Page 65 of The Family Guest

Slowly, hesitantly, reluctantly, against my better judgment, I turned and faced her.

A forlorn expression fell over her. She gazed at me with clown eyes. “I just want to say I’m sorry.”

I felt myself stiffening. The word “sorry” had no place in my vocabulary or my life. There was nothing she could say or do that would bring back my Anabel. “Please…let bygones be bygones.”

At my words, her eyes began to water. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Anabel. I always thought it was partly my fault, but you need to know the whole story.”

I said nothing. Matt and I were moving forward. Did I really want to revisit his affair with my former best friend?

The line moved up; we were standing side by side. “Please, Nat. Just have coffee or a glass of wine with me. I promise you we’ll never have to see each other again after today.”

“Fine.”

It was my turn to pay.

Maybe for my sins.

THIRTY-FOUR

NATALIE

The Odéon Hotel’s chic, down-lit bar was surprisingly quiet. The hostess led us to a secluded booth in the corner. I was surprised Alexa, who always preferred to be in the open, didn’t object. A server in all black came by and took our drink orders. Alexa ordered a Kir Royale. My nerves on edge, I did the same. She then excused herself to use the restroom, relieving me of not having to make small talk.

The drinks, accompanied by a bowl of mixed nuts, arrived just as she returned, and an awkward stretch of silence ensued. In the past, under normal circumstances, Alexa and I would always propose a toast, be it to our friendship or to one of the galas we were co-chairing. But we were no longer friends, and she and I no longer served on the same boards. I stared at the pink-tinted champagne, watching the bubbles rise, at a loss for words.

Alexa made the first move. She lifted the flute with her perfectly manicured fingers to her lips. “Thank you, Nat, for being here. It means a lot to me.” She took a quick sip of her drink. Wordlessly, I followed suit.

No toast.

Setting her flute down, she looked at me earnestly. “You know, I never come to Pierre Michel on Mondays anymore.”

I’m sure she deliberately avoided me the way I avoided her. Our paths hadn’t crossed in over two years. Not once.

She continued. “I have the library’s annual black-tie dinner tonight. It’s the first time they’re holding it on a Monday…so I had to get my hair done.”

I nodded. I used to love that event. But with Alexa chairing The Circle of Friends, I’d left the board.

Alexa stared down at her drink and then gazed up at me, a pained expression on her face. “I’m sorry you won’t be there.”

“I’m sure it will be lovely.” I took another long sip of my Kir to avoid having to say more.

Another round of silence. Alexa dipped her fingers into the tub of nuts, nervously rearranging them, not eating one. She finally broke the silence.

“Nat, I’ve always felt terrible about that day at Neiman’s.”

That day, that lunch that changed my life forever. Almost ended it.

My eyes drilled into hers. “Alexa, you slept with my husband!”

She blinked nervously, her eyes misting. “Here’s the thing…I didn’t.”

Anger seeped into my bloodstream. “I don’t believe you!” I hissed.

A tear escaped from her eye; she brushed it away. The look on her face morphed into one of despair. “It’s the honest truth. I swear on my children’s lives.”

The irony of her last words stung me. What about Anabel’s life? Battling my own tears, I let her go on.

“Nat, please hear me out.” Her normally brazen voice was small. Repentant. I resisted a sip of my Kir and nodded. She softly thanked me.