Page 92 of The Honest Affair

“Hey,” she said. “Cheer up. You know Eric and I aren’t going to let you go hungry.”

The pity on her face was sweet, but it didn’t help.

“I’ve been taking advantage of the two of you for months now,” I said. “It’s becoming embarrassing. Olivia comes home in a month. What are we going to do? Live in your basement?”

“Well, I was thinking more the guest rooms on the third floor, but whatever you want.” Jane crouched to the floor and started fussing with the hem of the dress. “If you really want to be on your own, Eric will get you an apartment.”

“Yes. I’ll think about it. But honestly, if we need space, we can just stay at Mother’s. She’ll be at the Hamptons all summer anyway.”

I didn’t add that in either arrangement, I would still be dependent on the generosity of my family. And for the first time in my life, I found the idea extremely distasteful. Just a few months ago, I had plans to return to school, but I couldn’t even do that. According to my lawyers and Eric, it apparently made more sense now for me to stay close to Olivia’s primary residence in order to avoid charges of abandonment (despite the fact that I would have literally been closer in Boston).

I hated every minute of it. I wanted to strike out on my own so badly I could taste it. Matthew really was rubbing off on me.

“Well, maybe Calvin will agree to the terms of the latest settlement next week and you’ll be free,” Jane said as she stood again.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I muttered.

So far, every one of Eric’s increasingly bloated offers to Calvin on my behalf had been shut down. My husband hadn’t moved on his demands, which he argued were all the more reasonable given the fact that the judge presiding over our divorce had indeed sided with his claims that he had signed our prenuptial agreement under duress.

“Hey,” Jane said, taking my wrist and shaking it slightly. “Snap out of it. You’re literally going to a ball in about four days. Isn’t that supposed to be what most girls dream of?”

I sighed and went behind the privacy screen in the corner where I could change but talk at the same time.

“Sometimes I feel like the balls are the prison,” I said as I carefully pulled off the gown, then handed it over the screen to Jane. “I’m locked in a beautiful house of mirrors.”

“Every house has its exit, though.”

Jane looked like she understood. And she did, a little. But she had only been in this family for a few years. I had been trying to find that exit my entire life.

“They do,” I agreed as I stepped into my shift dress. “But every time I think I’ve found a way out, it’s just another mirror. And then somehow it smashes.”

Jane looked like she wanted to say something else, but before she could, there was a knock on the door. We turned to find Eric entering just as I was stepping out from behind the screens.

“Are you two about done?” he asked. “Because look who showed up. I invited him for lunch.”

He stepped aside to reveal Matthew stepping into the room.

“Zola!” Jane cried as she immediately engulfed him in a hug. “We haven’t seen you for months. How are you? Is everything all right?”

Matthew returned her embrace, but his eyes darted immediately to me. Full of warmth, and love, and…sadness?

Oh, dear.

“I’m good, Jane. I’m all right.”

She released him, and he rubbed the back of his neck. It was then I noticed he was dressed in a suit instead of the more casual fare I’d grown accustomed to over the last several months. This one was a beautiful gray-blue gabardine, with a navy tie and a crisp white shirt. A far cry from the dull black pants he typically wore to the bar, or the less formal chinos and sweaters he wore when we were able to sneak away to see each other during the day. He had gone somewhere important today.

“Nina,” he greeted me with a nod. “Nice to see you again.”

Jane looked eagerly between us with that same expression she’d worn since we had returned from Italy. We hadn’t told anyone of our engagement—or even that we were involved, thinking it would be best not to risk it for everyone’s sake during the trial. But now it was over. Wasn’t it?

“It’s nice to see you too, Matthew,” I said. “Jane, would you mind zipping me up?”

“I’ll do it.”

Matthew quickly crossed the room and turned me around, his hands firm at my waist. His fingers danced up my back ever-so-briefly before he pulled my zipper closed.

“There,” he murmured as his fingers drifted down my shoulders. “You’re perfect.”

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