Oh My Husband and Best Friend Betrayed Me So I Slept With Her Husband and Ruined Them novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Water
Tony tells Valeria at a steakhouse that her husband is sleeping with his wife. Brett lies on speaker with Lila laughing behind him. Valeria takes off her ring: they are four blocks away.
I sprayed a mouthful of water across a white tablecloth, in front of the whole steakhouse.
My best friend's husband had just told me, in a flat voice, that my husband was sleeping with his wife.
I stared at him over the candle.
My best friend has been Lila for eleven years, and her husband is Tony.
I have sat across from him at a hundred birthday dinners.
He is not a man who jokes.
"That's not funny," I said.
"I'm not trying to be funny, Valeria."
He slid a napkin across the table so I could wipe my chin.
The waiter appeared, looked at the wet cloth, and left again without a word.
"You asked me here to plan Lila's thirtieth," I said. "You said it was a surprise."
"It is a surprise," Tony said. "I just lied about whose."
He set his phone on the tablecloth and turned it to face me.
The first photo was a hotel parking garage.
Brett's silver Audi sat in the third space from the elevator, and the plate was clear.
The second photo was a bar with low gold lights.
Brett had his hand flat on the small of Lila's back, and she was laughing up at him.
I knew that blue sweater.
I had helped her pick it out in March.
"That could be anyone," I said, and my voice came out thin.
"It's your husband and my wife," Tony said. "Press play."
I pressed the arrow.
The video was brief, shot from across a street.
Brett held a hotel door open.
Lila walked through it, and he followed, and he looked both ways before he did.
I put the phone down very gently.
My hands wanted to throw it.
"Brett is in Denver," I said. "He's at an insurance conference. He texted me from the airport this morning."
I turned my own phone over and found the message.
It said: Boarding now. Tell Tony I'm sorry I'm missing the party planning, you've got this. Love you, babe.
Tony read it upside down.
"And Lila is in Duluth," he said. "At her sister's. She sent me a picture of a lake."
"Then there's an explanation."
"There is," he said. "You're sitting in it."
"No." I shook my head. "Lila held my hair at my wedding when I threw up in the bridal suite."
"I know."
"She drove me to the ER when I broke my wrist. She stayed all night."
"I know. I was the one who brought her coffee."
"Brett cries at dog food commercials, Tony."
He didn't answer.
He just kept his eyes on me and let the silence answer.
Then he said something quieter.
"I've been trying for four years to give her a baby. She says the problem is me."
"I'm sorry," I said, because it was true and I didn't know what else to say.
"Brett's doctor told him years ago he can't have kids," I said. "So we stopped asking. We don't even talk about it."
Tony's eyes stayed on my face for a second too long.
"Huh," he said.
That was all he said.
I picked up my phone again.
My thumb was steady, and that surprised me.
"Call him with me on the speaker," Tony said. "Don't accuse him. Ask how his flight is."
I pressed Brett's name.
It rang four times.
"Hey, babe!" He sounded warm and a little out of breath. "Sorry, I'm at the gate in Denver. They've delayed us again."
"Oh no," I said. "Are you eating something?"
"Just a sad pretzel. Listen, I'll try to land late. Don't wait up, okay? I love you."
Behind him, a woman laughed.
It was low, and it cracked at the end.
I have heard that laugh in my own kitchen a thousand times.
"Brett," a voice said, muffled, close to the phone. "Come on, they're waiting on us."
"TV in the bar," Brett said fast. "Sports. I gotta go, babe."
The line went dead.
Neither of us spoke.
The candle between us leaned in its glass.
I looked down at my left hand.
The sapphire was small, because Brett had saved for it for a year, and I had told him I loved it.
I twisted the ring off and dropped it in my purse.
Then I folded my napkin and put it on the table.
So I stood up.
"Where is she really?" I asked.
Tony checked his watch, then looked at me.
"The Calloway Hotel, on Nicollet. The bar on the ground floor."
"That's four blocks from here."
"Yes," he said. "They've been there since six."
I picked up my coat.
"Then pay the check."
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