Always (31 page)

“Surprise,” she said weakly. “Grace couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” Hiding behind Grace was a low blow, but she wasn’t as confident about her own reception. She bounced Grace on her hip gently and smiled.

“You said tomorrow,” he said helplessly.

“Yeah, but I came early.” Justine was starting to get annoyed. So she’d come twelve hours early. If it made such a huge difference to him, they had bigger problems than she’d realized.

Ian stayed frozen by the entrance to the kitchen, and Justine still stood in the doorway with Grace on her hip, not ready to come all the way inside. An unfamiliar voice called from the back of the apartment, shattering the tense stand-off in the living room.

“Ian, I just remembered, I have this eight o’clock interview at the mayor’s office. I’ve got all my research documents back at my place, so I should probably go back there tonight—”

A woman appeared from the darkened hall leading to the bedroom, pulling her long blond hair free from the collar of her suit jacket, as if she’d just slipped it back on. Justine watched her, this oblivious woman who’d destroyed her world by simply walking into the room.

The blond looked up at Ian and instead saw Justine and Grace, still standing in the open doorway, and she froze in horror. Justine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her blood was rushing in her head, a deafening roar in her ears. She wanted to scream, cry, lash out, beat the hell out of that woman. But Grace was still in her arms. When she opened her eyes, she turned to Meggie, standing stricken behind her.

“Meggie, can you take Grace back down to the car?”

Meggie nodded and reached for Grace, her pity and worry evident in her eyes, even though she wasn’t going to say a word. Justine didn’t want to face this but that wasn’t an option anymore. She needed to, no matter how much it hurt.

She waited for Meggie and Grace to disappear down the hall before she turned back to Ian. No one had moved, although she interrupted a frantic glance between Ian and the woman.

“I think she’d better leave now,” Justine said evenly.

“Justine—” Ian took a step towards her, hand outstretched and she snapped.

“Get her the fuck out of here, Ian!”

“Just go,” he murmured to her, the nameless blond. “I’ll call you later.”

He’d call her? Her??

The woman kept her eyes averted as she snatched her coat and purse off the couch. She glanced up at Justine awkwardly as she approached the door, since Justine was still blocking the exit.

Justine let out a bitter laugh and took a step back.

“Sorry you had to actually face the wife and baby. How terribly awkward for you.”

She stopped, her expression a complex mix of guilt and anger.

“Justine, stop it!” Ian rushed across the room towards her. “Come in so we can talk.”

“Talk?
Talk?
” She heard her voice rising, and the ring of hysteria around the edges, but she couldn’t help it. Her control was unraveling by the second. “What are we going to talk about, Ian? The woman you just fucked? Because I don’t think I want to hear about it!”

“Don’t,” he snapped.

“Don’t what?”

He winced. “Just… don’t talk about her like that.”

Justine reared back in shock. “I can’t believe this. Your wife and baby walked in on you fucking some other woman and you’re concerned about
her
delicate sensibilities?”

“I’m in love with her!” he shouted.

The silence was deafening as Justine blinked at him in disbelief.

Finally, she managed to whisper, “You’re
what
?”

Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I love her,” he muttered.

Justine was lost. Sex was one thing. She’d been on the road. As a couple, they’d been stressed. A slip, some meaningless sex with a stranger, was something she could almost wrap her brain around, even if it hurt like crazy. What Ian said, it violated everything she thought she knew about him, her marriage, their family… She staggered back to lean against the door, not sure if she could even hold herself up.

“I’m sorry, Justine. I wasn’t looking for this. I didn’t plan it. Sarah and I spent so much time working together and it just happened—”

Justine glanced at the blond—at
Sarah
— this woman Ian had
fallen in love with.
Tiny facts began falling into place. Sarah, the fellow reporter with the amazing contacts. Sarah, who got him the invite to the Peabodys. Sarah, who was apparently worthy of standing at his side that night when she was nothing but an embarrassment to him. The betrayal, the pain of it, was nearly physical, stealing her breath, turning her body cold.

Sarah swallowed and took a step closer to Ian, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m sorry you found out this way, but Ian’s right. Neither one of us meant for this to happen.”

