The Affair (32 page)

They drank their tea in silence.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past few days,” Kathy continued, “and there were times when I hated you. Absolutely despised you. I wanted to know if you were seducing him just because you could, like it was some sort of game, or . . .”

“It wasn’t like that,” Stephanie said urgently.

“Then what was it like? What gave you the right?”

“You did. You gave me the right,” Stephanie snapped.

Kathy looked at her blankly.

“When you pushed him away, pushed him out of your life. Then I allowed myself to be interested in him.”

Kathy opened her mouth to respond, but Stephanie held up a hand.

“And then I fell in love with him.” Stephanie took a deep, shuddering breath. “And that changed everything.”

Kathy felt her stomach churn. It was hard to sit there and listen to this woman talk about loving her—
her
—husband. “Maureen said she’d seen you together. She told me that she thought you were in love with him.”

Stephanie shrugged. “It just happened. I didn’t plan it.”

Kathy pressed on as if she hadn’t heard Stephanie. “And I remembered why I had fallen in love with him. He was very charming.”

Stephanie nodded.

“And he was gentle and hapless, and he made me laugh. And he was passionate. So passionate about his work. He had such dreams.”

“He still has,” Stephanie whispered.

“He doesn’t tell me anymore.”

“Why not?” Stephanie asked, and she was genuinely curious now.

“I don’t know. When I left R&K to raise the children, I guess he assumed that I’d no further interest in the business. He no longer saw me as a business partner, only as a wife and mother. He stopped telling me what he was doing, stopped asking my advice. I was bringing up two young children. He had no idea how exhausting that was—still is. He was leaving early in the morning, coming home later and later at night. I had the sole responsibility for raising the kids twenty-four hours a day. By the time he got home, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

Stephanie stood up and took Kathy’s empty cup and her own. She returned to the kitchen to fill them. Was it only last night she’d been thinking about having a child with Robert? How would that affect their relationship? How would he regard her once the child was born?

Robert had never really talked to Stephanie about his relationship with his kids. He’d simply spoken about them in a general way, but she’d never realized just how much of the parenting responsibilities had fallen to Kathy. When she was together with Robert, their relationship was entirely a selfish one: They concentrated on one another. She’d never really thought about his children.. . . What would happen to them when he left? What would they think of her?

She returned to the living room with two fresh cups.

Kathy tore open a packet of Stevia and watched the crystals disappear into her tea.

“I’ve no sugar,” Stephanie said.

“I prefer sweetener,” Kathy remarked. “I’m trying to cut down.”

“Robert prefers sugar,” Stephanie said, “but I deliberately don’t keep it in the house. It’s so bad for him.”

“I know,” Kathy said coldly. Every time Stephanie spoke about Robert in a personal way, she had to bite back her temper.

“How did you find me?”

“Your address was in Robert’s phone. I came by here the other night; I needed to see where you lived.”

“Oh, so you were the woman with the mysterious Christmas present.”

“That was me.”

“What were you looking for?”

“Proof. Plus, I wanted—needed—to see you and Robert together.”

“And when you did . . .”

“You reminded me of how we used to look. Happy. Holding hands, kissing, content with one another, relaxed. Just . . . happy.”

“I’m sorry about what’s happened . . .” Stephanie began, and she was genuinely sorry.

“You didn’t destroy our marriage,” Kathy said bitterly. “We just drifted. If there’s blame to be laid, then it can be laid at both doors.”

“You never found yourself a lover?” Stephanie said with a wry smile.

Kathy laughed. “Not with two children. How can I have an affair when I have to deal with carpool and piano lessons and soccer practices? An affair needs lots of free time, opportunity, and commitment to make it work. I had precious little of any of those because I have children and a husband. And because I’m not you.”

“Wait a minute—”

“Look, I’ve gone beyond blaming you personally; I think that if he hadn’t had an affair with you, then it would have happened with someone else.”

Stephanie blinked in shock and drew back a little. She recalled her own flickering fears about Illona and the way she looked at Robert. “You mean . . .”

“I mean if he was withdrawing from me and wanted comfort or companionship, then he would have taken it anywhere he could.” She was unable to resist adding, “You just happened to be . . . convenient. The mistake Robert made was placing the job before his family; the mistake I made was allowing him to.”

