Page 22 of The Husband I Left

Chapter 6

Genny

If Oliver’s protestations of innocence were beginning to make me doubt myself in any way, if I was starting to feel even the slightest bit of guilt for the punishments I continued to dish out to him, all of that was put to rest only a few days later.

I’m waiting for Kylie and Evan to join me for lunch. Kylie texted that she was looking for somewhere to park. Evan texted that he was “on his way,” which is Evan speak for “I just rolled out of bed.” I don’t mind waiting. The spring sunshine is warm on my skin, and I adjust my sunglasses and stretch out my legs, reveling in the fact that I feel more like myself lately than I have since I married Oliver. Gone is the clothing carefully chosen for me by Nancy’s stylist. Gone is the sleek, carefully styled hair, the makeup, the perfectly manicured nails. Now my hair hangs down my back in a riot of curls, and I’m dressed for comfort in well worn jeans and an old t-shirt.

I’m just taking a sip of my water when a shadow falls across the table. I glance up and nearly choke on my drink.

Victoria Warren is standing next to my table. She slides into the chair across from me without waiting for an invitation.

“Genevieve,” she says, her voice so sweet it makes my teeth ache. “What a lovely surprise.”

I stare at her over the rim of my sunglasses. “And there goes my appetite,” I mutter, setting down my glass with a slight thunk. “Sorry, this table’s taken.”

“Oh, don’t go, Genevieve. I’ve only just sat down. I thought we could have a little chat.”

“I’d rather not,” I reply, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Frankly, you’re the last person I want to see right now. Or ever.”

“I only want to check in with you.” She folds her hands on the table and tilts her head. “Honestly. I’ve been so worried.”

“You’ve been worried about me,” I repeat flatly.

“Of course, about you.” She lets out a soft little sigh. “After the gala, I just kept thinking, that poor woman. She must have suffered a terrible shock. It’s the only explanation for the way you behaved. You just looked so…” She pauses searching for the right word. “So desperate.”

I roll my eyes. “So you’re here to check on my well-being? Very thoughtful Victoria.”

“It must be so painful,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Realizing that someone else has taken your place in Oliver’s life. I can’t imagine how you felt. I do understand. Truly, I do. It’s nobody’s fault, really. These things just happen.”

It all suddenly clicks into place. “It was you,” I say slowly. “The picture. You sent me that picture.”

Victoria doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. “You needed to know where you truly stood,” she says. “Someone had to tell you. And it certainly wasn’t going to be Oliver. He’s always been too kind for his own good.”

The server chooses that moment to come check if I’m ready to order. He glances between us, clearly sensing the tension, before muttering that he’ll give me some more time and hurrying away. Smart kid.

I pick up my water glass again, examining it with exaggerated interest. “Speaking of Oliver,” I take a small sip, “where has he been lately?”

Victoria’s smile doesn’t waver, but something flickers in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I’m just curious,” I say, knowing full well that Oliver has been spending most of his time since the gala following me around like a lost puppy. “Since you two are so inseparable, I figured you’d know exactly where he’s been spending his evenings. And mornings. And weekends.”

A tiny line appears between her brows. “Oliver and I don’t need to be in each other’s pockets,” she says, a little too quickly. “We’re secure in what we have together.”

“Mmm,” I hum, enjoying her discomfort. “If you say so. It must be so hard though, going from practically joined at the hip to Oliver coming home early. I did mention to him the other night that you were going to start feeling neglected soon, poor thing.”

The look she gives me is almost worth the price of having to look at her face. Almost.

“You’re being childish,” Victoria says, her voice shaking slightly. “Whatever little game you think you’re playing with Oliver—”

“I’m not playing any games,” I cut her off. “I’m just pointing out facts. But please, don’t let me stop you from believing whatever makes you feel better.”

“Oliver and I were meant to be, Genevieve.” She insists. “We always have been. Some things are just inevitable.”

“Is that so?” I muttered. “Well, the two of you are welcome to each other. Honestly. You deserve each other. ”

“We’ve loved each other our whole lives,” she insists, leaning forward

“Uh huh. And he proved this great devotion he has for you by…marrying another woman?”