Chapter 2
Michael left with Vanessa.
He did not ask whether I could drive home. He did not offer to call me later. He kept one hand at Vanessa's back as he guided her through the dining room, protecting her from the stares my spilled wine had attracted. I stood beside the table until the door closed behind them.
Then I called Daniel.
"Your wife was here with Michael," I said.
Silence.
"Where?"
"Bellamy's."
He arrived twenty minutes later wearing jeans and an untucked shirt, as if he had dressed while running through the house. He stopped when he saw me sitting alone at the table arranged for four. On the phone, I had told him about the necklace, the cuff links, and the way Michael had left with Vanessa.
"Where is she?"
"Michael took her."
"Took her where?"
"I don't know."
Daniel pulled out his phone and called Vanessa. He paced beside the table while it rang. When the call went to voicemail, he immediately tried again.
"Vanessa, call me," he said after the tone. "I don't care where you are. I need to hear you say what is happening."
He ended the call and stared at the screen. I had known Daniel for nine years. He was the person who checked restaurant reservations twice, brought jumper cables on road trips and read every instruction before assembling furniture. I had never seen him without a next step. Now all he could do was call the same number.
"Did she say anything?" he asked.
"She said they could explain."
"But they didn't."
"No."
A server approached slowly, carrying the cake I had ordered three days earlier. White buttercream. Gold lettering. Four names.
Laura & Michael. Daniel & Vanessa.
The server glanced at the empty seats. "Would you still like us to cut this?"
"Yes," I said automatically. "Four slices to go. Actually, Michael doesn't like too much frosting, so his piece should come from the middle. Vanessa will want—"
I stopped.
Vanessa liked the sugared flowers along the edge. Daniel preferred the corner pieces. Michael always claimed he did not want dessert, then ate half of mine in the car. I knew how to divide the cake so everyone received the part they liked.
Even now.
Even after two of them had taken our anniversary dinner and walked out together, I was still preparing their dessert.
Daniel's phone went to voicemail again.
"She said we needed space," he said. "Two weeks ago. I thought she meant fewer dinners, fewer questions. Not this."
The server waited with the knife poised above the icing. Daniel looked at the four names. "How long do you think they've decided our marriages were over?"
"I don't know."
"Vanessa gets to decide she wants to leave. She doesn't get to leave first and make me guess whether I'm still her husband."
I looked at the untouched cake.
"Don't cut it," I told the server.
She lowered the knife. "Would you like it boxed?"
For one more second, I almost said yes.
"No. Take it away."
"Are you sure you don't want to save it for the other two?"
"They already took what they wanted."
The server lifted the cake and carried all four names toward the kitchen.
Daniel watched it disappear.
"Not everything," he said.
I looked at him.
His jaw tightened as his phone remained dark in his hand.
"She also took a decision that was supposed to include me."