The Truth About Ever After (26 page)

Take deep breaths
, I repeated, over and over in my head.
Do not disappoint Jen by making a scene at
this shower.

“I
love my job, Beth,” I said, giving her my best fake smile. “I have no plans to
give it up, even if I had children.”

Beth
stared at me in horror, and I almost laughed out loud. I wondered if she knew a
single woman who had worked after having kids. Hell, she probably didn’t even
know anyone who’d worked after getting married. In the world of Beth and Sarah,
it just wasn’t done.

“Wow,”
she said, trying to cover her dismay with a smile. She ended up looking like
she had just swallowed something sour. “I never realized you were so career
ambitious, Kiki. You must get that from your father.”

It
was subtle, but knowing Beth like I did, it was a slap all the same. My father
wasn’t born into money; he made it on his own. These were the only people in
the world who didn’t see ambition as a
good
thing.

“Probably,”
I said, smiling broadly. “I’m very grateful for it. It makes for a very
balanced, happy life.” I raised my eyebrow a fraction of an inch, issuing a
warning.
I have more than you ever will,
sweetheart
, I thought to myself.
Don’t
you dare mess with
me.

I
saw Beth’s face close up a little bit. “Well,” she said, somewhat stiffly, “I’m
glad you’re happy. I don’t imagine it’s the life for me, but I suppose it would
do for
some
people.”

There
was a time in my life when her words would have sent me crying to the bathroom.
The obvious judgment and disdain in her voice would have cut me like a knife.
But that girl was gone, replaced with the confidence and happiness of good
friends, a loving family, and a kick-ass career.

“Yes,”
I said, my first real smile of the conversation breaking across my face. “It
wouldn’t be the life for
some
people.” I allowed my eyes to flick down across her briefly, my intention
clear.
You could never do what I do. You
would fall flat on your
overly-made-up
little face.

“Nice
talking to you, Beth,” I said, standing up. “I should get back to work now.”

I
walked away from the table, feeling immeasurably proud of myself for the way I
had handled things. I would get through the rest of this shower, because this
was my job and I was good at it. And all the
Sarahs
and
Beths
of the world couldn’t take that away from
me.

Chapter Twenty-six

Eric
was waiting for me in the kitchen when I got home after the shower. I was
surprised; he’d been working Saturdays for weeks now, and usually wasn’t home
until late into the evening. He had removed his tie and unbuttoned his top few
buttons. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, he looked rumpled and tired. The wary
expression on his face put my guard up immediately and I idly wondered if we
were going to fight again. I wasn’t sure I had the energy.

“We
need to talk,” Eric said, and I felt my stomach drop. What now?

“Can
I have a minute first?” I asked. Eric nodded, quiet, and watched as I took off
my heels and my jacket. I walked to the fridge, ready to pour myself a glass of
wine, but decided that wouldn’t help me on the exhaustion front. Instead I put
the kettle on, hoping that tea would soothe me without making me want to go to
sleep.

“What’s
up?” I asked, facing him across the kitchen island.

“My
boss wants me to go to Chicago for a few months.”

I
stared at
him,
feeling shocked, but he gave no further
explanation. “What are you talking about?”

He
sighed. “There’s a project they want me to work on there, some crossover with a
partner’s firm. My boss requested I go.”

“A
few months? How long
is a few
?”

“At
least two,” he said, scratching his neck. “Maybe three.”

“I
don’t believe this,” I muttered, wishing I
would have
gone for the wine after all. “When would you go?”

“Next
week.”

I
just stared at him, having no idea how to react. He was giving me nothing to go
on here, no sign that he was either excited or unhappy.

“How
do you feel about this?” I asked, suddenly irritated with him. Why was that
happening so much lately?

Eric
shrugged. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“Of
course you do—” I started to say, but Eric held up a hand.

“Please
don’t say we can talk to your father,” he said, his voice tight.

“I
wasn’t going to.”

“Well,
good.”

We
stared at each other over the island, neither of us talking. I couldn’t believe
this was happening. He was going to leave for three months? And he didn’t even
have anything to say about it?

“Should
I help you pack then?” I asked, my voice cold. I saw his eyes widen slightly
across the room, but he didn’t respond. Feeling suddenly frustrated beyond
measure, I turned on my heel and stalked out of the kitchen.

“That’s
all you have to say?” he asked, following me into the living room.

“Well,
you
sure as hell don’t seem to have
much to say,” I said, not looking at him. “I have no idea how you feel about
this. Are you pissed? Excited about the opportunity? Happy to be away from me?”

“Real
mature, Kiki,” he muttered.

“Well,
what do you want me to say?” I shot back. “You’re just standing there. You’ve
given me no indication of how you feel.”

“I
feel like shit about it, okay?”

“Okay.”
He didn’t go on and I sighed. “Care to tell me why?”

“Because
I hate my job and I’m fucking trapped. It wouldn’t matter if I wanted to go,
I’d have to do it anyhow. But at least if I go it gives me a chance to prove
that I can do something away from the benefit of my father-in-law.”

I
stared at him, completely lost for words. What was he saying?

Eric
met my eyes and sighed. “The truth, Kiki, is that I’m not happy at work.
Not at all.
Going to work for your father was one of the
biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

I
felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “What are you talking about?” I
whispered.

“I’m
not happy there. I haven’t been.”

“
But… but,
why?”

“Because
every single person in that department thinks I only got the position because
of my wife.”

I
stared at him, feeling cold. “Do they say that?”

