Chapter 4 - Scarlett Had Been Entering the House for MonthsJonathan placed the spare key inside his pocket.
It felt heavier than metal should.
"How many times?"
Evelyn looked toward Scarlett.
Scarlett answered first.
"Maybe twelve."
Jonathan stared.
"Twelve."
"Over several months."
"Using my key."
"Yes."
"While Hazel was here?"
"Sometimes."
He walked away.
Evelyn followed him with her eyes.
"Jonathan."
He turned.
"What?"
"Nothing happened around Hazel."
"You keep saying that as though it's the standard."
"It matters."
"Of course it matters."
His voice remained controlled.
"But the fact that you weren't having sex in front of our child doesn't somehow turn everything else into good parenting."
Evelyn flinched.
Scarlett lowered her eyes.
Jonathan pointed toward the wardrobe.
"Get your things."
Scarlett didn't move.
"I mean it."
Evelyn stood.
"Maybe we should all calm down."
Jonathan stared at her.
"I've been remarkably calm."
"That's what scares me."
He almost laughed.
"What would make you more comfortable? Screaming?"
"No."
"Throwing something?"
"No."
"Hitting Scarlett?"
Scarlett looked up.
Jonathan continued.
"Because I'm trying very hard not to become the angry husband you can both point at later and say that's why you did this."
Evelyn went completely still.
That reaction caught him.
Jonathan's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"There's that word again."
Evelyn shook her head.
"You're imagining things."
"Am I?"
Scarlett suddenly said:
"Jonathan, stop."
He looked at her.
Scarlett immediately regretted the tone.
"Don't tell me what to do in my house."
"You're frightening Evelyn."
He stared.
Then something strange happened.
Jonathan became calmer.
"Why would she be frightened?"
Evelyn said:
"Because you're angry."
"I am angry."
"You can be intimidating when you're angry."
Jonathan looked at his wife.
He thought back through eleven years.
Had he shouted?
Sometimes.
Usually over work.
Had he ever threatened her?
No.
Blocked doors?
No.
Broken things?
Never.
Hit anyone?
Not since a high-school fight.
"Have I ever hurt you?"
"No."
"Have I ever threatened to?"
"No."
"Then why are we suddenly talking about me being dangerous?"
Scarlett moved toward the bedroom door.
"I should go."
Jonathan looked at her.
"Yes."
This time he let her.
Scarlett walked into the hallway.
Hazel appeared again.
"Aunt Scarlett, are you leaving?"
Scarlett crouched.
Her face softened.
"Yeah, bug."
"Are you coming tomorrow?"
Jonathan felt Evelyn tense.
Scarlett looked toward him.
"No."
Hazel frowned.
"But Tuesday is pancake day."
Jonathan stared.
"Pancake day?"
Hazel looked surprised.
"Yeah."
Scarlett closed her eyes.
Jonathan crouched.
"What happens Tuesday?"
Hazel smiled.
"Aunt Scarlett comes after you go to work and makes pancakes."
Jonathan's stomach turned.
He worked from the office downtown every Tuesday.
Always.
"Every Tuesday?"
"Sometimes."
Evelyn stepped out.
"Hazel."
The little girl looked toward her mother.
"What?"
Jonathan kept his voice gentle.
"How long have you had pancake day?"
Hazel thought.
"Since Christmas?"
Christmas.
Three months before the physical-affair timeline Scarlett had first given him.
Jonathan looked at both women.
Scarlett's face told him enough.
"Go to your room, sweetheart."
Hazel frowned.
"But—"
"Please."
She left.
Jonathan waited.
Then:
"Christmas."
Evelyn whispered:
"We were friends."
Jonathan looked at her.
"So were Scarlett and I."
Nobody spoke.
"Was she coming here every Tuesday since Christmas?"
"Not every."
"Enough that Hazel named it."
Scarlett looked ashamed.
Jonathan pointed toward the front door.
"Leave."
Scarlett nodded.
She walked downstairs.
The front door closed.
Jonathan and Evelyn remained upstairs.
For the first time, they were alone.
Evelyn looked smaller without Scarlett beside her.
Jonathan hated that part of himself still wanted to comfort her.
She was crying.
His wife was crying.
For eleven years, tears meant he moved closer.
Today they meant nothing clear.
"Do you love her?"
Evelyn's breathing stopped.
Jonathan repeated it.
"Do you love Scarlett?"
She looked toward the bed.
"Yes."
The answer hurt differently than he'd expected.
Not explosive.
Quiet.
Final.
"Do you love me?"
Evelyn began crying harder.
"Yes."
Jonathan laughed once.
"I don't know what to do with that."
"I know."
"You love both of us."
"Not the same way."
"That's not better."
"I didn't say it was."
He sat.
For several minutes they heard only Hazel's movie playing faintly down the hall.
Jonathan rubbed his face.
"Why didn't you leave?"
Evelyn swallowed.
"Hazel."
He looked up.
"What about Hazel?"
"I was afraid you'd try to take her."
His expression hardened.
"Have I ever threatened that?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because Scarlett said—"
She stopped.
Jonathan stared.
"Scarlett said what?"
Evelyn closed her eyes.
"That if you found out, you'd use the affair against me."
Jonathan went still.
"She told you I'd take Hazel because you're with a woman?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Because I cheated."
Jonathan studied her.
"Did Scarlett tell you anything else about how I'd react?"
Silence.
"Evelyn."
"She said you'd already been talking to a lawyer."
Jonathan frowned.
"What lawyer?"
"A divorce attorney."
"I've never spoken to one."
Evelyn looked at him.
For the first time that day, genuine confusion appeared.
"What?"
"I have never consulted a divorce attorney in my life."
She stared.
"Scarlett said she saw emails."
Jonathan's pulse changed.
"What emails?"
"Between you and someone named Rebecca."
He almost laughed.
"Rebecca Shaw?"
Evelyn nodded.
Jonathan stood.
"She's our company's employment attorney."
Evelyn went pale.
"She handled a harassment complaint."
"No."
"Yes."
"Scarlett said—"
Jonathan stopped her.
"Scarlett told you I was preparing to divorce you."
Evelyn couldn't answer.
Jonathan's anger shifted.
Scarlett had not merely entered a vulnerable marriage.
May you like
She may have helped convince Evelyn that the marriage was already ending.
And suddenly Jonathan wanted to know exactly when Scarlett had started lying to his wife.
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