This woman, this
stranger
, was standing next to her husband like she belonged there. She looked like she did. And suddenly Justine felt like the outsider. She’d been neatly turned out of her own marriage in a matter of minutes. No, not minutes. Falling in love wasn’t the work of a moment. How long? How long had he been falling in love with Sarah while Justine struggled to hold them together? The thought made her sick. She felt like a fool, a stupid, naive fool. She was
pissed
.

“Well. I guess I’m the one who should go, then,” she said, turning away while she still could without falling apart.

“Justine, you can’t just leave like this. We need to talk.”

“Talk to my fucking lawyer,” she said, without looking back. “You and I are done.”

April, 2013

With a groan, Justine pushed her laptop away and reached for her coffee mug. She made a face when she found it had gone cold, and got up for a refill.

“Something wrong?” Emily asked, coming into the kitchen with Grace on her hip. Grace had a set of plastic keys on a ring in one fist and a graham cracker in the other. She was taking turns stuffing the two into her mouth. Emily grabbed a paper towel and attempted to wipe the worst of the graham cracker mess off her face.

“Just more emails from the lawyers. Getting divorced is a pain. I don’t recommend it.”

Emily chuckled. “Since I don’t have any immediate plans to get married, I think I’m safe.”

“Lucky you,” Justine groused. She smoothed a hand over Grace’s wispy dark hair and pressed a kiss to her head, inhaling her warm baby smell, reminding herself what was really important. Grace wiggled and squirmed in Emily’s grip.

“I can take her, Emily,” Meggie said, coming into the kitchen, arms outstretched. “I was about to take her for a walk anyway.”

“Do you want to go with them?” Emily asked Justine.

Justine eyed her computer and scowled. On the one hand, she wanted to. Getting out with Gracie, maybe taking her to the playground, would take her mind off the ugliness in her inbox. On the other, she didn’t want the hassle of the paparazzi. Meggie could take Grace out without turning a single head. If Justine was with them, pictures of her pushing the baby on the swings were all over the Internet the next day. She was used to the attention, but she didn’t like to subject Grace to it any more than necessary. “Maybe this afternoon. You can go if you want, though.”

Emily waved Meggie out. “Nah, I’ll park it here with you.” She slid onto a kitchen stool across the counter from Justine and moved a box of muffins closer. “Maybe you need one of these to make you feel better.”

Justine smiled weakly and took one, pulling it apart with her fingers.

“Is Ian being a dick?”

“Not particularly. I mean, outside of the whole falling-in-love-with-another-woman part. He’s not being crazy about the money or anything. He took the settlement the lawyers proposed without a fight, so I guess I should be grateful.”

“You don’t have to feel grateful about your marriage ending. You’re allowed to feel how you feel.”

“I feel stupid.”

“Stupid? Why?”

“Just…” Justine raised her hands and then dropped them again. “There I was, trying so hard to keep us going and all the time, he was already gone. In love with someone else. How could I have not noticed it?”

Emily reached across the counter and grabbed her wrist. “You didn’t notice because he kept it a secret, Justine. All that bullshit about ‘it just happened.’ Sleeping with someone who is not your wife doesn’t just happen. This is on him, not you.”

“Nothing is ever all one person.”

“You had nothing to do with him and Sarah.”

“No, not that part. But me and Ian? We were already in trouble before she happened. And that was partly me.”

“How so?”

Justine shrugged, eyes on the muffin she was destroying. She’d spent most of the past two months hurt and furious, but it couldn’t last forever. As she began to let go of some of it, she’d also begun to re-examine her whole relationship with Ian from the beginning, looking for answers.

“Sometimes I wonder if he was a rebound for me.”

“From Dillon, you mean?”

Justine nodded tightly. “I was such a mess after the tour, and everything that came after. Not just how I felt about Dillon, either. It was the drinking, Ash’s drugs, all of it. My career took off and overnight, there was almost no one I could trust. Ian showed up and he had nothing to do with any of it. I already knew him from before, so he seemed… safe. Like I could trust his intentions. Maybe I grabbed on to him and used him to escape everything else.”

