An Anonymous Girl(27)

Dr. Shields seems to see something special in me, even though I don’t often feel that way about myself.

So I keep walking.

I don’t want to disappoint her.





CHAPTER


SIXTEEN


Wednesday, December 5

It’s easy to judge other people’s choices. The mother with a grocery cart full of Froot Loops and Double Stuf Oreos who yells at her child. The driver of an expensive convertible who cuts off a slower vehicle. The husband who cheats on his wife . . . and the wife who is considering taking him back.

But what if you knew the husband was making every effort to reconcile? What if he swore it was a onetime lapse and that he would never be unfaithful again?

And what if you were the wife, and could not imagine a life without him?

The intellect does not reign supreme in matters of the heart.

Thomas captured mine in a hundred different ways. The inscription we chose for our wedding bands, the one that referenced our first meeting during the blackout, came close to describing a feeling that is impossible to put into words: You are my true light.

Since he moved out, his absence is everywhere in the town house: In the living room, where he splayed across the couch with the sports section scattered on the floor beside him. In the kitchen, where he always programmed the coffeemaker the night before so it would be ready in the morning. In the bedroom, where his warm body took away the chill at night.

When a marriage is shattered by the ultimate betrayal, physical reactions result: Insomnia. Loss of appetite. The constant worry, as relentless as a pulsing heartbeat: What drew him to her?

If the man you loved gave you reason to doubt him, could you ever trust him again?

This evening, Thomas blamed a work emergency for the cancellation of dinner plans.

He is also a therapist, so it’s entirely possible a client could be suffering an acute panic attack or a recovering alcoholic could be having an uncontrollable urge to indulge in self-destructive behavior.

He cares deeply about his patients. Most even have access to his cell phone number.

But was his voice excessively flustered?

Doubt surrounds even the most banal of explanations.

This is the legacy of infidelity.

Many women might choose to take their worry to a friend for discussion. Others might accuse; provoke a confrontation. Neither of those courses is inappropriate.

But they may not unearth the truth.

Judgments might also be made about a wife who remained suspicious enough to spy on her husband despite his assurances.

But only clinical evidence can determine if insecurity or instinct is driving the suspicion.

In this case, facts can be easily enough obtained. All that is required is a twenty-five-minute taxi ride uptown, to the office space he shares with three other clinicians on Riverside Drive.

It is now 6:07 P.M.

If his Ducati is not parked out front, the facts will not support the excuse.

The symptoms of anxiety typically include perspiration, a spike in blood pressure, and physical restlessness.

But not for everyone. A rare few present the opposite symptoms: There is a physical quieting, an enhanced mental focus, and a chilling of the extremities.

The cabdriver is asked to increase the temperature by a few degrees.

From a block away, it is impossible to determine if the motorcycle is present. A FreshDirect truck clogs the narrow street, impeding the taxi’s progress.

It is swifter to exit the taxi and proceed on foot.

A flood of relief accompanies the realization that the office is occupied: Light blazes through the slats of the blinds on the ground floor. His motorcycle is parked outside in its usual spot.

Thomas is exactly where he said he would be.

Doubt is banished, for now.

It is unnecessary to proceed any further. He is busy. And it is better if he doesn’t know about this visit.

From a block away in the other direction, a woman approaches. She wears a long, swinging camel-colored coat and jeans.

She stops in front of Thomas’s building. During business hours, a security guard requires guests to sign in. But the guard leaves at six P.M. At this time of night, visitors must press a buzzer to be admitted.

The woman is perhaps in her early thirties. Objectively attractive, even from a distance. She does not display any outward symptoms of a crisis; to the contrary, her affect is carefree.

She is not the same woman who tempted Thomas to stray from our marriage; that woman will never be a threat again.

The woman in the swinging coat disappears inside Thomas’s building. A few moments later the blinds that were slightly ajar snap shut.

Perhaps the glare of the street lamp was in her eyes.

Or perhaps there is another reason.

If a guy cheats once, he’s probably going to do it again.

You were the one who issued that warning, Jessica.

Some wives would push through the door to get a closer look. Others might choose to wait to see how long the woman remained inside, and if the parties in question emerged from the building together. A few might assume defeat and walk away.

Those are typical responses.

There are other, far more subtle courses of action.

Watching and waiting for the right moment is an essential component of a long-term strategy. It would be impulsive to swoop in and engage in a conflict before certainty is obtained.

And sometimes a warning shot, a decisive show of strength, can circumvent the need for a battle at all.