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Richard took one look at me and lost his mind. “Are you out of your damn mind with that dress? You look like you’re trying to upstage the bride.”
“It’s green, Richard.
“It’s too much, too flashy, too obvious.”
He was pacing around our bedroom like a caged animal. “These people can smell desperation, Amber.
You’re going to embarrass both of us.”
Desperation. There was that word again. Apparently, looking confident was now a character flaw in Richard’s book.
“What exactly am I being obvious about?”
“That you’re trying way too hard to prove something. You look like a woman having a midlife crisis, not like someone who belongs at a sophisticated social event.”
I stared at this man who had been systematically destroying my self-worth for months while secretly planning to replace me with his ex-girlfriend. The man who thought I was too stupid to figure out his scheme.
“You know what, Richard? You’re absolutely right. I am trying to prove something.”
“What?”
“That I’m not going to let you make me feel worthless anymore.”
His face turned red with the kind of anger that used to make me apologize immediately. “Your attitude lately has been completely unacceptable. Amber, this isn’t confidence.
This is you acting out because you know you don’t belong in my world.”
“Your world? You mean the world where husbands lie to their wives and sneak around with ex-girlfriends?”
The color drained from his face so fast I thought he might faint. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Stephanie Martinez.
He sat down heavily on our bed, all the fight gone out of him. “Amber, it’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think.
You’ve been emotionally cheating on me for months, planning to humiliate me at a family event and lying to my face about everything.”
“We never… it wasn’t physical.”
“Oh, well, that makes it so much better. You only betrayed me emotionally and planned to parade your mistress around in front of my entire family.”
“She’s not my mistress.”
“Then what is she, Richard? Your business consultant, your life coach, your upgrade?”
He couldn’t answer, which was answer enough.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I said, my voice deadly calm. “You’re going to go to this wedding. You’re going to smile and pretend to be a loving husband, and you’re going to pray that I don’t decide to tell everyone exactly what kind of man you really are.
And if I don’t, then you’ll find out exactly what the infidelity clause in our prenuptual agreement means.”
I walked out of the room and left him sitting there, probably trying to figure out how much his betrayal was going to cost him. He had no idea he was about to lose everything. The wedding ceremony was perfect.
Michael looked handsome and nervous. Jessica was radiant in her grandmother’s vintage lace, and their vows were the kind that made everyone believe in love again. Everyone except me.
I spent the entire ceremony scanning the crowd for Stephanie’s face, wondering when Richard would spring his surprise. He played the part of devoted husband beautifully during the ceremony, sitting beside me, even holding my hand during the vows. To anyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple.
But I could feel the tension radiating from him like heat from a fever. “You look beautiful,” he whispered during the recessional, probably for the benefit of the people sitting behind us. “Thank you,” I whispered back.
“So will your girlfriend when she arrives.”
His grip on my hand tightened painfully, but his smile never wavered. The reception was held at the most exclusive country club in the city with crystal chandeliers and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the golf course. 200 guests celebrating love while my marriage died a public death.
I spent cocktail hour working the room like a politician, talking to family, friends, college buddies, and business associates with a smile plastered on my face. But I was really hunting, looking for the brunette who was about to destroy whatever was left of my marriage. I found her during dinner.
Stephanie Martinez was even more beautiful than her photos suggested. Tall, elegant, with the kind of bone structure that belonged on magazine covers. She was wearing a stunning red dress that probably cost more than most people’s rent.
And she was standing near the bar talking to my cousin David like they were old friends. She didn’t see me approaching, but David did. “Amber, come meet my new friend Stephanie.
She just moved back to town and was telling me about her work in corporate consulting.”
“Stephanie,” I said warmly, extending my hand. “How lovely to meet you. I’m Amber, the bride’s sister-in-law.”
She shook my hand with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Of course. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Have you? That’s interesting since I’ve never heard of you at all.”
David excused himself with the survival instincts of someone who recognized female warfare, leaving us alone at the bar.
“You’re Richard’s wife,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. “I am. And you’re Richard’s what exactly?
Business associate, old friend, something else entirely?”
“We have a complicated history.”
“I’m sure you do. Complicated enough that he felt the need to hide it from his wife.”
She had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I think there might be some misunderstanding here.”
“Oh, there’s no misunderstanding.
I’ve read every email, Stephanie. I know exactly what you two have been planning.”
Her composure cracked just slightly. “I see.”
“Do you?
Because I’m not sure you understand the position you’ve put yourself in. Coming to my family’s wedding as the other woman. That takes either tremendous courage or tremendous stupidity.”
“I was invited.”
“By whom?”
She couldn’t answer that because we both knew Richard hadn’t officially invited her anywhere.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I said, my voice conversational, but my eyes probably shooting daggers. “You’re going to enjoy your dinner. You’re going to dance if you want to, and then you’re going to leave quietly without causing a scene.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll find out exactly how messy public confrontations can get when there’s this much money involved.”
That’s when Richard appeared at my elbow like he’d been watching us from across the room.
“Amber,” he said carefully. “I see you’ve met Stephanie.”
“We were just getting acquainted,” I said sweetly. “Weren’t we, Stephanie?”
The three of us stood there in a triangle of tension while the party continued around us, and I realized this was the moment everything would change forever.
“Why don’t we step outside?” Richard suggested, his voice tight with barely controlled panic. “We can discuss this privately.”
“Discuss what?” I asked innocently. “I was just meeting your friend Stephanie.
Though I have to say, it’s interesting that you never mentioned knowing anyone here tonight.”
Stephanie looked between us like a tennis spectator watching a particularly vicious match. “Perhaps I should give you two some privacy.”
“Oh, no,” I said firmly. “Don’t leave on my account.
I’m fascinated to hear how you two know each other.”
The three of us walked out to the garden terrace, away from the reception, but still within sight of the floor to ceiling windows. I wanted witnesses to whatever was about to happen. “Amber, let me explain,” Richard started.
“Please do. I’m dying to hear this.”
“Stephanie and I dated in college. We reconnected recently through business.
It’s completely innocent.”
“Innocent?”
I laughed, and the sound was sharp enough to cut glass. “Is that what you call months of planning to meet at my brother’s wedding? Is that what you call telling her that I’m holding back your success?”
Stephanie’s eyes widened.
She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so well informed. “You read private correspondence,” Richard accused. “You left your laptop open, genius.
And those private conversations were about my marriage, which makes them my business.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think. You’ve been having an emotional affair. You brought your mistress to my family’s wedding.
And you thought I was too stupid to figure it out.”
“She’s not my mistress,” Richard protested, but his face was turning red. “Then what is she? Your career counselor?
Your life coach? Your test drive for wife number two?”
Stephanie finally found her voice. “We’re just friends, Amber.
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