Page 85 of Am I the Only One

“God, no,” I blurt. “I’d actually decided to try to make it work between us, but then this happened ...” My words fall short because I have no clue where to go from here.

Here I was, set out to prove his infidelities so I could leave him with a little self-worth and money in my pocket. But that blew up in my face and left me with nothing. If he ever finds out about anything I’ve been up to recently, he’ll leave, no questions asked, and I’ll be left with nothing.

There is only one way for me to come out of this nightmare with a shred of my dignity intact, and that is to go home and be a perfect wife and pray he never finds out.

That will only happen if I can find a way to keep Emma quiet.

Carly

Those pictures were taken for a reason. It’s been three days of hell. I’m terrified to turn on the television, open a newspaper, or even listen to the radio. There isn’t a single hour, minute, second that passes without tremendous fear that my world will come crashing down. It’s the constant state of paranoia that has my stomach in knots.

I can barely eat.

I can barely breathe.

But I can’t give up.

I just can’t.

“Are you almost ready?”

I look in the mirror to see Tripp standing in the doorway of the bathroom as I fasten the back to my pearl earring. With a loving smile, I respond, “I’m ready,” before turning around to show him my new ivory-colored shift dress. “How do I look?”

“Perfect.”

Stepping in front of him, I adjust his tie and brush my hands along the shoulders of his navy suit coat. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Nervous?”

“Come on now,” he says with a smirk. “I’m an old pro at this. I don’t get nervous.”

Tripp looks into my eyes, and as much as it should calm me, there’s nothing in this world that can pacify my anxiety at this point.

“I’m glad we’re back on the same page. I missed having you by my side at these events.”

These past few weeks, I haven’t been actively involved in his campaign, and after a few big fights about it, he gave up on acknowledging my distance. But after the incident with Luca, I talked to Tripp and smoothed things over as best as I could. I admitted my insecurities, lied and told him that I trusted him. I apologized repeatedly and vowed to be better, do better, and love him better. I cried horrified tears, which he interpreted as tears of guilt for putting so much strain on our marriage. I tucked my tail between my legs and became the doormat I swore to Margot I would never be. I recognize the predicament I’m in, and I understand the woman I have to become to keep my world intact.

We made love that night, but it didn’t feel right. I’m a total fraud, just as dirty as he is. Acknowledging that I’ve become the very thing I despise—both in life and in my marriage—was a hard pill to swallow, but swallow it I did.

Tripp once told me there wasn’t anything I could do that would make him walk away from me. Of course, we were young and newly married, so I doubt he ever would have considered the web of deceit I would eventually weave around us. Still, I cling to those words like a drowning woman.

The doorbell rings, interrupting our moment.

“My parents are here,” he notes, and I’m forced to bite my cheek.

They thought it would be best for us to arrive at the same time to reinforce our so-called family-first ideals. I trail behind Tripp, not unaware of the irony. My having to stand behind him and view the world from over his shoulder was something I used to find demeaning. Now, I take the spot like an obedient dog.

When he opens the front door, Eloise stands there all polished and poised, and starts right in on doting over her son and fussing over his tie that I just straightened.

“Don’t you look lovely, dear,” his father says before pecking my cheek.

“Thank you. It’s good to see you.”

“Yes, lovely.” Eloise echoes her husband’s sentiments as she eyes my whole look, silently picking me apart.

“Eloise, it’s so nice to see you.” I smile and lean forward to air kiss her cheek.

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