Those Christmas Angels (Angels Everywhere #5)(48)

“This is your life and your marriage, and your heart’s breaking.” Anne had struggled with this same vicious anger herself. Her self-esteem had been destroyed; she’d come to the end of her composure, no longer the complacent wife. Her self-recrimination had been as bitter as her resentment and her fury.

“I had no idea I was so furious.”

“I didn’t, either, when it happened to me,” Anne consoled her. She hadn’t turned on Burton, though. Instead, she’d wept until there were no more tears left and all that remained was her anger.

“On the other hand,” Marta said with strained cheerfulness, “I took your advice and had everything planned before I spoke to him.”

“Good!”

“I saw an attorney and had our joint assets frozen right away.”

Anne approved. “That was smart—and practical.”

“My attorney advised me to wait a week until he had everything in place. Then Jack came home smelling of her perfume and I went ballistic.”

This was so unlike Marta that Anne could scarcely picture her friend in that kind of state. “How did he react?”

Marta’s laugh was short. “Of course he denied everything.”

Just like Burton had, accusing Anne of having a filthy mind, of being insecure and ridiculous. In the beginning, she’d felt dreadful for suspecting such terrible things about her husband. Burton had insisted on an apology and in her innocence, Anne had given him one. Her face burned with mortification at the memory.

“Burton denied everything, too.”

“Then I told him about seeing an attorney,” Marta said, her voice quavering, “and…and then I threw him out.”

In every likelihood, Jack had immediately gone to the other woman, but Anne didn’t mention that.

“He…he didn’t want to leave. He kept trying to reason with me but I wouldn’t listen. He said I was imagining things—and this is the crazy part—for a moment I actually believed him. Here he was, hours late, smelling of perfume and denying everything, and because I so badly wanted to believe him, I…I almost did.”

“Of course you wanted to believe him. Jack’s your husband.”

Marta paused. “That first night was so dreadful. Jack called the apartment ten times. I wouldn’t answer the phone and he left messages for me, pleading with me to hear him out.” She released a soft hiccuping sob.

“When was that?”

“Three days ago.”

“How long has it been since you talked to him?”

“Since that night…I just can’t. I thought maybe I’d blown everything out of proportion and, Anne, I’m no longer sure what to believe. I know he’s involved with someone else, but I so desperately want him back that I’ve decided I can’t trust my own feelings. If I talk to him, I’m afraid he’ll manage to convince me that this is all nonsense and I’ll take him back.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Right now, nothing. I’ve hired a private investigator. It sounds so stupid, so clichéd. You’re the only person I’d admit this to, but I’m paying a man outrageous fees to follow my husband around and photograph him with another woman. Is that sick or what?”

“Oh, Marta. Of course it isn’t. A detective might be the only means you have of learning the truth.” Early on, before the breakup of her own marriage, Anne had considered the same thing. In retrospect she wished she’d done it. Photographic evidence might have opened her eyes to what Burton was doing.

“All I want is for this to go away. I think now I should’ve waited until after Christmas, but, Anne, I couldn’t. I couldn’t endure this for another second. I couldn’t pretend and look the other way anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, Marta,” Anne told her friend. “I wouldn’t have wished this on you for anything.”

“Oh, Anne, I don’t know what to do. Christmas is only a week away. I can’t deal with this and the holidays, too. What am I going to tell our friends? How can I possibly face everyone?” The questions came between deep sobs.

“Oh, Marta, I’m so sorry,” she said again.

“Why is this happening to me?”

Anne had asked herself the same question hundreds of times. “Would you like to fly out to Seattle? Stay with me and take a few days to collect your thoughts. Let your attorney know you’re coming and just get on a plane.”

“I can’t believe you’d do that for me,” Marta said, and continued to sob.

“I’ve walked in your shoes. I know how hard this is. What do you want to do?”

“Would you mind terribly coming to New York? I’d pay for your ticket. I just need someone with me—someone who understands.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind! I’ll check on flights the minute we get off the phone.” Roy wouldn’t care; Anne was sure of that. Her son would be just as happy to spend Christmas Day at Julie’s. With Anne in New York, he’d be free to do so.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you, Anne. I’d fly out and join you, but I don’t want to leave. There’s no telling what Jack would do if I were to vacate the house.”

Naturally her friend was right. “That’s fine, Marta. I’ll come to New York for Christmas and be your moral support.”