Page 23 of The Husband I Left

“It’s all his father’s fault. Thomas has never liked me. He didn’t approve of me as a wife for his precious son. He made it clear that if I didn’t leave, he’d make both our lives hell. So I left. I did what was best for Oliver.”

I clench my fists under the table. “That’s a nice story, but—”

“It’s true,” she insists. “It’s why he… but Genevieve,” she gives me a smile that’s almost pitying. “You don’t know why he married you, do you?”

She’s watching me now with the smug satisfaction of a cat that’s cornered a mouse.

“Oliver was devastated when Thomas chased me away,” she goes on. “Absolutely wrecked. And then when I came back to him…” She presses a hand to her heart. “You should have seen his face. You’d have thought he’d seen a ghost.”

She shrugs one elegant shoulder. “After I left, I don’t think it mattered much to him who he married. I think he wanted to prove something to his father. So he picked the first woman he saw.” She looks me up and down, from my messy curls to my scuffed sneakers and back up again, and she smiles. “And there you were.”

“It must be so horrible,” Victoria continues, relishing every syllable, “to realize that your whole marriage has been a sham. You were always just the rebound, Genevieve.”

I feel something crack inside me, a fault line splitting my heart in two. I think of every kiss, every whispered promise, every night spent wrapped in Oliver’s arms. Had it all been a lie?

Everything that’s happened over the past several months makes a horrible kind of sense now. The way Nancy and Thomas look at Victoria. The whispering. The looks. The humiliation burns so hot I’m surprised I don’t burst into flames where I stand.

Everyone knew. I was the only person in the entire city who didn’t know that I was a consolation prize.

I don’t say anything. I don’t think I could if I tried.

“He’s going to leave you, you know,” Victoria continues in an almost dreamy voice, looking at a point somewhere over my head. “He just needs time. He doesn’t want to hurt you more than—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Victoria, shut up.”

My words seem to jolt her out of whatever daydream she’s conjuring up, and startled, she just stares at me. I lean forward in my chair, looking her straight in the eyes, letting a smirk spread across my face. It feels brittle, like my skin might crack with the effort, but I hold it there.

Victoria’s expression falters slightly. She expected tears, maybe. A scene. Not this.

“Is any of this supposed to surprise me? To upset me?” I ask, my voice coming out steady, almost bored. “You think I didn’t know exactly what kind of man I married? I never expected it to last forever. At least I got my student loans paid out of the deal.”

I almost choke on the lie, but I force myself to keep going.

“Let me tell you something.” I’m so close to her now that I can smell her expensive perfume. “I hope you enjoy your prize, Victoria. Truly. You’ve clearly worked so hard for it.”

“I—”

“But I don’t think you will.” I continue as if she hadn’t spoken. “Because every day you spend with him, he’s going to be thinking about me. Every morning when he wakes up next to you, he’s going to wonder what I’m doing. Every time you two fuck, Victoria, he’s going to close his eyes and think of me.”

Her composure slips again, uncertainty creeping into her eyes.

“Whatever the reason Oliver married me, I know where he’s actually been every night since the gala. He’s been at home with me. Begging for even a scrap of my attention. And by the time I’m done with him, there won’t be a single day you spend together, a single time you go out together, a single event you attend where my shadow won’t hang over both of you.”

She actually blinks.

I straighten up, adjusting my sunglasses. “You’ll never be free of me. Neither of you will.”

Victoria stares at me, her mouth slightly open, for once at a loss for words.

“Enjoy,” I say with a little wave of my fingers before getting up and walking away.

I’ve almost reached my car when I hear someone calling my name. Kylie is hurrying toward me, her face creased with concern. She grabs my arm when she reaches me.

“Was that Victoria?” she asks, glancing back toward the cafe. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I look at her, feeling the mask I’ve been wearing start to crack. My hands are trembling, and I shove them into my pockets so Kylie won’t see.

“Genny?” She squeezes my arm. “Talk to me. What did that bitch say to you?”