Page 7 of The Liar I Married
SEVEN
10 MONTHS BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
At first, I decide not to confront John. It would be a terrible mistake if I’m wrong but the images of him with another woman keep playing on my mind. I know I’m stupid to be driving into the city to find the new bistro Michael had mentioned. City Lights Bistro is conveniently situated next to a parking garage. I wonder just how exclusive this restaurant is and if I’ll need a reservation to get a table. As I push open the door, the first thing I notice is the high ceilings, above a sophisticated, stylish interior with elegant décor. Modern pendant lights above each table give muted and intimate light. The exposed brick walls are adorned with contemporary art, and large windows offer views of the bustling city streets.
The air is filled with the mouthwatering scents of gourmet dishes, freshly baked bread, and the delicate fragrance of herbs and spices. An attentive server waves me to a table with a crisp white tablecloth, fresh flowers, and polished silverware. He pulls out a plush seat, before handing me a menu. I scan it quickly and look at him. “Thank you. I’ll order now. I’ll have the lobster roll and coffee.”
My attention is drawn to the busy street outside the window. Vehicles stop and go in a constant stream of noise but, inside therestaurant, soft jazz plays in the background beneath the gentle hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses and silverware. I flick my gaze around the soft pastel-colored room. The clientele appears to be business professionals either in twos or small groups. It’s a perfect place for a business meeting or an intimate meal. My meal arrives and tastes as good as it looks. It should be, as it costs more than a day’s wages for most people.
I’m finishing a second cup of coffee when John’s Lexus pulls up to the curb. He must be the only person on earth to get a parking place in Manhattan but then he does have an app on his phone. My heart starts racing and I’m not exactly sure what I should do. Dashing for the door is out of the question. I didn’t expect to see him here; I just wanted to see where he wined and dined Rebecca Lawson. My gaze is fixed on the Lexus as John climbs out, walks around the hood, pulling his suit jacket down at the front, before opening the door for the lawyer. She is more gorgeous in real life than I had imagined. Her tailored business suit drips its designer label and her long legs rise from shoes only bought on Fifth Avenue. I could not possibly compete with someone like that. Despair at seeing them together grips me, but the answer to my question is there right before my eyes. Two thoughts flash through my mind: do I stand my ground, or run for the bathroom? My legs won’t move and I’m stuck staring at the door as if mesmerized but they walk right past me and my stomach drops to my boots at the way John rests one hand in the small of her back.
The concierge greets him by name and they are led to a discreet table in direct eyeline to me. John is so involved with his conversation that he doesn’t notice me at first, but as he lowers the menu after ordering, his eyes lock on me across the room. He frowns, waits for the server to retreat, leans in to speak to Rebecca, and then stands and walks toward me.
The woman gives me a cursory once-over and then dives into a briefcase. Have I unnerved her or is that the look of a woman caught with someone else’s husband? I look good today. Being married to John means that I have designer clothes as well and the appointment with the beauty parlor earlier gives me the confidence to smile at him. “So this is where you bring her—how fitting?” I reach for my coffee, trying hard to stop my hand trembling.
“Don’t make a scene, Jessie. You know I’d never cheat on you.” He bends to kiss me on the cheek and then slips into the chair beside me. “What are you doing here?”
As his cologne washes over me, so deliciously familiar it squeezes my heart, I notice the flush creeping up his neck and stare into his concerned deep blue eyes. I believe it’s the first time I’ve ever seen my husband off guard. “Michael told me about this place. I was in town so I decided to see if it stood up to its reputation. I didn’t expect to see you here. More importantly, what are you doing here with Miss World? Are you trading up to a new model? I don’t blame you, John, I must be at least two years past my best by date.”
“Why do you always react like this when you see me interact with women? I work with women, represent women, and I’d say at least twenty-five percent of my meetings happen over lunch.” John shrugs. “It’s really the only time I have to spare. Right now is an important time for me to shine at the firm. One of the old partners is retiring and I’m in line for the position, so I don’t want to be seen dropping the ball.” He sighs and reaches for my hand. “I know I’m away from home too much, but if I can get the partnership, I’ll be able to delegate some of my work to others. It’s something I’ve worked for my entire life.” His hand is warm and dry over mine as he strokes his thumb across my suddenly sensitive flesh. “Miss World, as you call her, is the firm’s corporate lawyer and we’re negotiating contracts.”