Stephanie stared at her numbly. Was what Kathy was saying true? Was there the possibility that Robert would have had a relationship with anyone, or rather, any available person?

“When I discovered that you were sending business his way, I even began to rationalize his relationship with you, saying it was purely business. Then I hated myself for thinking that he’d sleep with you just to get some work for the company.”

Stephanie opened her mouth to reply, but said nothing. That thought—that bitter, foul thought—had crossed her mind on too many occasions, even before Izzie had voiced it. She licked dry lips, and her voice was husky when she spoke. “Well, that’s not going to happen anymore. My boss has given me orders that R&K is not to get any more contracts from us.”

Kathy sat back into the chair, absorbing the news. “Does Robert know?” she asked eventually.

“I told him last night.”

“How did he take it?”

Stephanie’s smile was humorless. “He wasn’t pleased.”

“What are the implications of that decision?”

“If he doesn’t get his act together and get more work very soon, then the company might go under.”

“It might be a good thing if it did,” Kathy said, surprising Stephanie with her passion. “Maybe if he could get a simple nine-to-five job, it would simplify things. He works too hard. In many ways, that’s at the root of all this.”

“I suggested the very same thing to him last night.”

“I bet he wasn’t happy about that either.”

Stephanie shook her head, a ghost of a smile curling her lips. “He looked like I’d just hit him.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that expression,” Kathy agreed. “Quite recently in fact, when I suggested I’d go back into the business with him now that the kids are older. My husband doesn’t have much of a poker face.”

Stephanie said nothing; she didn’t want to tell this woman that only last night—probably only moments before Kathy had spotted them kissing—they had been talking about having children together.

There was a long moment of uneasy silence. Finally, Kathy spoke. “When was he going to tell me?”

“After Christmas,” Stephanie said shortly. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with Kathy’s presence in the house. She wanted her out; she wanted time to think.

“Was he going to move out?” Kathy wondered.

“He said he was going to spend New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day with me.”

“That’s not quite the same thing as moving out.” Kathy got up and stood by the window, staring out across the courtyard.

“No, it’s not.” Stephanie stood and folded her arms across her chest. “Kathy, I want you to know that I was the one who forced him to come to a decision about us. We’ve been involved for eighteen months, and serious for about six of those—or at least, I’ve been serious. I wasn’t so sure of Robert. I was tired of the uncertainty and the insecurity. I told him to choose. I had a feeling that, left to his own devices, he’d have allowed things to drift on and on.”

“He always did have a hard time making decisions.” Kathy looked over her shoulder, a peculiar expression on her face. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do.” Stephanie was unable to resist snapping back with, “Do you?”

Kathy turned back to the window. She could see Stephanie reflected in the glass. She had thought about this question long and hard, asked it again and again, because, in the end it came back to this one simple question: Did she love him? Even after all he’d done, even after the pain of the last few days?

“Yes.”

The word hung in the air between the two women.

She turned to look at Stephanie. “Would I be here if I didn’t?”

There were tears in both their eyes now, and they were staring at one another with intensity. This conversation should not have gone this way; Kathy should have shouted at Stephanie, called her names, and walked away. Stephanie should have watched the wife drive away and felt victorious. Right now, both women were experiencing the same emotion: fear.

Stephanie felt her heart begin to trip. Her mouth turned to cotton. Kathy couldn’t love him . . . didn’t love him . . . Robert had told her that Kathy didn’t love him . . . but was that what Robert believed or what he wanted Stephanie to believe? She unfolded her arms and reached down to touch the back of the chair, feeling that if she didn’t grip onto something she was going to fall.

“I still love him.” Kathy swung back from the window. “Despite what he’s done. He is my husband. My children’s father.”

Stephanie was standing frozen by the chair, staring intently at Kathy, horrified by what she was hearing. She was listening to a woman in love. In love with the same man she loved.

“He’s betrayed me, betrayed eighteen years of marriage, betrayed his children who idolize him. I don’t want to keep him out of spite, like Jimmy Moran’s wife. If he wants to go, if he truly wants to go, if he is so desperately unhappy with me, then I love him enough to let him go. There’s no point in asking Robert what he wants to do; he’ll only tell me what he thinks I want to hear. . . .”

