Confessions on the 7:45(53)

She slid in across from Martha.

“So glad you could make it out,” said Martha. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a night owl.”

“Not usually, but that meeting ran late, and I decided to stay in the city. My husband’s away; my kids are at my mom’s. So—why not?” She offered a conspiratorial wink.

“Live dangerously, right?”

“Right!”

Selena shifted off her coat, looked at the wine list and, when the waiter who was also the bartender arrived, ordered a cabernet.

“I was surprised to hear from you,” Selena said. Light, chatty. “How did you get my number?”

Martha tilted her head a little, smiled. “You gave me your card.”

“Did I?”

Martha dug through her bag and came out with the blue-and-white card, handing it over to Selena. The other woman’s nails, bloodred, glittered in the candlelight.

“Oh,” she said, staring at it. She had no memory at all of the exchange. “That vodka must have hit me harder than I thought.”

“Me, too,” said Martha, rolling her eyes. “Look. The reason I reached out—”

The bartender came with Selena’s wine and Martha paused, thanking him. A moment passed between the two, a lingering look, a smile. Oh, right—that. People flirted, hooked up when they were free and single. Martha was a stunning beauty; she could probably have any man she wanted.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Martha went on when he’d left them. “Any of it. I’m embarrassed.”

Selena sipped from her glass, feeling its warmth, and allowing the liquid to wash away any lingering tension. Now that she knew she’d given Martha her card, the texts seemed way less unsettling. More like just someone looking to connect, like Will said. But—when? She did not remember at all.

And then there was Martha—light, warm, like any of Selena’s friends. She’d liked Martha on sight; she remembered that now. Right away there had been a connection. She still felt it.

Selena lifted a palm. “It’s totally fine. It’s in the vault. Just between us.”

Martha smiled gratefully. Selena twisted the stem of her glass, the red sloshing inside.

“I’d had such a bad day—and you have such a warm energy,” Martha went on. “And I just felt like I wanted to spill my guts to you.”

“I get it,” said Selena, leaning forward, lowering her voice. “I’m embarrassed, too. And after all of that, it turned out that my situation was a false alarm.”

Martha blinked. Was there a little flash of surprise on her face? “Oh?”

“I was just being paranoid,” Selena said, going for a self-deprecating smile. “My husband and I have hit some rough patches in the past. And I have trust issues to begin with. But there was nothing going on at all.”

More lies.

“Well, that’s a relief, right?” Martha took a sip of her wine, a sparkling rosé. “Here’s to problems just going away.”

They clinked glasses over the candle between them.

“What about you?” asked Selena.

“I broke it off with my boss.” Martha sat up a little straighter. “He took it like a gentleman, and it’s business as usual—for now. I do think I need to find another job.”

Was the other woman lying, too? Did she reach out over and over because she too regretted what she had said to a stranger? Well, that was fine. They could each tell their lies and keep their little secrets.

“That’s great,” said Selena, touching the other woman’s hand. “You did the right thing.”

“After we met, I wondered what you must have thought of me. A woman sleeping with a married man.”

“Hey,” Selena said with a wave of her hand. “We all make mistakes, errors in judgment, right?”

A couple nestled at the table behind Martha—young and in love. Just wait, thought Selena, surprised at her own bitterness. At another table, two women leaned in close, talking in whispers. The bartender dried glasses, most of the seats in front of him empty on a rainy Monday night. He kept glancing at Martha, and Selena noticed his powerful build, how defined were the muscles on his arms. On almost every table, smartphones glowed.

“So, what happened with your husband?” asked Martha, looking down at the table. “How did the conversation go?”

What she wanted to say: I confronted him. We had a huge blowout. I threw a toy robot at him. My son heard everything. I kicked Graham out and only let him come home because Oliver saw him sitting outside in the car, stalking the house. Oh, and now the nanny’s missing. I have no idea what’s going to happen next.

“I confronted him,” she said instead, keeping her tone light and measured. “And he assured me that there wasn’t anything going on.”

Martha kept an intense gaze on Selena. “Okay. And you believe him.”

“I do,” Selena said with a shrug. “I have to. He’s my husband.”

Martha lifted her eyebrows. “Is that how it works?”

Selena regarded the other woman. “More or less. If you don’t have trust, you don’t have much.”

God, she was so full of shit. But Martha lifted her glass as if in cheers to the truth.