Page 23 of Am I the Only One

“So, what do I do?”

“Well,” she starts, adjusting herself in her chair, “you can do what everyone else does—what the public is used to seeing—and what’s best for his career.”

“You mean, play the good wife? Keep my mouth shut, smile at the masses ... be made a fool of when speculation begins to stir? Become another politician’s wife, turning a blind eye to her cheating husband?”

She leans in. “It’s our world, Carly. It’s what we agreed to when we said ‘I do.’”

“No,” I bite, sharply. “That isn’t what I agreed to. That isn’t who I am.”

“But it’s who you are now.” She pushes her tea aside. “Look, the last thing you want to do is ostracize yourself by not handling this properly. You’ll lose everything, including your reputation and most certainly your job. Tripp is adored—he’s the one who holds the promise of a better tomorrow, and you hold nothing but his hand. Without hard evidence to back your accusations, you’re disposable—not him.”

“Why? Because he’s a Montgomery?”

“Exactly. That family is a legacy.”

I look around the room as people hold their quiet conversations and eat their award-winning lobster and duck confit. Most of these men are probably funding my husband’s campaign. Tailored suits, strong egos, powerful influence, and members of the good ol’ boys club. This is what I’m up against.

“It’s all bullshit,” I seethe under my breath.

“Not to them. We’re merely ornate figures in their world. But that is what gives us power.”

“Power?” I contest with a defeated shake of my head. “What power do I possibly hold over him?”

“A lot more than what you think.” She takes a quick glance around the room before meeting my eyes again and lowering her voice, “You have the power to destroy him.”

“If I destroy him, I destroy myself too. His family will make sure I pay for whatever damage I do to Tripp’s reputation and career.”

“Perhaps, but you’re smarter than that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“People underestimate you because they don’t know you—the real you. The girl who grew up poor and did everything she could to build a better life for herself. They all see you as Tripp’s arm trophy—quiet, supportive, and demure. And you have those qualities, but if they were to dig down to your roots, they’d find someone much different. Am I right?”

I soak in what she’s saying and nod, wanting to believe she’s right. I’ve lived in this glass world for a very long time, long enough for memories of the past to fade. I grew up far from privileged. Heck, there were times I lied about how the vending machine ate my money just so I could get a dollar to use to put food in my belly. My lies were small in comparison to the other kids I went to school with, but it was only because I was too terrified of getting caught to try anything else.

“Tripp knows who I was before him. He knows I’m not a doormat.”

She cocks her head, and with condescension dripping from her tongue, she remarks, “And, yet, here he is, treating you as such, wiping the shit from the bottom of his polished loafers on you every time he leavesherto come home to you.”

Her words are sharp, cutting straight to the truth I haven’t been brave enough to see on my own.

“He’s a politician, Carly. He only cares about himself.”

“And what about your husband?”

A glint of a smile creeps onto her lips. “You don’t think I play that man like a fiddle? I may portray the good wife on the outside, but behind closed doors, I’m a snake, and he knows it.” She takes a sip of her tea before adding, “Ours is not a marriage of love; it’s one of opportunity. We’re more powerful together than what we are apart, and we both signed up for that.”

“So, you just use each other for your own personal agendas?” I question, not entirely shocked. Margot is feisty and opinionated, always holding strong against the men in our world. I just didn’t know that her marriage was one of convenience.

Her wink confirms.

“Why have you never told me this before?”

“Why should I? I mean, it isn’t like I’m unhappy. I love my life. But every marriage is different, and this is the one Ichooseto be in.”

“I don’t know if I could be in a marriage like that.”

“You already are,” she states. “He doesn’t love you. I hate to be so blunt about it because I know that deep down you still adore him. You want to paint him in colors that don’t exist. But that man doesn’t love you if he’s fucking other women, and that right there should be enough to harden your heart to him.”