I asked our housekeeper, Nancy, to take Valentina for the night so that we can discuss it in private. Then I texted Julian to let him know, and now he’s on his way home. I pour myself a glass of wine. Julian has warned me that alcohol is not good in combination with my meds, but surely one glass can’t hurt. I need it to relax. I leave a glass out on the counter for him, go into the living room, and turn on the gas fireplace. There’s a chill in the air, so I grab an afghan to throw over my shoulders. Taking a seat on the sofa, I sip my wine and think about the questions I want to ask.

  I hear the front door open and put down my glass. When Julian comes into the room, he takes the chair across from me instead of sitting next to me. He doesn’t say anything about the wine.

  “I want to be able to see your face,” he explains. “Make sure this isn’t too much.”

  I shake my head. “I appreciate your wanting to shield me, but I won’t break. I’m strong.” My words are braver than I feel.

  “I know you are,” he answers.

  I dive in. “I need to know why I did it. Both times.”

  Julian clasps his hands together and looks up, as if he is turning over in his mind what to say. I try to keep from tapping my foot or squirming in my seat as he thinks. His eyes retrace their path back to me, and he clears his throat. “This isn’t an easy thing to tell you, but you have a right to know. You’ve suffered from depression for as long as I’ve known you, but the medication kept it in check. Then right after Valentina was born, things got bad again.” He pauses, pressing his lips together. “You became very jealous of Sonia. Suspicious even. You worried that she was trying to take me away from you.”

  “I don’t understand.” I tilt my head. “Why did I think that? Was she flirting with you or something?”

  “Not at all. She was nothing but professional. She’d done this for two other couples, and she had impeccable references. At first you were grateful to her, but sometimes your condition worsens with added stress. You can get . . . angry.”

  “My . . . condition?”

  “I don’t like labels. But you have suffered from paranoid delusions in the past. I’m not saying you’re schizophrenic—”

  I jump up as though someone has jolted me with electricity. “Schizophrenic! That’s not possible. How could I have lived for two years off my medications and still had no delusions, if I was schizophrenic?”

  He stands and gently places his hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, Cassandra. I said I wasn’t saying you were.”

  “Why would you use that word, then?”

  He guides me back to the sofa and sits with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just . . . well, you’ve been somewhat of an enigma. You can go along quite normally, and then you have an episode that renders you almost a different person.”

  I’m stunned. It sounds like I’m crazy. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, like I said, at first you were grateful to Sonia for carrying Valentina for you, but then you started to hate her for it.”

  “Did she stay in touch after the birth?”

  He clears his throat. “No. She was gone for good.”

  “So what happened next?”

  “You were fine for a little while.” His face darkens. “But then you started hearing voices.”

  I take a big gulp of wine now. I feel as though I’m going to be sick. “Voices?”

  “Telling you that you should hurt Valentina. Very similar to postpartum psychosis.”

  This doesn’t make any sense to me. “But if I wasn’t pregnant, how could I have that?”

  He shrugs. “Some women lactate even though they’re not pregnant. The brain is a very powerful organ.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Go on.”

  He gets up and begins to pace. “We were worried for Valentina’s safety, and yours too of course. We tried all kinds of medications, and they helped at first, but the voices always came back. The day you tried to kill yourself, though, you actually seemed better.” He stands in front of the fireplace, his hand on the mantel, and shakes his head. “I know now that it was because you had made up your mind to do it, and that gave you peace. I left in the morning, and when I got halfway to the hospital, I realized I’d left my cell phone at home. I turned around and drove back. That’s when I found you in the tub. You’d already lost so much blood. If I’d been five minutes later . . .”

  I lean back and close my eyes, trying to absorb what he’s told me. It’s a terrifying story about a woman on the edge. I don’t want it to be me, but a deep sense of dread makes me fear that the woman he’s talking about is me.

  “Where is Sonia?”

  The pain in his eyes is immediate. “Don’t ask me that, Cassandra. It’s better if you don’t remember.”

  “But—” I begin, and then stop. Is Sonia the woman I’ve been seeing in my nightmares? The one whose face is half gone? Suddenly I can’t get a deep breath. I stand, trying to get the air into my lungs.

  “What about the next time? When I drove into the wall?”

  He sighs loudly. “You’d been doing much better, but then you stopped taking your medicine. That happens often with patients. You feel good, so you don’t think you need it. It was the summertime, and Valentina was three. You started having delusions again, voices telling you to do bad things. You left Valentina alone in the house and drove your car into the brick wall of the fitness center.” He swallows. “But then you got better. You took your medicine. I thought everything was going okay. Then you disappeared.”

  Julian rises and pulls me to my feet, encircling me in his arms. I begin to cry, and soon I’m racked with sobs. He holds me tightly, murmuring that everything will be all right, until finally I am spent. The elation that I felt just a few days ago in finding him again is replaced with a feeling of desolation and dread so potent that I feel I will drown. Who is Cassandra, and what secrets is she keeping?

  Whatever they are, something tells me that they have the power to destroy me.

