Page 52 of Infidelity Rules

“You can give me the short version.”

“My, you are persistent,” I say, suddenly thinking of Julian and how I insist on constantly quizzing him.

“Well?” she asks.

“Let’s just say that marriage didn’t agree with me. And I found I love being a mistress. As the other woman, you’re always the sexy, fun one. The one being pursued.”

Cindy just looks at me. It’s hard to discern whether she likes me or really, really hates me. I get the feeling she’s trying to figure that out for herself.

“Okay, let’s get back to the rules,” I say, trying to change the subject. Although I have no clue where to go from here. I tend to wing these encounters.

“Yes,” says Cindy, clapping her hands together. “Go.”

I’m trying to think of something to say when I hear a gentle knock at my door.

Yes! Saved!

I excuse myself and head toward my entryway. My mind wanders. I’m thinking about how to get Cindy out and what I should eat for dinner tonight when I open the door.

Juliette.

How does this woman keep finding me?

We stare at each other. She’s as lovely as ever, her cheeks a little fuller, perhaps and bright pink from the cold.

It’s hard to tell if she’s showing at all yet under the winter layers, but she’s got that unmistakable pregnancy stance — feet planted wide, hips tilted, hands clasped across her stomach.

“Come in Juliette,” I say, not sure what else to do. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you have company,” she says, glancing at Cindy as she wraps her coat around herself tightly. “I can come back.”

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” I say tightly. I wish she wasn’t here, but I certainly don’t want her coming back. I just want to get this over with, whatever it is.

“You’re sure?” she asks again, looking at Cindy.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” says Cindy, smiling up at Juliette. “Come sit. I’m just here for my lessons.”

“Lessons?” asks Juliette.

“Just ignore her please,” I say briskly. “May I take your coat? Get you some water or tea?”

Juliette shakes her head. “I won’t stay long.”

“What can I do for you, Juliette?” I ask.

She looks at me, then at Cindy. “Can we talk somewhere in private?” she asks quietly.

“I can leave,” says Cindy, jumping up from the sofa. “We can pick up later, Quinn.”

“No. You stay,” I say to Cindy, more brusquely than I intended. I had wanted her to leave, but that was before Juliette showed up. Surprising me at my place of work is one thing, but then showing up at my home, uninvited, with expectations to clear out my house? Uh uh. No way.

“Cindy, please continue to make yourself at home. This won’t take long. Juliette, let’s go into the kitchen.”

Cindy nods and picks up my discarded newspaper while Juliette follows me out of the living room, still clutching her coat.

We stand there, staring at each other. It feels like a dodgeball face-off just before the referee signals the ball is in play.

“Did you think about what I said?” asks Juliette, quietly.

“I did,” I say, nodding. “But you’re not going to like my answer.”

She nods and looks up at my ceiling, sighing.

“Juliette, I love Marcus. I’m not leaving him. And I have no control over him and what he wants and who he decides to be with. You must know that.”

“I do,” she says. “And I figured you were going to say that.”

The kitchen is warm and I start to sweat. I can see a sheen building on Juliette’s forehead as she finally starts peeling off her coat. I don’t want to look, but I have to. She sees me staring.

“I’m not showing too much yet,” she says, rubbing her stomach through her bulky sweater. “You could probably tell in tighter clothes though.”

I sigh. “I know this sucks. I do. But I can’t give you what you want.”

“You’re the only one who can,” she says.

“Come on Juliette, you know that’s not true,” I shake my head. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you and Marcus.”

“It is about you,” she says, her voice starting to rise. “You meddled in my marriage. You did that. And now he doesn’t want me back. It’s most definitely about you.”

We stare at each other. Her eyes are bright with tears and I can feel hot, salty drops starting to collect in the corners of my own eyes. I am trying desperately to extinguish that gnawing parasite in my gut, telling me that she’s right.

“Don’t you dare cry,” she says to me. “You have no right.”

I nod, blinking back the tears and willing myself not to cry. As usual, I oscillate between guilt and anguish for Juliette or pure rage.

“Look, Juliette. I think you should talk to Marcus. I don’t want to be in the middle of this.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” she shouts at me.

“YOU put yourself in the middle of this. You will ALWAYS be in the middle. How do you think this is going to play out, huh? You think this baby is going to love you like a mother? You think you’re just going to slide into our lives easily as the other woman?

You think our families are going to welcome you, my husband’s mistress, with open arms?

” screams Juliette, her face turning bright red, her fists balled at her sides. “Heartless bitch,” she says, seething.

“Please,” I say, “Take a breath. Sit down.”

