that she didn’t have to work a family event. That meant lots of pictures—several of which had the star of the day posing between her beaming parents. Pictures that I was mostly not a part of since I had to head back right away to greet early guests.

  The arrangement made sense—me going early with Camilla, and Edward, Marion, Hagan, and Genevieve following later—but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I lingered after the last big group shot before leaving, my chest tight with envy as I watched them take a few immediate family shots.

  They looked good like that, the four of them. Hagan tall and chiseled like his father. Genevieve a perfect blend of both her parents. Edward dominating each setup without even trying. Marion always posed just a little too close.

  “They won’t be too long after us,” Camilla said, misreading my hesitation. “And if we hurry, we can have a glass of champagne before anyone else arrives.”

  That was all I needed to prod me away. “Count me in.”

  Everything after that moved in a whirlwind. Guests began arriving almost as soon as we got to the house, people I didn’t know and had only heard of when filling out the guest lists with Edward and Genevieve. Fortunately, Camilla knew most of them and was able to play hostess while I took deep breaths, smiled a bunch, and tried not to hyperventilate.

  When Edward showed up, I felt much calmer, even though his presence meant Marion’s as well. She quickly found some friends from the past that occupied her, though, which was a relief. By that time, most of my party-planning assignment was completed. Iba managed the caterers and took care of any hiccups that occurred while Edward paraded me around the party introducing me to more people than I’d possibly be able to remember. It was busy and I constantly had to be “on,” but being at my husband’s side made it sort of fun. I liked the attention he gave me, the way his voice intoned when he said my name, with similar pride that he bestowed on Genny.

  It was more than an hour into the event when Edward finally let me slip away while he talked boring financials with someone from the company. I still hadn’t had a chance to congratulate his daughter, and it felt like the perfect opening.

  She was gathered with a small group of women, but she didn’t seem to be that engaged with the current conversation, so I tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

  “You did it!” I exclaimed, embracing her when she turned around. “I can’t imagine the kind of hard work it took to get top honors. Your father is proud of you. I am, too, for that matter.”

  She was beaming when we separated. “Thank you. And thank you so much for the party. It’s exactly what I wanted
. High class but laid back. It’s very...” She searched for the word to describe it.

  “Mature,” I said, helping her out.

  “Yes. Exactly,” she laughed.

  “I’m glad to be a part of it. It’s all my pleasure.” It was an honest statement. Edward was traditional and bossy with my time, but being in charge of the party planning had been my idea. The project felt similar to design work. There was an esthetic and a mood that Genevieve had wanted to capture, and I approached it in the same way I would have if she’d asked me to redo her apartment.

  Plus, she was Edward’s daughter, and I’d had very little opportunity to get to know her since she had been at school, and that bothered me for selfish reasons. She was a part of my husband’s life that I wasn’t a part of, a part of his life that I envied. Right now she and Hagan were as close as I had to having a child of my own.

  “Well, good on you then,” she said. “I wouldn’t know where to begin to do something like this, let alone want to. Believe me when I say that your skills are much appreciated.”

  “I second that,” came a voice from the group behind her. “Thank you for this.”

  My stomach dropped, recognizing who it was. Genevieve stepped to the side inviting me into the circle of women, and exposing the one particular one I’d missed. “Marion, I didn’t see you there. Sorry to steal your daughter away like that.”

  Something flashed across her eyes making me reexamine what I’d just said. Realizing the statement had been an unintended threat to her motherhood, I didn’t feel any regrets. If she had insecurities about her parenting skills, that wasn’t my problem. No, my problem was my own insecurities, both about parenting and wifing.

  She got me back with a jab of her own, whether she realized it or not. “No problem. We were only talking about her as a baby. Difficult pregnancy. Very easy birth.”

  People had spoken about their pregnancies in front of me numerous times, and it had never bothered me in the slightest. Hearing about it from Edward’s ex-wife was a different story. She’d owned his heart. I was certain of that, even though he’d never said as much. He loved me too, but I didn’t know if I owned his heart.

  On top of owning his heart, she’d mothered his children. He’d wanted her to mother his children. I was equally certain about that fact. Edward didn’t let even insignificant details occur in his life without his direction. There was no way he hadn’t been one hundred percent on board with her getting pregnant.

  And I wanted to be pregnant with his child. And I wanted to own his heart. And suddenly in that moment, despite all the evidence to the contrary, I was convinced I would never have either.

  I was soaking in envy, and it was hard to pretend otherwise.

  There was nothing to do but lean into it. “Was that why you stopped at two? Because of the difficult pregnancy?”

  She shook her head. “The pregnancy was hard because she was a girl. I’m convinced.” She laughed, making light of the superstition. “And because Genny was stubborn, even in the womb.”

  Her daughter winced. Apparently Marion hadn’t gotten the memo about the name change.

  “But it was a fluke,” she continued. “I didn’t have problems before or after with my boys. No, it wasn’t for the pregnancy. Edward would have had more, I believe, but two was a good number to have. Easy to manage when they’re small. It worked out well, I think.” She gave a loving yet distant smile to Genevieve.

  And I tried not to hyperfocus on the five words that stung like a million bee stings at once. Edward would have had more.

  More with Marion, not with me. Not unless I gave up every last shred of my control. Not unless I gave up Hudson.

  I was well aware that his thoughts on more children could have changed over the twenty plus years since Genny was born, but I was overwhelmingly vulnerable when it came to this woman. I was ridiculous and insecure.

