Always the Last to Know by Kristan Higgins Page 0,20

cycling for our TRIATHLON together! I can’t even believe I’ll be doing this. I am a new man because of you!!! Miss you miss you miss you!!!

A series of emojis followed John’s last text. A red heart. A smiley face with heart eyes. A smiley face blowing a kiss. A purple heart. A smiley face with a tongue hanging out. Another red heart.

Then there was the abundance of exclamation points. The words in capital letters. The acronyms (I had had to look up IKR, which stood for “I know, right?”). The poor comma usage and use of the letter U instead of the onerous three-letter word. I might not have set the academic world on fire, but for Pete’s sake.

Clearly, John had been going through a second puberty.

“My God,” Caro said, handing the phone back. “I—I don’t know what to say, except let’s kill the bastard.” Her cheeks got red the way they always did when she was mad.

“Well,” I said. “The wife is always the last to know. Isn’t that what they say?”

It was two days after John’s accident. Caro stopped by after getting the message that John was in the hospital, and (unfortunately) still alive. The girls were at the hospital . . . Well, Sadie was. Hopefully Juliet was home right now, getting a little TLC from Oliver and the girls.

“Fuck him,” Caro said, throwing up her hands. “How dare he have a mistress! Fuck him, Barb!”

“Apparently, ‘WORK’”—I used air quotes—“is fucking him plenty.” It felt strange to curse. Kind of good, too. I’d read an article that said people who cursed were more honest. All those years of saying heck and gosh darn . . . they were over now.

“Are you okay?” Caro asked. “You seem so . . . calm.”

“Well, you know, he’s most likely dying.”

“I hope he does.” Caro covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.”

“I hope so, too.”

We were quiet a minute.

Thank God for Caro, a friend for so long, privy to just about all the issues and troubles and joys I had ever had. She was the only one who knew how hard it had been for me to get pregnant with Juliet. She was the one I called in shock when I found out about my pregnancy with Sadie. The one who’d consoled me when I dropped Juliet off at Harvard, so proud and devastated at the same time. Caro had been my campaign manager for my run for first selectman—Barb Frost for Stoningham: The Name You Trust.

Caro was also the only one who knew I had been planning to file for divorce.

“So let’s text her back,” Caro said, taking a sip of the bourbon she’d brought over, good friend that she was.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

The last few texts were, obviously, from WORK, since John had been too busy having a hole drilled in his head. There was some joke in there, but I wasn’t in the mood.

WORK: Babe, haven’t heard from U. U OK? Love U and miss U!

Thinking of U and us and the way we are together. Miss U!

Starting to worry. Is it HER? Pls call me. ♥ ♥ ♥ x 10000000!!!

“‘Is it her?’” I read. “That would be me, I’m guessing.”

“Answer her. Just to buy time for when you can think of what you want to say.”

“And say what? ‘Hey there. This is John’s wife. You can have him. By the way, he’s brain damaged.’”

Caro snorted. “Sounds good to me.”

I sighed and let my head rest against the back of the couch. “This would really hurt the girls. Sadie especially. She thinks her dad walks on water.”

“So tell her. Take no prisoners.”

“Would you tell the boys?”

“In a heartbeat.” That was probably a lie. Caro and Rich, her ex, had divorced with grace and humor, and I still didn’t understand how they’d pulled it off. Those two still had dinner together once a month. Caro went to his wedding, for heaven’s sake!

That’s what I’d been hoping for, if not expecting. An amicable divorce where we still saw each other on the holidays. If he wanted someone else, I wouldn’t have cared, not once the divorce was final.

It was the deceit that had my panties in a twist, as the young people said. He’d cheated on me. Had there been other women? Was WORK the first time he’d had an affair?

I’d probably never know, would I?

I closed my eyes. The bourbon made a nice warm spot in my chest, and after two nights without sleep, I could