Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
As soon as I buckle in, the flight attendant is at my side with a glass of whiskey. I down it instantly and hand the empty one back to her. I’m going to need the liquid courage to get through what I’m about to do. Telling the girls that their parents were divorcing was hard enough. I can’t imagine how I’m going to tell them that their mama is gone.
zara
Three
I feel like I have a raging hangover, like I went on an all night bender and drank myself into a stupor. Honestly, that would be better than having a clear recollection of everything that I saw yesterday. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get the image of Van thrusting his hips into Laura’s assistant. Nor can I get the picture of her face, enjoying every minute while she watched me stand there, watching them, from my mind.
Van called every five minutes for the first hour, every ten for the next, and every twenty after that until he gave up and tried once an hour. He filled my voicemail with what I would consider heartfelt pleas to let him explain, but they’ve all fallen on deaf ears. There isn’t an excuse that I would buy, let alone take as a valid reason as to why he would cheat on me. Of course, the first few messages were the common “it wasn’t what it looked like” which quickly changed to “it just happened.” Nothing like that “just” happens. Messing up a song lyric, forgetting an appointment, or stumbling down the stairs “just” happens. You don’t just happen to decide to cheat on your wife.
Thinking that has me wondering how many other times he’s done this. It’s a question that I want to ask, but don’t want to know the answer. I don’t think I could stomach learning that my husband has been unfaithful throughout my marriage. Once is enough to rip me to shreds.
The house is eerily quiet. Even my heavy footsteps lack an echo against the marble floors. I don’t know if it’s because I’m so used to hearing Van move about the house or knowing that he’d be here somewhere, either watching television or jamming in the studio that we converted the pool house into.
My phone vibrates in my hand with Laura’s number staring back at me. I’m tempted to ignore her call, but she’s persistent like Van and won’t stop until I answer—if I don’t—she’ll show up at my door, demanding to be let in.
“Hello,” I say groggily. It’s unlike me to have a scratchy voice, as I’m very aware of the repercussions if I don’t take care of my vocal cords.
“You sound like shit,” she says, cutting right to the chase.
“I feel like it.”
“Well, I’m not about to make your day any better. I’m fielding calls that you and Van have separated. I really don’t know where people come up with these ludicrous accusations.”
Does she not remember me storming out of her office yesterday demanding that she fire her assistant? “It’s not an accusation,” I tell her as I make my way into the kitchen. “Van is cheating on me with your assistant. I kicked him out.”
“Let him back in, Zara.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and make sure I’m talking to Laura and not Van. “Hold on,” I tell her as I put the phone down and reach for my teakettle while opening the refrigerator for the filtered water. People say boiling water will kill whatever is growing in the water system of California, but I don’t believe them. Once my pot is filled, and the stove is on, I go back to my call.
“I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“You did, you’re choosing to ignore me.”
“My husband was fucking your assistant, and you want me to take him back? Excuse me for being a bit obtuse here, but I have no desire to even speak to Van, let alone have him inside my home. He violated my trust.”
Laura sighs. I can hear her adjusting something in the background, but can’t tell what. For all I know she’s walking to her car and plans to come over to my house to set me straight, except it won’t work. Van knew cheating was a hard limit for me and yet he still went and did it, and showed no remorse or tried to hide the fact that he was cheating on me. He knew I was coming to that meeting and would’ve seen them.
That’s when it dawns on me. Van wanted me to catch him, but why? He’d have to know that I’d kick him out or leave him. My father cheated on my mother, and I never forgave him for tearing our family apart.
“Look,” Laura says. “These things happen.”
“Laura, are you hearing yourself right now? You’re literally telling me that it’s okay that my husband cheated on me.”