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“Ha, I’m a lawyer, so I’m supposed to ask questions.” June angles her head to a side as she studies me. “Did they live in the mansion?”

“What do you mean? Of course. They own it.”

“I understand that, but I mean, did they stay there with you, or were you there by yourself most of the time?” June picks up a cookie and takes a large bite.

I consider her question carefully.

“Like I said, Junie, Tom and Gabriel were mostly there, except in the mornings when they would go into the Manhattan office.”

“And nights?” She raises her eyebrows at me.

“Both Tom and Gabriel were home pretty much every night.” I frown. “Well, most nights.”

“Go on,” June eats the second half of her cookie, leaning toward me to listen more closely.

“Well, some nights they’d stay in Manhattan, but I never thought too much of it. I guess I just assumed it had to do with business. I mean, they are billionaires and in charge of a powerful conglomerate. I thought they might be staying in the city so they could avoid the long commute the next day.”

At the realization of my own naïveté, my tears start up anew. Within seconds, I’m sobbing, my whole body shaking with the effort. “Oh my god,” I manage to croak, the full force of my naïveté hitting me in that moment. “They were with their wives when they stayed in the city. How could I be so dumb?”

My friend immediately soothes me.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t be so hard on yourself, Michelle,” June murmurs, rubbing a hand up and down my arm. “You didn’t suspect.”

“But I should have known,” I blurt out between heaving sobs. “I was soooo stupid.” Another wail. “Of course, they were in the city to see their wives. Why didn’t I see? They probably have dozens of kids each, and I’m just the side piece.” I drop my head into my hands, not caring that my face is beet red or that I’m a disgusting mess.

My heart is broken.

“You’re not stupid, Mich. A lot of powerful couples live apart – it’s really common, especially with rich people.” June says, trying to comfort me.

Slowly, I lift my eyes to look at my sweet friend.

“It’s common?” I blubber through my tears, feeling mortified for my ignorance in this area. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah. A lot of them have several houses, usually in the Hamptons, and some even have more than one apartment in the city. It’s kind of weird, but do you remember some of our clients at Draper Peabody? I think some of them were swingers, or they swapped spouses. They didn’t really have normal marriages at all. So maybe to them, having a mistress really isn’t that far-fetched.”

June smiles softly and hands me another cookie. I take the dessert, but I don’t have the heart to tell June that her information is actually making me feel even more depressed. Unfortunately, my astute friend quickly catches on.

“Sorry. I just made it worse, didn’t I?” I nod and she sighs.

“Don’t blame yourself. I guess I just had no idea that rich people were so freaking weird. Or so blasé about relationships. I mean, spouse swapping? Sharing a woman whom you’ve bought? That’s supposed to be normal?”

Once again, I feel like a profound idiot for my lack of sophistication. I grew up in a lower-middle class home. My parents met in high school and got married right after. Neither of my parents has ever cheated on the other, and divorce has always been out of the question. We’ve never even known anyone who would engage in such dirty, filthy practices.

Hell, I think miserably, I was ‘purchased’ by Tom and Gabriel. That should have been the first sign that they weren’t like other men I’ve known.

I’m jolted from my reverie by the sound of the intercom buzzer blaring in the small studio.

“That must be the Chinese food,” I say and start to get up.

“No it’s okay, I’ll grab it. Just relax a little.” June smiles at me gently and I smile back, grateful to have her company. She unfolds her long body and goes to the door to press the buzzer to let the delivery guy up.

“I’m starving,” I realize, eager for something more substantial than dessert. She smiles gently.

“Same. Lo main is going to be so good for us both right now. With lots of MSG, hopefully. I need as many chemicals I can get, whether legal or illegal.”

My friend makes me giggle despite myself, when there’s a sharp knock at the door. June opens it with a smile, but then stands stock still, her pretty face going ashen.

“Junie? Lo mein? Chicken fried rice?” I call from the bedroom.

Silence. Then she gurgles something and my brow wrinkles in confusion.

“Everything okay, Junie?” I call again. “I have money if you need it.”

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