“But you loved him.”

She sighed, feeling the dull throb of pain the thought instigated. Not lethal anymore, but still there. “I did.”

“Then you weren’t using him. Maybe you threw yourself into a relationship with him a little faster than you might otherwise have done, but the feelings were real.”

“They were. And then Grace happened. Maybe getting married so fast was a mistake. We should have waited.”

“Justine, I love you, but stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to find the one wrong choice you made. You can’t undo it anyway, and in the end, you’re still where you are. Leave the past in the past and move on from here.”

Justine thought about it for a minute. Maybe Emily was right. After all, even if she figured out where it had all gone wrong, it wouldn’t change the outcome. And really, what was so awful about where she was now? Yes, her husband had left her for another woman, but without Ian she’d never have Gracie, who was the light of her life. And her career, although it had caused all kinds of fractures in her marriage, was successful beyond her wildest dreams. Even if she stopped performing tomorrow, she had plenty of money to last the rest of her life. She had perfect little Grace. She had Emily and her parents. She still had Dillon. In short, life was good, in spite of her failed marriage. And she’d get over that eventually. She’d gotten over heartbreak once before and come out swinging. She’d do it again.

“You’re right, I know.”

“Of course I am. You’ll be okay. If anybody could come out of a divorce even better than before, it’s you.”

Justine laughed. “Older and wiser, maybe, but better? We’ll see.”

“Yes, we will. And I predict the best is yet to come for you.”

“I hope so. It would be dismal to think it’s all downhill from here.”

“It’s just the start of a new era. Nobody’s life is about one thing. I mean, look at Dillon. What did you call it once? His second act? It’s brilliant.”

Justine smiled, thinking about Dillon’s recent success as a producer. It was much lower-profile than his old life in the band, but in a way, he was doing better than he ever had. He was quickly becoming one of the most sought-after producers in the business.

“Speaking of Dillon,” Emily said as she slid off the barstool, “I invited him over for dinner tonight.”

“You did? My Dillon?”

Emily laughed. “Your Dillon? I beg your pardon, but as close as he’s gotten to our dad, he belongs to the whole family now. Is it okay that I asked him?”

“Of course,” Justine said. “He practically lives here as it is.”

Emily watched her sister for a moment, thinking. “Yep, he sure does,” she murmured.

Justine looked up. “What?”

Emily shrugged. “ I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Dillon. And you.”

“What about us? Emily, quit hinting and spit it out.”

“Do you ever get the feeling Dillon feels more for you than friendship?”

Justine dropped her eyes back to her laptop and squirmed uncomfortably, remembering two years ago, the kiss, the moment she and Dillon had never spoken of again. He felt something then, but she’d never been sure what it was and if he still did. Judging from his behavior, he absolutely didn’t.

“No. I mean, you know there’s been the attraction. I think it’s been there since we met. But we’re past all that now. We’re just friends.”

“But—”

“Emily,” she sighed. “Don’t make me worry about something that isn’t there. Once or twice in all the years we’ve known each other something’s maybe almost happened, but it never has, for lots of reasons. And right now? I can’t even think about it. I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

Emily held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry. I was just curious.”

Justine shrugged it off, backing away from a conversation that made her uncomfortable. Her emotional life was in enough turmoil. She wasn’t going to go looking for more.

“I’m going to go catch up to Meggie and Grace at the park,” Emily said. Justine waved her away and turned back to answer the ugly lawyer emails she’d been avoiding all morning.

August, 2013

Dillon pulled up to the gate at the foot of Justine’s driveway, skirting a cluster of fans and a guy with a huge telephoto lens camera. He leaned out of the window and keyed in the security code. He came and went so frequently the photographer didn’t even bother to raise his camera. There was no story with Dillon and all the paparazzi knew it.

He parked at the far edge of the circular drive, trying to leave room for all the other cars there to get out around him. If there was one thing he was getting used to about Justine’s reality, it was the people always surrounding her, from Meggie, the live-in nanny, to Ari, her manager, to all the musicians there during the day to work on her album. There was such a crowd in constant attendance at her house, she’d hired a chef to come in and cook for them every day.