A Stranger on the Beach(32)

“What is this?” he said.

“Divorce papers. My lawyer’s filing the complaint in court tomorrow. It has all the dirt about you and that Russian woman, and your so-called business trips. I know you’re lying about where you go. Everybody will know that now. They’ll see what a rat you are, Jason.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Maybe not for you.”

My voice rang out in the silence of the dark, empty parking lot. A misty rain had been falling all evening. The chill got in my bones, making me shiver. I longed for an apology. I’d settle for shock, or even anger. Instead, Jason looked dejected, and his unhappiness gave me no satisfaction.

“It’ll be hard on Hannah,” he said.

“I don’t want to do this. But you told me you would take care of me, then you took all the money, and you’re planning to flee the country. How am I supposed to react?”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

In the light from the streetlamp, I gazed at his familiar face, and my heart flooded with regret. I didn’t want revenge. All I wanted was for the past week never to have happened, for our marriage to be warm and cozy, for Jason to be my rock, like he’d always been.

“It kills me to put you through this,” he said.

“Then don’t,” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears. “It’s not too late.”

To my intense relief, he opened his arms, and I walked right into them.



* * *



When Jason and I returned to the table fifteen minutes later, we were holding hands. He pulled up a chair for me, and I gazed at him over my shoulder as I took a seat. Hannah looked back and forth between us in wonder.

“Looks like you guys had a good talk,” she said, and the hope in her face tugged at my heart. I had hope, too, even if it was last-ditch and desperate.

“Your mother and I made up,” Jason said. “But let’s not talk about it too much, because I don’t want to jinx it. Hand me the menu. I hear they have great carbonara.”

He signaled the waiter. I felt hungry suddenly and realized I hadn’t eaten since the scrambled eggs this morning. Scrambled eggs …

Aidan.

Was that really today? Was it even this lifetime? Thank God that ridiculous fling was over. What a crazy mistake. Now that I was back with my family, where I belonged, I could put it out of my mind and never think of it again.

From behind me, a man’s hand, holding a pitcher, reached to fill my water glass. Something in the hand was so familiar that I held my breath, afraid of what I’d see if I turned around. Could it be? I stared straight ahead.

I saw Jason look up, and his eyes widen.

“You’re the guy from the parking lot,” he said. “You work here?”

“Yes, sir. Can I get you anything else?”

At the sound of Aidan’s voice, I froze. Had he followed me here? I could tell that he was standing right behind me. In a terrible moment of suspended animation, I waited for him to say something that acknowledged our connection. To call me by name. To spill the truth about our affair to my husband, with whom I’d now—I hoped and prayed—reconciled. Instead, he circled to the other side of the table, coming close enough to brush against the back of my chair. I saw that he was wearing a black apron embroidered with the name of the restaurant and carrying a pitcher of ice water. What the hell? Either this was the most bizarre coincidence of all time, or he was masquerading as a waiter. It was the latter; I knew it in my gut. He’d followed me to this restaurant, stolen the apron and the pitcher, and walked up to our table, in some deranged attempt to make contact, to barge into my dinner with my family. I had no idea why. But he could only mean harm.

I watched in horror as Aidan filled first Hannah’s water glass, then Jason’s. He lifted a hand to push back his hair, and I saw that the left side of his forehead had turned a deep purple, marked by a dark red gash where he’d bashed it against the dashboard of my car. Aidan finally met my horror-stricken gaze. And smiled. What did he hope to gain by sneaking up on me like this? I wanted to ask him. I wanted to demand that he leave me and my family alone. But my voice died in my throat. The only thing that mattered right now was saving my marriage. If Jason knew I’d cheated, even though he’d done exactly the same, our fragile reconciliation would be at risk. So, I sat completely still, praying in silent horror that—whatever his intentions—Aidan would leave us without giving me away.

The elderly, white-jacketed waiter returned to check on us. He looked Aidan up and down in confusion.

“Who are you?” he said. “You don’t work here.”

“I’m new,” Aidan said. But he set the water pitcher down on the table and hurried away.

“Uh, folks, could you give me a minute,” the elderly waiter said, and rushed to follow Aidan.

I watched as Aidan ran out the front door of the restaurant. The elderly waiter stopped at the ma?tre d’s station. He and the ma?tre d’ stepped outside, then came back in moments later and engaged in an animated conversation.

“That’s odd, don’t you think?” Jason said, watching them, too.

My voice was rusty with shock, to the point that I had to clear my throat before I could get out a reply.

“What—what do you mean?”

“That guy who brought the water. I don’t believe he works here.”