“You can’t just make me disappear,” she says, her voice still raised. “That may have worked before, if I wasn’t having Marcus’s child. HIS child,” she says, shooting eyeball daggers at me.

“Juliette, please calm down,” I say, trying to ratchet down her anger. “This can’t be good for the baby.”

Juliette starts laughing like a lunatic. It’s creepy. “Like you care at all what’s good for this baby,” she says. “You STOLE my husband. You lured him away from his family. Have you no shame? No humility?”

I suck in a deep breath. Where the hell is Marcus? I feel like he really needs to be here for these outbursts.

I’m about to speak when Cindy comes barreling into the kitchen. “Everything okay in here? There’s a lot of yelling going on.”

“We’re fine,” Juliette hisses through gritted teeth. “I was just telling your friend here to back the fuck away from my husband.”

Oh boy.

Cindy’s eyes go wide at that as she turns to look at me, eyebrows raised. I ignore her. I can only handle one crazed woman at a time.

“Juliette, Marcus was married to you. He’s the one who took vows. You need to deal with him, not me.”

“Is. Is married to me,” Juliette says, widening her stance and crossing her arms defiantly. “He’s still married to me. And we’re having a baby.”

“I know,” I whisper, my intestines churning. I hear Cindy suck in a breath. I can’t look at her. At either one of them. I look at the floor and then at my beautiful emerald bracelet encircling my wrist, the weight of all those green gemstones suddenly feeling heavy and burdensome.

How do I keep Marcus and not destroy this child’s chance at a family? How can I hold on to the love of my life and still look at myself in the mirror every morning? There has to be a way.

There has to be.

“Quinn, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the baby. I’d let Marcus go. I really would.”

I can’t speak. I can’t look forward into the future and I can’t seem to look backward, either. I am here, in the moment, feeling smothered by Juliette’s pain and the weight of my role in this mess. It doesn’t help that Cindy is witness to this nightmare, either.

Juliette slumps against the counter, clearly drained. “What am I supposed to tell this child?”

I have no answers. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out Juliette for a moment. And Cindy. And that terrible mantra in my head — this kid will hate you, hate you, hate you .

“You’re not going to back off, are you?” Juliette asks softly.

“There’s no guarantee, you know,” I whisper. “Even if I backed off, you still might not get him back.”

Juliette nods. “I know that. I just want the chance. And you’re in my way.”

“Do you really expect me to give up the love of my life?”

“Yes. I’m banking on your decency,” says Juliette. “It’s not my fault you chose a married man. You could have picked a single one.”

“She has you there,” says Cindy, piping up from the corner of the kitchen. “You kinda made your bed.”

“Seriously Cindy?” I ask, staring at her. “You really don’t want to get involved in this.”

“Okay, okay,” says Cindy, backing out of the kitchen. “It’s Juliette, yes?” she says, addressing Marcus’s wife. “I get it. Quinn dated my husband for a while too.”

Juliette stares at Cindy and then back at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says. “And now you’re friends?”

Cindy shrugs. “I guess we are now. But that’s only because she left him alone and decided to help me win him back.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling Juliette’s incredulity shrouding the room like a wet storm cloud. “Enough. I’m done. Everybody out of my house.”

“I’m just saying, I like you now,” says Cindy. “You did have the decency to bow out. Zack and I are good now. Great, in fact,” she says, smiling at both of us.

“Out. Please,” I say. “I can’t handle anymore today.”

“I’ll go, but we’re not finished yet,” says Juliette, putting on her jacket.

“Of course not,” I say, exhausted.

I watch as the two of them start the winter bundling process.

How did I get myself into this? Will my life ever just be normal?

“You know, Quinn could help you win your husband back, too,” I hear Cindy saying to Juliette.

I roll my eyes, too tired to respond.

“She’ll do the right thing,” says Cindy as they walk out my door. “Just give her time.”

I close the door behind them and lean against it, too drained to move. I press my forehead into the cool fiberglass only to have my head rattled by a rap at the door.

Now what?

Cindy.

She stares at me with those perfectly round, navy blue eyes.

“Quinn, you cannot come between that family.”

“It’s really none of your business.”

“But it is. We women have to stick together.”

I rub my hands over my face. “It’s complicated, Cindy. Way more complicated than it was with Zack.”

“And you think throwing a baby in the middle is going to uncomplicate things?”

“I know. I know,” I say, throwing up my hands. “It’s a terrible situation.”

“It is, but you’re not a terrible person, Quinn,” she says softly. “I know you’re not. And you have the power to make a difference here.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Use it,” she says as she turns to go. “You’re better than this. Let that woman have her family back.”

I sigh as I watch Cindy walk away.

She looks over her shoulder at me one last time. “That kid is going to hate your guts.”