Words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I do recognize her actually. She came up in a black-tie event on social media a month or so ago. You were with her then as well, sipping champagne instead of being home with your family.” I held up a hand to stop his retort. “Oh, I understand. It’s strictly business, isn’t it, John?” I laugh at the absurdity but see a shadow cross his eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t make a scene but you best get back to Miss World. I do believe I’m making her jealous.” I cup his chin and then run a finger down the front of his shirt. “At least now I know why you won’t wear your wedding ring.” I twiddle my fingers at him. “Run along now or you’ll be missed.” I signal to the server for my check but before I can drop the credit card onto the plate, John pushes to his feet.
“Please put my wife’s tab on my account.” He gives me a long look. “I’ll be late home tonight. Don’t hold dinner for me.” Without another word he turns and walks away.
Holding my head high, I walk from the bistro and somehow make it back to my SUV. All I can see is John with Rebecca Lawson. If she works at the firm he would be in contact with her daily. How can I ever compete with that? She sees him more than I do. Michael suggested I confront John but I don’t believe he’d approve of my actions in the bistro. I pushed John into a corner. His usual way of arguing is to throw his arms into the air and pace up and down. He always wins because I’m afraid of losing him, but this time, he knew his lame excuse wouldn’t satisfy me, so he punishes me. You see, saying he won’t be home for dinner, in John speak, means he won’t be home at all.
EIGHT
NOW
Trepidation at the thought of seeing my mother-in-law fills me, especially after the note Maria had pressed into my hand, which insisted I don’t trust anyone. I wait in hope of seeing Maria come by to pick up the lunch tray. When Dolly left to eat her own lunch, she mentioned running a few errands. I’m alone and helpless. The sound of footsteps from the passageway and the squeak of wheels brings Maria at last. I beckon her closer, touch her arm, and smile at her. “Thank you for giving me the note but can you tell me who it is I’m not supposed to trust? You understand I’ve been in a coma and my head is a little muddled at the moment, so any help you could give me would be very much appreciated.”
“I don’t know who sent it. It was given to one of the gardeners over a week ago. I kept it safe for you but I hear things and I see things.” Maria looks at her hands and then lifts her eyes to me. “They speak about you as if you’re dead and what they plan to do with everything that is yours.”
That much I’d deduced but hearing it is a reality check. They’re all vultures, circling my body. I shake my head, sad that it’s come to this. “I know they took my things from the houseand gave them to Goodwill, so I guess they didn’t believe I would survive the accident.”
“No, not the things from the other house.” Maria looks furtively around her. “This house. The members of your family have plans for this house and they don’t want you to know about them.”
I swallow hard. Could my entire family be plotting against me? Is there no one I can trust? I consider what she said for a moment. “Do you answer the phone?”
“Yes, on occasion, but Dolly insists I leave it to her.” Maria frowns. “She says she’s concerned that I would give out information to the wrong people. As you probably know, being from a prominent family means the media is interested in how you’re doing. The family don’t give them any information whatsoever.”
Suddenly frightened to ask the question, I take a deep breath. “Has my mother or father called the house and has anyone mentioned my kids?”
“Not to my knowledge.” She picks up the tray and shakes her head sadly. “I only answer the phone if Dolly is out which isn’t very often as everything is delivered to the house. Most times she gets calls here on her cell. If that happens in my presence she leaves the room.”
I need to keep her here for a few more moments. I have more questions to ask her. “How many times has my husband been here to visit me?”
“Many times.” Maria’s eyes keep flicking toward the door.
My heart thunders in my chest. “And my children? How many times has he brought them to see me?”
“I have never seen your children.” Maria shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harper, there’s nothing else I can tell you.”
My heart sinks to my boots. It’s as if my girls don’t exist. I fight back tears as overwhelming grief of not knowing if theyare dead or alive floods over me. I need to see my twins. Their angelic faces fill my head and then vanish. Suddenly I can’t remember what they look like. Panic grips me and I hear the alarm in Maria’s voice drifting into my head.
“Mrs. Harper. Are you okay?” She gives me a little shake. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m so sorry.”
