Chapter 8 - The Woman on the Other End
Emma almost hung up.
Instead, she asked one question.
“How did you get this number?”
Olivia gave a humorless laugh.
“You really think Nathan’s world has secrets?”
Emma’s expression hardened.
“My number is not Nathan’s world.”
Silence.
Then Olivia said, “Fair.”
“What do you want?”
“To tell you that he’s making me the villain.”
“He sent me the messages.”
That stopped Olivia.
“All of them?”
“All the ones you gave him.”
“And you still let him come near you?”
Emma looked out the bookstore window.
“My relationship with my husband is none of your business.”
Olivia laughed bitterly.
“It became my business years ago.”
“No.”
Emma’s voice remained calm.
“Nathan made you believe that.”
Another silence.
Olivia recovered quickly.
“He complained about you constantly.”
“I know.”
“He said you didn’t understand him.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t want to go home.”
“I know.”
“He chose me.”
Emma closed her eyes.
There was the sentence.
The one Olivia had probably been waiting years to say.
Emma answered quietly.
“He chose himself.”
Olivia said nothing.
“Nathan didn’t leave me for you.”
“That doesn’t make what happened better.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
Emma’s hand rested over her stomach.
“He used you to avoid the problems waiting at home.”
Olivia’s breathing changed.
“You think that makes you superior?”
“No.”
“I think it makes both of us women who accepted less honesty than we deserved.”
Olivia went silent.
Emma continued.
“But there is one difference.”
“What?”
“I stopped accepting it.”
The line disconnected.
Emma stood alone for several minutes.
Her hands were trembling.
Not because Olivia had won.
Because for the first time Emma understood something that had haunted her since the gala.
She had imagined Olivia possessed some version of Nathan that Emma had lost.
The romantic one.
The attentive one.
The man who laughed.
But Olivia had not been given a whole man either.
She had been given fragments.
Late nights.
Complaints.
Drinks.
Secret emotional dependence.
Nathan had not built a new life with Olivia.
He had simply hidden from the life he already had.
Emma’s phone buzzed again.
This time it was Nathan.
She answered.
“Hi.”
“You sound upset.”
“Olivia called me.”
Nathan went completely silent.
“When?”
“Just now.”
“I did not give her your number.”
“I believe you.”
The words came naturally.
Emma froze after saying them.
So did Nathan.
It was the first time in months she had told him she believed anything.
“Emma.”
“Don’t make it bigger than it is.”
“I won’t.”
She sat down.
“She thinks you’re blaming her.”
“I told the board I wouldn’t.”
“I know.”
Nathan waited.
Emma finally said, “She showed you something I’m glad I saw.”
“The messages.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
There was that phrase again.
Different now.
Less sharp.
Nathan exhaled.
“I’m leaving New York tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“Newport, if you still want me there.”
Emma watched rain crawl down the glass.
“Come.”
Then she added, “Nathan?”
May you like
“Yes?”
“When you get here, we need to talk about what happens after the baby is born.”