  − 43 −

  Blythe

  Blythe finished addressing the last of her Christmas cards, put her pen down, and took a sip of chamomile tea. Cold. She set the mug back on the kitchen table and spun it around as she looked at the depiction of the sculpture Aeneas, Anchises, and Ascanius that decorated it. Addison had given it to Blythe for her birthday last summer, knowing how much she loved the works of Bernini. It was a thoughtful gift. She sighed inwardly, thinking of Addison. Recently she’d said she needed to cut off contact with all of them. Hailey had been hurt, but understood. Gabriel, however, had been frantic with worry, convinced that Addison was in danger somehow, and there was nothing Blythe or Ted could say to convince him otherwise.

  “Hey, Mom,” Hailey said as she entered the kitchen, giving Blythe a hug.

  “Hi, sweetheart. So glad you’re here. Can I make you some lunch?”

  “No. Can’t stay long. I have to get back to work.”

  “How about a cup of tea then?”

  “Yes, perfect.”

  Blythe put the kettle on, retrieved her own mug from the table, and grabbed another cup from the cabinet.

  “Here you go,” she said once the kettle boiled, and set the steaming mugs on the table before taking a seat herself.

  “Did you have a good time in Miami?” Hailey asked.

  “We did. It’s always a wonderful event. I’m just sorry you two weren’t there with us.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Hailey made a face. “Gabriel probably would have been even more miserable there than he was here, though. All he talked about was how great his trip to Florida with Addy was, and how they’d planned to go back for Art Basel.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s not been that long, but he seems to be getting worse, not better.”

  Blythe sighed deeply. “I’m worried about him, too.” She drummed her fingers on the table, shaking her head. “I knew something like this was going to happen from the very beginning. It was inevitable. There had to come a time when her other life was revealed and she’d have to make a choice. That choice was never going to be Gabriel.”

  They sat in silence for a while, sipping tea and thinking their own thoughts. Finally Blythe spoke. “I wonder if Gigi and Ed still hear from her. If she’s in touch with them and telling them that her life is going well and she’s happy, maybe Gabriel will stop believing she’s in some sort of grave danger.”

  Hailey slid Blythe’s cell phone over to her. “Why don’t you call her now?”

  “I will.” Blythe picked up the phone, scrolled down her contact list, and tapped on the number.

  “Gigi. It’s Blythe. How are you?”

  “Not too bad, just getting ready for the holidays over here. How are you doing?”

  “I’m all right. I’m actually here with Hailey. We were wondering if you’d heard from Addison lately.”

  There was a sigh on the other end. “I haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks,” Gigi said. “She’s stopped taking my calls, and her phone goes right to voice mail. I’ve tried texting her, and for a while she was answering, but a few weeks ago she wrote to say she was grateful to me and Ed for all we’d done for her and that she loved us, but she needed to give all her attention to her family for the time being. That maybe in the future we could be in touch again, but not right now.”

  Blythe was shocked. She understood that Addison needed to find her own way, but how could she just cut off Ed and Gigi, after they’d saved her life and helped her rebuild one?

  “I’m so sorry, Gigi. I know how hard this must be for you and Ed. How did things seem to you when you were in contact? Did she sound okay, like things were going well?”

  “They did. She seemed apprehensive at first, but as time went on, she sounded like she was beginning to remember things. It even sounded like she was happy to be back.” She stopped again. “But then a few days ago Julian called me to tell me he’s worried about her.”

  Blythe looked at Hailey and frowned. “Did he say why?”

  “He didn’t go into a lot of detail, but apparently she’s back in therapy, and it’s taking a lot out of her.”

  “I suppose that would be expected, given everything she’s been through. And continuing to go through,” Blythe said.

  “Right. From what Julian says, she doesn’t have any close friends, and he’s been encouraging her to call me, but she won’t. He even suggested to Addy that she should ask me to visit, but she refuses.”

  “Hmm. Strange,” Blythe said. “You don’t think he could be lying, do you?”

  Gigi sighs again. “I don’t know what to think anymore, to tell you the truth. But doesn’t it seem like if things were bad, Addy would tell me and Ed? I know things are more complicated with Gabriel, but she’d have no reason to keep that from us, right? And Julian seems like he’s on the up-and-up. If he didn’t want to help her get better, why would he have bothered to find her and take her home?”

  That was true, Blythe thought. “I haven’t told anyone but Hailey this, Gigi, but I hired a detective to look into Julian. He’s found nothing to indicate that he’s a liar or dangerous or, I don’t know, playing at some sort of crazy game. Maybe it’s just taking Addison time to adjust.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Well,” Blythe said, “if you hear anything that worries or alarms you, would you let us know?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. Take care, Gigi.”

  After she hung up, Blythe looked at Hailey and recounted the conversation to her. “What do you think?”

  Before she could speak, the phone rang. Blythe’s brows knit together when she saw Gigi’s name. “Hello?”

  “I thought of something after we hung up,” Gigi said. “Did Gabriel ever tell you that when he and Addy were in Florida, some guy came up to her in a restaurant and insisted he knew her?”

  “What? No. He never told me that.”

  “I guess that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it probably wasn’t something either he or Addy would want broadcasted. He told her he remembered her from the club in Fort Lauderdale where she used to work.”

