Page 103 of Happy Wife

“And then he took you on a trip and you forgot all about how miserable you’ve been for months?”

“What’s your point?”

“Stop letting Will bribe you, Nora. Stop giving him all the power just because he has money.”

“He didn’t bribe me. I was not bribed.”

Was I?

I had been floating on a cloud since the beach trip. Marcus was yanking me back down to earth, and I kind of hated him forit.

“What do you want me to say, Marcus? And why are you so caught up in what happens in my marriage? Don’t you think it’s a little strange?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Congratulations, Nora. You’ve hopped the median and now you’re headed the wrong way in the express lane to the low road.

“I’m sorry,” I said and took a breath. “I am trying to make it work. I am trying so hard.”

“Who told you it should be this hard?”

I took a sip of my drink, regretting how much Marcus knew about that night. Wishing it was just something Will and I could bury.

“Have you thought about how this works out for you if you succeed at making things work?” he asked. “You asked me what you should do. Have you thought about what you really want? I mean, kids? What about art? Or art school? Do you want anything for yourself?”

What I want is to keep my manicured life together. If I walk away, all of this goes away. I have no job and no savings, and I live nowhere. Not to mention the most important thing, no Will. And I love him.

“I’ll figure it out. I have the combination to the safe, right?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “So, are you going to use it?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means: You deserve the things you want in your life, and you don’t have to bow down to these people to get them.”

“I’m not,” I snapped back.

He raised his hands in surrender. “All right, Nora.”

Shit. This isn’t Marcus’s fault. I called him that night.

“Marcus, I didn’t—I’m—”

Este stepped back out on the deck, looking back and forth at the two of us.

“Hey, Marcus?” she called. “The oven’s making a weird beeping sound.” She waved her hand around, blissfully unaware of how anything in her kitchen worked. And, I hoped, unaware of the disagreement Marcus and I had just had.

Marcus picked up the hammer and headed back toward the house.

Chapter40

Thirteen days after

I killed the call with Fritz and flew into action, making no effort to dry off. The black T-shirt I had yanked on as I was running for the door is wet and sticking to my skin. The next thing I know, I’m banging on the service door of Lemon & Fig—my hair still stringy and knotted from the shower.

About a minute into my nonstop fist rapping, Marcus swings the door open on a wild-eyed, drowned-cat version of me standing in the back alley of his restaurant. The clock in the galley says it’s just after 11:00a.m.

“Nora.” His face is stricken by the sight of me. “Come in. Are you okay?” He gently pulls me by the arm into a dry storage area of the kitchen, sending my eyes down to his toned forearms. I picture him holding the hammer. He’s strong enough to pull it off. The thought makes me recoil, and I draw my arm back and wrap it around my waist.

“What time did you leave my house?” I shrug off his grip.