Page 28 of The New Couple in 5B

I wonder at this. He hadn’t talked to his cousin in years. He’d been angry that she hadn’t helped with Ivan, hadn’t been there for him or for us. Chad’s a great guy but I’m not sure I believe that he was sensitive enough to worry about Dana’s heartbreak.

“Then,” he goes on. “I wanted to surprise you after the reading of his will. But Dana beat me to it. And I had to act shocked because I didn’t want you to think I’d been keeping it from you.”

Which he had been.

This is not the first time I’ve been unsettled by how well my husband lies. Not that it was truly a lie. But he was so convincing as someone who’d received a surprise boon that I never even considered that he’d already known about it. In that moment, he’d perfectly captured the essence of someone shocked, pleased, but still feeling guilty that he’d taken something from someone else. He is an excellent actor.

He reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry, Rosie. That was shitty. I should have told you when he first mentioned it. I just—”

He lets out a sigh, his brow wrinkled with worry.

“What?”

“I didn’t want you to talk us out of accepting it. You’re so—ethical, so sensitive to others. And I love that about you. It’s rare.Sorare in this world. But I just wanted this. For us. We deserve a break, don’t you think?”

Would I have talked him out of it, or declined it if Ivan had offered it to us both? I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about Dana, how sad she was, the box I want her to see so that she knows her father loved her in the way that he could. The letter addressed to her. Maybe there are some healing words there. I know what it feels like to be estranged, alone.

“The Aldridges’ daughter—Lilian. I’ve seen her before.” I flash on her wolfish stare, her deep red lips.

Chad lifts his eyebrows. “Do you know who her husband is?”

I shake my head.

“She’s married to Robert Dunham.”

Oh, wow. Dunham is one of the biggest director-slash-producers of all time. He’s a star-maker. How did we not know this? Or maybe Chad did. Maybe he invited her to his opening night. She left before intermission, which probably isn’t a good sign if she’d been scouting for her husband.

“Did you know that?”

He shrugs. “Ivan mentioned it. That they were good people for us to know. Anyway, I think she’s more interested in you than she was in me.”

Another omission. Why?

“I doubt that very much,” I say, recalling how she looked at him, like he was a filet on a plate. “I saw her. She was at your opening night.”

He shakes his head, frowns. “I don’t think so.”

It’s an exact echo of what she said. How odd.

“She was in the front row, across the aisle from me,” I press. Those knobby wrists, silver bangles, her stare.

He runs a hand through his curls, considering. “If she went, she must not have been very impressed. She didn’t mention it when I met her tonight.”

I don’t tell him that she left before intermission.

“Anyway, Charles and Ella have mentioned her, but this is the first time I’m meeting her. If she was there on opening night, I wouldn’t have known her.” He takes my hand, face earnest. “Besides, she asked foryouragent’s contact, so I gave her Amy’s number and email.”

“You did?”

“This could be a good thing—a great thing, Rosie. For both of us.”

Releasing a sigh, I sink back into the couch, search my husband’s face.

Why would he lie—about the apartment, about Lilian?

I decide to accept what he says at face value and allow myself to be happy about it, all of it. I take in the space, really absorbing its beauty, our good fortune. It’s more than I ever dreamed of. And even though I don’t know how long we’ll be able to afford it, I decide to be in love with it.

But I’m still not thrilled about the secrets. I search for the right words, chose them carefully because that’s what writers do. “I don’t want us to keep things from each other. Anything. Lies, omissions—they’re toxic.”