Eric
laughed bitterly. “They say enough. It’s implied, every day. No one thinks I
have what it takes to get there on my own.
And then this damn
promotion.
Things haven’t exactly been cheery around the office with the
three guys I passed over for the job.”

“People
will always be bitter when someone else gets the job they want—”

“It’s
more than that. They think I got the promotion because my father-in-law talked
to our manager.”

There
was something in his gaze that I didn’t like, not one bit. “Are you accusing me
of something, Eric?” He didn’t respond. “Well, since you obviously have your
doubts, let me just make it clear that I did not say anything to my father
about that promotion. I can’t tell you whether or not he talked to your
manager, but I will say that I have never known my father to be anything but
professional in all aspects of that company.”

Eric
ran a hand through his hair. “It wouldn’t matter if he came out and said
something or not. The implication is that the managers would give me the easy
track to make the big boss happy.”

I
had no response to that. For all I knew, it was entirely possible. “You’ve felt
this way since you started working there?” He nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Well,
why the hell didn’t you say something before?”

“What
would you have said?” he asked. “You were so dead set on me taking the job—”

“That’s
not true!” I cried, my temper flaring. “I didn’t push you into that job and you
know it. I never pressured you!”

“Maybe
not out loud, but it was obvious you wanted me to take it,” he said. He
suddenly looked angry, the weariness slipping from his face. “It’s the way you
people always operate. Doling out your charity on us poor losers, and acting so
nice about it, like it’s no big deal. Like you’re all too good to even notice
how benevolent you are. So someone would have to be an ass to even question
it.” Eric’s face was twisted up in bitterness, practically unrecognizable to
me. This was not the man I married. “Your whole family was acting like it was
some amazing gift, that someone like me would even be offered a position
working with someone as fucking perfect as your father—”

Eric
stopped suddenly. I wondered if he had caught sight of my face. I was sure I
had gone pale—I felt like I was about to faint. I had never heard him
talk that way about my family before. Hell, I’d rarely even heard him raise his
voice at me, let alone use that kind of language. What else was he keeping
bottled up inside?

“Kiki,
I didn’t mean that.” His voice was softer now, much more like himself, but I
could barely bring myself to look at him.

“I’m
sorry you feel that way,” I said, turning away from him. I could hear my voice
shaking but I ordered myself not to lose it. I’d learned years ago the way to
respond when someone attacked. I’d had plenty of experience with taunts at
school, taunts from people I had thought were my friends, from members of my
own family even, so many that I was an expert at it by now. “It was never my
intention to make you feel badly,” I continued, my voice stronger now. “I’m
sorry if that was the case.”

“Kiki.”
Eric sounded sad now, guilty. “
I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“I’m
going out for some air,” I said, working hard to make my voice sound detached.

“Look
at me,” Eric begged, reaching out for my arm. As he pulled me around to face
him, something in me snapped. I was tired of pretending that my feelings didn’t
exist. Tired of people pulling me down for things I couldn’t control.

“Don’t
you touch me,” I said, my voice low. “Don’t you dare touch me, Eric
Thompson.
In fact, you can get the hell out of this condo
right now.”

He
stared at me, shock clear on his face. Somehow, that expression made me even
angrier. “I’m not kidding,” I snapped, shaking his hand off my arm. “Go to
Chicago and prove to everyone that you don’t need us.” He still didn’t move so
I took a step closer. “Get
out
, Eric.
Since you’re so offended that my father’s money bought this place. Since you’re
so much better than us. No one is making you stay. No one is making you have
anything to do with us. So just get out.”

Eric
just stared at me. He looked like he was about to burst into tears.

“Fine,”
I muttered, my breathing heavy. “Fine, I’ll go then.” I stomped over to the
door, picking up my purse from the side table. I spun around to face him. He
was standing in the exact same spot, seemingly frozen. “I want you to not be
here when I get back.”

Without
waiting for a response I pulled the door open and stepped into the hall,
slamming the door behind me, my husband on the other side.

Chapter twenty-seven

For
the first time, I was grateful for Sarah’s wedding. Grateful, even, that Jen
was out of commission. A huge wedding for a spoiled rich girl meant a lot of
work. As long as I was working, I was okay. If I could just make myself busy
enough to not think about Eric, I would be fine. I stayed at the office well
past eleven every night, and when I got home I was usually too exhausted to do
much else but fall into bed.

I
could almost ignore how much I missed him.

After
our huge fight I had gone to my parents’. I didn’t want to tell them what was
wrong; they would be so hurt if they knew how he really felt. So I had simply
lied and told them Eric had to work late and I didn’t want to be on my own. I
wasn’t sure if they bought it—for all I knew, my dad knew Eric’s schedule
better than I did.

The
following week, Eric packed a few suitcases and went to Chicago. We had barely
spoken during the intervening nights. I was angry and hurt and not inclined to
believe anything he told me by way of apology. You just didn’t say stuff like
that if you didn’t mean it. It didn’t come from nowhere. How long had that been
building up in him?

Luckily,
I didn’t have much time to dwell. The day of Sarah’s wedding dawned hot and
sunny. I was grateful she had decided on an indoor reception; the original plan
had involved a tent out on the lawns of the club. We would have been
sweltering. The outside ceremony was going to be bad enough.

I
got ready quickly, wearing a little sundress to keep cool for the set-up. I
would change into something nice later. As I brushed my teeth, I caught sight
of myself in the mirror, and felt my stomach drop. I looked terrible. I must
have lost about ten pounds in the last few months. While I normally would have
been thrilled to be a smaller size, the loss somehow did not suit me. I looked
tired and sick, my skin pale and my eyes huge in my face.