Stephanie was nodding.

“So, let me ask you. Do you want him? Do you want him so badly that you want to take him from me?”

Stephanie felt the room sway around her. Kathy wasn’t supposed to love him. That’s what she’d always believed, right from the very beginning, from six years ago: Kathy didn’t care for Robert. Didn’t love him.

But Kathy did.

And Stephanie did.

Stephanie loved him with all her heart, loved him because he was kind and gentle, made her laugh, cared for her, looked after her, was thoughtful, considerate, and had asked her to marry him.

And Stephanie had allowed herself to fall in love with him because she firmly believed that he was available. She believed that his wife no longer loved him.

Would he have made the same offer to Stephanie if he thought otherwise? Would he have had an affair with her if he thought that Kathy still had feelings for him?

She didn’t want to think he would have.

It was easier—much easier—to believe that Robert had betrayed Kathy almost by accident than to accept that he’d gone out to have an affair with someone who might be able to send extra business his way.

Stephanie took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. How would Kathy react if she knew that Robert had asked her to marry him?
He’ll only tell me what he thinks I want to hear.
Was that what had happened on Saturday? Had Robert been lying to her?

As he’d lied to Kathy?

No, he hadn’t, he couldn’t. This was the man she loved, the man who said he loved her. The man who wanted to marry her. That was the truth.

“Do you want him?” Kathy asked the question again. “Do you want him so bad that you want to take him from me?”

The doorbell rang before Stephanie could answer Kathy.

T
he door opened just as he hit the bell for the second time. Behind the brightly wrapped Christmas presents, the helium balloon, and the bunch of flowers, Robert Walker brushed past Stephanie with a cheery “Merry Christmas, sweetheart!” and bolted up the stairs into the living room.

He stopped in surprise. There was a woman standing with her back to him, outlined against the window.

“Oh, hi. You must be Izzie . . . ,” he began.

And then she turned to face him.

T
here are moments etched in the memory.

Moments of passion, of pain, victory, and terror. Especially terror. When all else fades, the fear remains. When Robert Walker strode into Stephanie Burroughs’s living room and found his wife waiting for him, he experienced one of those moments that he knew, instantly and instinctively, he would carry with him to his grave.

His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t draw breath. It was as if he had been punched in the stomach, and his heart started beating so hard he was sure it was going to burst.

There was movement behind him, and Stephanie came into the room, stepping around him to stand by the kitchen.

Robert looked from Kathy to Stephanie and back again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. A score of reasons, excuses, and stupid possibilities flashed through his head in a single moment.

Until only the truth remained.

Kathy knew.

And that brought with it an extraordinary sense of relief.

No more sneaking around, no more furtive phone calls, no more clandestine meetings. No more lies.

“Kathy . . . ,” he began.

Kathy crossed the room in two quick strides, stepped up to him, and slapped him hard enough across the face to rock his head back. She’d never intended to hit Stephanie, but she’d always known she was going to strike him. That was never in doubt. Her hand stung, and she relished the blow.

Robert backed away from Kathy and turned to Stephanie for support, but the strange look on her face kept him away from her also. “You—you told her,” he finally said to Stephanie.

“You see,” Kathy said conversationally, not looking at him. “He never accepts responsibility. It’s always someone else’s fault.”

Stephanie folded her arms across her chest and nodded. She’d noticed that in Robert before. Abruptly, with the two of them here in the same room, she felt like an outsider in her own home.

Robert looked from one woman to the other. “Well, she must have called you, brought you here, how else . . .”

“How else, Robert?” Kathy snapped. “Because I’m not as stupid as you seem to think I am. And you’re not as clever as you believe you are.”

“I think . . . I think . . .” Robert looked around desperately. “I think I should go.”

“No!”
both women said simultaneously.

Unsure of what to do, he put down the Christmas presents and rested the bouquet of flowers on top of them. The balloon floated unnoticed to the ceiling.

Kathy resumed her position on the sofa, and Stephanie collapsed into her usual seat. He stood for a moment, unsure what to do, then sat down on the sofa, as far away from Kathy as possible. He looked from woman to woman, noticed that their expressions and their postures were identical.

“You owe us an explanation,” Kathy said.

“Both of us,” Stephanie said.