  I was so wrapped up in my inner misery, I almost missed Marion’s question, only the sound of my name caught my attention.

  “...Celia? Do you want children?”

  I could feel the color drain from my face. The rest of the women—wives of businessmen, ladies I’d only been introduced to as a second thought, socialites and trophies like my mother had been—looked eagerly at me, waiting for an answer. This was exactly the kind of gossip Madge Werner’s type lived for. Even if I had a solid answer, I wouldn’t want to share it with them.

  Yet, I really wanted to share it with Marion. Wanted to be on her level, if only for a moment. Wanted to lie to get it if I had to.

  “Oh, wow,” Genevieve said while I debated how to respond. “I hadn’t thought of father having more children. Are you going to?”

  My mouth felt like cotton. “Uh. I…”

  Surprise of all surprises, Marion was the one who came to my rescue. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was very rude of me to ask.”

  I looked across the garden to Edward who caught my eye and winked. The lie wouldn’t come. “No. It’s fine. We haven’t quite decided.”

  “Edward’s probably against it,” one of the others said quietly. Did she think I couldn’t hear her?

  “Yes, probably,” Marion agreed.

  “No,” I protested. “We just haven’t quite figured it out yet is all. I have a job and all that.” Take that, Marion, Mrs. Stay-At-Home-Perfect-Wife.

  “You’re young still. You have time.” Whatever her goal had been, it felt patronizing.

  “Well, not a lot of time,” another woman pointed out.

  Just what I needed to hear.

  I forced a smile. “If you ladies would please excuse me, I see another bottle of red needs to be opened.”

  Restraining myself so that I didn’t break into a run, I crossed the garden and slipped into the solarium. The room was practically made of glass, but even with the unobstructed view, being inside versus outside made it feel like I was hidden.

  I turned around to stare at the group I’d just left. They were laughing together, probably at a joke told at my expense, none of them looking in my direction.

  I don’t care about your opinion, I told her in my head. You don’t mean anything to me. You’re not a threat. I can have a baby whenever I want to, Edward on board or not. It’s not like he controls my birth control.

  He’d probably controlled hers.

  That made me smile, as though I’d won some imaginary battle when in reality her submission likely earned her more devotion than he’d ever give me.

  “Is it hard having her here?”

  I glanced at Camilla who’d sidled up beside me. She must have followed my gaze. For half a second, I considered pretending otherwise, then the impulse was gone. “If I’m being polite? Yes.”

  “And if you aren’t being polite?”

  “Fuck yes.” I laughed with her, feeling better now that this tension had somewhere to go. “She’s just…” There were so many things I wanted to say about Marion, most of which were completely unfounded. “So accommodating, which shouldn’t be irritating, but somehow it is, especially because of how accommodating she is to Edward. And have you noticed how she looks to him all the time? When someone asks her a question or she wants to fill up her wine glass or, Jesus, when she wants to go to the bathroom. She always looks to him as though she’s asking for permission.”

  Even now as I watched, she was looking at him. He’d come to join them, seeming to have something to say to Genevieve, and there was Marion, gazing at him like he ruled the roost.

  I mean, I probably did too, but it was our roost, not hers.

  Camilla let out a sigh. “They were always like that.”

  “But she’s married now to somebody else. She can be like that with her own husband. Leave mine alone.” I glanced at my sister-in-law, gauging her reaction. “Petty, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all.”

  Taking that as permission to vent, I continued. “Like...it feels like she’s still with him. Or like she still wants to be with him. And if that’s the case,
then why did she leave him?” Suddenly I wondered if I had my facts wrong. “She did leave him, right?”

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “Edward hasn’t told you about it?”

  The question brushed up against one of my vulnerable spots, making me flinch internally as though she’d smashed against a bruise. He hadn’t told me. No matter how many times I’d asked.

  And that hurt. And felt suspicious. And was too embarrassing to admit.

  “Is there something to tell besides Marion left him for another man?” If I couldn’t hear it from Edward, maybe I could get it from her.

  She gave a half shrug. “Aren’t those stories always more complicated than they seem on the surface?”

  If “those stories” referred to any type of relationship breakup then the answer was yes. I hadn’t had many of my own, but the ones that I’d been involved with—Dirk, Hudson, the ones I’d made happen for other people—all of them had been complex.

  Camilla nudged me with her shoulder. “Ask him. I could tell you some, but there are missing pieces in my version. He should be the one to tell you.”

  Right. Like it was that easy.

  As though reading my thoughts she added, “And if he doesn’t want to, make him tell you. That’s something a wife should know.”

  I nodded in agreement, wondering exactly how I could make Edward do anything.

  I had to figure it out, though. Immediately. Not only because it was destroying me to be left in the dark, but also because he’d just walked off into the private hedged gardens with Marion. Alone.

  And I’d be damned if he didn’t plan on telling me what the fuck that was all about.

  Eighteen

  Edward

  It was my idea to explore the garden. Marion needed time alone with me, I could see it in her gaze, constantly tugging at me throughout the day. Old habits being what they were between us, she would never bring herself to ask. I had to be the one to care for her. As always.

  I hated that I could still know how. A decade since our divorce, and I could still govern her with very little effort. It was like riding a bicycle. My body did it naturally, such as when my hand pressed at the small of her back to guide her out of my office the day before. There was no thought behind these movements. It was in my bones.