Chapter 4
Five hours of driving had flattened Charlie, and he went down for a nap the second we got in.
I was about to lie down myself when the doorbell rang.
I got up and opened the door to a woman in a tailored suit, polished from her heels to the part in her hair.
"Ms. Hart, we met at the company party last year. Charlotte Evans. I work under Edward," she said.
Of course, I remembered her.
She and Edward had talked all night at that party, and she'd sent Charlie home with an armful of toys.
Charlie remembered her too.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
Charlotte took her time. "Edward mentioned you'd gotten the wrong idea about the two of us, so I came out here to clear it up.
"He didn't pick you up yesterday because I'd asked him first. Lawyers honor the order things are promised in.
"And I'm a germaphobe. A crowded car makes me physically ill. He was accommodating me, which is why he couldn't get you.
"Please don't fight over me. I'm married, my husband does very well, and I'm an attorney myself. Being someone's mistress is beneath me.
"I hear you teach preschool. I'm not sure how much of that you followed."
Charlotte called it clearing things up, but every sentence carried the same message that my husband had chosen her over his own wife and son.
She wanted me to know how respectable her work was, how sharp she was, how well her life had turned out.
In her eyes I couldn't even follow plain English.
Anger never came. "Ms. Evans, Edward and I graduated from the same university. I held a respectable job once. I gave it up for my family and took the teaching post.
"Teaching preschool isn't something I apologize for. Using a law degree to talk down to ordinary people is what shows a lack of class.
"And since you know we're married, keep your distance. You asked him first? If Edward died tomorrow and you'd asked for his estate first, would a court hand it to you?
"You're an attorney. You know what marital property means. Half of that car is mine, so don't trample my rights and then preen about it on my doorstep.
"Push me, and your very successful husband gets a full account of everything you said here."
Charlotte hadn't expected the preschool teacher to hit back that cleanly.
She let out a short, cold laugh.
She turned in the doorway before she left, still smiling.
"One more thing you should know. I was Edward's first love. If I'd wanted him, I'd have had him years ago. You were never in the running."
For a moment I couldn't hear anything past my own pulse.
Edward had never mentioned a first love to me.
All those years I'd assumed he'd simply never dated anyone, that loving a person was a language he'd never learned.
That afternoon I called Michael Reed, who'd run with Edward all through college.
"Susan, you didn't know? I figured you did. Edward had a first love, Charlotte Evans. Gorgeous. He delivered takeout a whole year to buy her a designer bag, brought her food every day, skipped meals to buy her flowers.
"Shame about it. Charlotte was in it for money, and she ended up with some rich kid instead.
"Edward used to be the loudest guy in the room. After she left, he shut the door and never opened it again. If you hadn't come along, he'd have died a bachelor."
It had never crossed my mind that my husband had once loved someone that hard.
Everything he'd done for Charlotte, he'd never once done for me.