the table. That was strange. Brad had a dinner party here tonight and it would probably last pretty late, yet he still had plans for after. Lily thought about all the late night calls and trips back to the office. No one named Ashley worked at the office, not that she knew of. And what about the xoxo? Her stomach tightened as she dropped the phone back on the table and returned to the meal. Lily warmed her hands over a simmering pot of lobster bisque. It was a particularly cold December for southern California, and the thick soup would take care of that. She stirred the soup, trying not to turn back to the phone.
Perhaps she should take a peek at the second message? She wandered back to the table and turned the iPhone over in her hand. The phone never left Brad’s side unless he was asleep, and even then it was at his bedside. It was not her style to go through his things, but… She pressed the power button and the IMs popped up. She expanded the screen to get a closer look at the photo. A statuesque woman smiled out at her. She looked like she just stepped out of the pages of Vogue: white-blonde hair accented high cheekbones and kohl-lined sapphire eyes. Not a day over twenty-five, Lily thought, studying the black suede boots and body-hugging sweater. Two fingers were raised to her lips, as if to send a kiss.
“See you tonight,” was all it said.
Lily scrolled back, amazed by the long list of previous messages from the same woman. Each was inviting; some thanked him for a great night, others promised favors to come. Her mind swirled as her heart picked up its beats. Mindlessly, she started to count the messages, twenty, thirty, fifty. When she reached over a hundred in less than a month, she stopped counting. She had seen enough. All these weeks with him never around, too busy to deal with her, judging every move she made. He must have been out with this woman.
She placed the phone back on the table. The marriage had been ending for a long time, she just hadn’t wanted to face it. But this still hurt, like being sliced open with one of her razor-sharp kitchen knives. One by one, she turned off the burners then washed her knives and placed them back in their cases.
The sound of Brad’s Porsche speeding up the front drive caused her to flinch. Lily slid into her shoes and threw off the apron.
Footsteps resounded in the hall before Brad rushed into the kitchen holding the champagne. “I only managed to find two bottles. If you had done what I asked—”
Lily held up his iPhone. “You have some messages.”
He snatched it from her hands and checked the screen.
“Too late, Brad, I’ve already read them,” she said.
“How dare you, Lily.”
“How dare you,” she said, holding her ground. She pointed to the half-cooked items on the stove and counter. “You better call your important client and arrange to take him out to dinner, because I won’t be catering your meals anymore.”
She watched his face morph from anger to bargaining. All she wanted was to get away from him before he saw her burst into tears. A hundred plus text messages. Why had she counted them all?
“Let me explain, Lily, you’re over-reacting, it’s nothing…”
“Save it, Brad,” she said, pushing past him, heading toward the front door.
“Wait,” he said, following behind. “Ashley is our new corporate attorney; we’re planning a merger.”
“I bet you are,” Lily said, beginning to laugh. “The xoxo merger, right? Either get out of my way or you leave.”
He put his arms out to her, his eyes pleading forgiveness. “It’s you I love, Lily, from the first day I saw you.”
“Right, the first day you saw me and realized what a moldable pawn I would make!”
“Alright,” he said, pulling out his keys. “Just know, this is your choice.”
Lily stood in the foyer and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Hands freezing, body rigid, an unreal quality took over as she watched her husband walk out the front door and slam it behind him. The sound of Brad’s Porsche screeching out the driveway sent a quiver up her spine. Her legs gave way as she crumpled onto the cold marble floor. Immobile, she glared at the oversized carved wooden door. Another ostentatious, unattractive, overbearing piece of décor Brad had chosen. It had been alternately her fortress and her prison,