Page 97 of Blush
Dr. Moore smiled. “Now, that’s the girl I met at Young Arts.”
Vivian heard the bedroom door click open. The curtains had been closed against the sunlight for hours, and now she didn’t know if it was light or dark outside. Leonard sat on the edge of the bed. Her back was to him, and she didn’t turn around.
“Vivian,” Leonard said. “Are you unwell?”
She felt his hand on her hair, stroking it away from her forehead.
“No,” she whispered.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
She blinked in the near darkness. When she didn’t respond, Leonard got up and opened the curtains. Sunlight poured in. How could it still be the same day? It was like time had paused, waiting for her to make her confession, ready or not.
“Vivian!” he said, squinting at her.
“What?” She sat up.
“Your face...”
She pulled a hand mirror from her nightstand. Her cheeks were lined with streaks of mascara, the area around her mouth stained red from smeared lipstick. Only her hair was still in place, sprayed and bobby-pinned into submission.
“I just need to wash off my makeup,” she said, walking to the bathroom. Her legs felt like lead. She dispensed the foaming cleanser into her hands, avoiding her own eyes in the mirror. She preferred to look her best for difficult conversations, but her skin was too blotchy,her eyes too swollen, to think about reapplying makeup. She would face her husband without armor, her skin as raw and vulnerable on the outside as she felt on the inside.
When she returned to the bedroom, Leonard was pacing.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Did something happen with Leah? What’s she doing back here?”
“It’s not Leah,” she said, not knowing whether to sit or stand. She decided to sit, but not on the bed. She chose one of the Georgian armchairs near the window. She and Leonard had bought the set while on vacation around the time they were renovating the house, both enthralled with the carved legs and pale green cotton jacquard upholstery. She ran her hand over it now, wishing she could go back to that time and tell her husband what had happened in the moment.
“You’re being dramatic, Vivian,” he said. “Out with it.”
“Remember the day in your office when I asked you not to sell to the baron, if there was any way we could borrow or—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, not this again.”
“Please, Leonard. This is difficult for me, so just listen. I don’t want to sell—you know that. But I especially don’t want to sell to the baron.”
Leonard sat in the chair next to hers.
“He was spiteful back in the day, and yes, pulling out of the deal like that hurt us. But it was a long time ago. And he’s offering us good money now. You’ve got to let go of this, Vivian. All of it.”
She nodded. “I want to. But first, there’s something I need to tell you. The reason Leah is back here is that she found a letter. It was folded in one of the books she took from the library. The letter was from the baron to me. Thirty-five years ago.”
“What do you mean, to you? To you about what?”
As difficult as it was, Vivian looked at her husband, wanted to imprint in her mind the way he looked at her before she lost all of his respect. Possibly his love. She gripped the arm of the chair.
“Remember when the baron came to visit after you fired Delphine, and I took him for a tour of the stables?”
“No,” Leonard said.
“He wanted to see them even though I told him we didn’t have any horses. While we were there... he kissed me. And I kissed him back.”
“This is crazy talk, Vivian.”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” she said quickly. “And it never happened again. It was a moment of insanity, and I put a halt to it the second I came to my senses. But he kept calling and writing me letters. He refused to take no for an answer. I know he told you he was ending the partnership because you fired Delphine. But I believe the real reason is that I spurned his advances. And now that he’s back, he’s made it clear his expectations haven’t changed.”
“No. That can’t be.” Leonard jumped up.