  “What kind of club?” Blythe asked. She had a feeling Gigi wasn’t talking about a country club.

  “A strip club,” Gigi said, almost in a whisper. “Addy was mortified. Naturally she didn’t want anyone to know. Anyway,” she continued, “Ed ended up going down to Florida to talk to this guy, see what he could find out, but it was basically a dead end.”

  “Do you have the man’s name? Perhaps my detective can dig a little deeper, find some answers.”

  “I don’t remember it offhand, but I still have his business card. I’ll take a picture and text it to you as soon as we hang up.”

  Blythe sighed. “Thank you, Gigi.”

  “You’ll let me know whatever you find out?”

  “Of course.”

  “She’s a wonderful girl, Blythe. I think she’s been hurt by people who she should have been able to trust. I don’t want that to happen again.”

  Blythe didn’t want to say it to Gigi, but she was beginning to think that the untrustworthy one was Addison herself.

  − 44 −

  Cassandra

  When I left this morning to go to the grocery store, I noticed a silver car parked on the side of the road outside the house. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but now as I approach the driveway, I see that the car is still there. It has Massachusetts tags, but I can’t see if anyone is inside because the windows are heavily tinted. My heart quickens as I glance into the rearview mirror and watch as it pulls in behind me. We’re not expecting anyone, and I’m starting to feel panicky. I don’t know what to do. If I hit the remote and pull into the garage, whoever’s in the car will have instant access to the house. I decide to park in front of the house and stay in the car, with the doors locked and the phone in my hand.

  As I watch, the driver’s-side door of the silver car opens, and I’m shocked to see Gabriel step out. My heart begins beating faster. My first instinct is to run over and hug him, but just as quickly, my excitement turns to anger. He shouldn’t be here. I told him I was trying to make my marriage work. To leave me alone. What if Julian were home? I think back to my phone conversation with Gigi a few weeks ago and wonder if she encouraged him to come and see me. Before I am out of my car, he’s standing a few feet from it, waiting. Slowly I open my door and get out. He continues to stand there, looking at me but not speaking. He’s lost weight. His face is hollow and gaunt-looking, and his eyes are haunted.

  “Addison,” he says finally, stepping closer.

  My mouth feels suddenly dry. “What are you doing here, Gabriel?”

  “I can’t stand this, Addy. I had to see you. I can’t reach you at all, and I was worried.” He reaches out to try and hug me, but I shrink back. His eyes widen in surprise.

  “You shouldn’t have come. You don’t belong here,” I tell him, my voice hoarse with emotion.

  “No.” His eyes are on fire. “You don’t belong here.”

  “How can you say that? Julian is my husband. We have a child together. This is my home.”

  Gabriel looks up at the house and makes a face. “Looks like a prison.”

  I feel myself growing impatient. “This isn’t helping anything, Gabriel.”

  He looks down at the ground and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I just—I miss you. I needed to see you, to make sure for myself that you were okay. You haven’t been responding to any of my texts.” Then, lifting his eyes to me, he says, “It’s cold out here. I’ve come all this way; can we go inside and talk? Please?”

  I hesitate, struggling to decide what to do. I’m torn. He looks so miserable that I can almost feel his pain. “Okay, just for a few minutes,” I say.

  He stands in the hallway as I hang my coat and shakes his head when I offer to take his. I’m relieved that he seems uncomfortable in Julian’s house—he should be.

  “We can go in the kitchen. I’ll make some coffee.” I deliberately choose the kitchen, where we can sit across from each other with a table between us.

  Gabriel puts his coat over the back of the chair and sits while I make two cups of coffee. I pour cream into his and realize I don’t even have to think about it, as if we’re still together. Julian takes his black.

  Setting both cups on the table, I take a seat, still feeling nervous about letting him come in. I know Julian wouldn’t like it. “We said our goodbyes already. You shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what you thought it would accomplish.”

  He looks at me for a long time. “I was worried. The last time we spoke, you sounded so different. You don’t look happy, Addy.”

  I flinch, hearing his old nickname for me. I’m not Addy anymore.

  “My name is Cassandra,” I say defiantly.

  “It’s just . . . your being here. It feels all wrong to me.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger and close my eyes.

  “Are you happy? Is this really where you want to be?” Gabriel pushes.

  I drop my hand. “I’m happy to finally know who I am and to have found my family. You have to listen to me. My memory is coming back more and more. I married Julian because I was in love. I love my daughter. Yes, there are adjustments, and yes, some things are hard. But listen to me, Gabriel. This is my home and where I belong. I loved you, and I’m sorry I hurt you, but you have to accept that you are no longer part of my life, and I am no longer part of yours. It’s time for you to move on.”

  Gabriel looks like I’ve just punched him in the stomach, but he has to see that it’s futile to believe that I will come back to him.

  He eyes travel around the room, then come to rest on the row of medicine bottles lined up on the shelf next to the kitchen sink. He stands and walks over, picking up one and then the next, reading the labels. He shakes his head. “What are all these?”

  I sigh. “Some things to help me with my anxiety and depression.”

 

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