Change of Heart (13 page)

She slid her ring from her finger and moved toward the small barrier separating the audience’s seats from the man to whom she’d wholly given herself. Without a word, she set her wedding ring on the banister between them, willing herself not to fall apart.

She heard the cameras clicking, a dull murmur breaking the silence as she walked out of the courtroom and into whatever new life she’d find waiting for her on the other side of the doors.

CHAPTER

“H
OW DO YOU FEEL,
M
RS.
B
RANDT?”

Evelyn had avoided the questions the reporters fired at her as she rushed through the crowd, pretending
 
—for the last time
 
—that she carried with her an unmatched strength and elegance which she most certainly did not possess. But she could not avoid the realization that what she’d just done carried consequences.

She’d sent a message for the whole world to see that she was no longer going to be the wife who turned a blind eye to her husband’s crimes or indiscretions.

She sped out of the parking lot and toward the interstate, but once she saw Denver in her rearview mirror, she pulled onto the shoulder, turned her hazards on, and sobbed.

My marriage is over.

Another failure. Blindsided by a life that had chosen to be unkind.

Hadn’t she done everything right? Hadn’t she become the perfect wife? Hadn’t she set aside all her own dreams to help her husband achieve his?

She rested her head on the steering wheel as the tears came fast and furious. She gave herself over to them, allowing herself to feel, for the first time, the pain of her husband’s many betrayals, the pain of losing a man she had deeply loved.

The sobs overtook her body, her shoulders shook, and her tears rushed from the depths of her sorrow. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel, anger welling up inside, too great to contain. Another slam, this one accompanied by a scream.

Another scream.

“This isn’t fair!” She got out of the car, unsteady on her heels. She took them off and threw them into the ditch. Cars on the interstate slowed to look at her, their drivers astounded, she was sure, at the sight of a perfectly coiffed woman unraveling on the side of the road.

She ripped the gold chain from her neck and threw it on the ground with a shout. “This isn’t fair!” Evelyn slammed her hands on the hood of the car with another shout. “Where were you, God? Where were you when he was cheating? Where were you when I was becoming a laughingstock for the entire world to see?”

She unclasped the bracelets dangling on her wrist and dropped them on the cement, then ripped her tailored gray jacket off and heaved it in the opposite direction.

“Ma’am?”

She spun around and saw a man approaching her. He’d pulled over to the side of the road, a do-gooder with a curious teenager in the backseat, taking a video of her on a cell phone.

Evelyn raised a hand. “Don’t.”

He held both hands up as if to surrender or calm her down. “Can I do anything for you?” The man inched closer.

Evelyn looked down at her bare feet, then met his eyes. “Yeah, don’t ever cheat on your wife.”

Small, sharp stones dug into the bottoms of her feet as she made her way around the car and got back inside. What was wrong with her? Was she going crazy? Was this what it felt like to have a mental breakdown?

She sped away from the man on the side of the road, back toward Loves Park to a home that was no longer hers and a life full of empty promises.

Her phone buzzed in the cup holder. Her little display in the courtroom must’ve hit the news. She turned the phone off without looking at it, knowing that while there were good people in her life, none of them could save her from the mess she’d just made of things.

“How do you feel?”

The question rushed back at her. They’d asked with such exuberance, like excited fans at a rock concert. How did they think she felt? Angry. Hurt. Bitter. Sad. Scared. Alone. Exhausted.

She felt like a woman living in the land of “I don’t know,” and she was a stranger in this world.

She drove barefoot toward Loves Park, her thoughts spinning without her permission. She was a grown woman and she’d just had an all-out meltdown on the side of the road. A tantrum that would rival even the crankiest toddler’s.

Worse, she couldn’t blame anyone else for this humiliation. It was all her own doing.

Evelyn pulled into Loves Park two hours later and made the familiar turn toward the lake as she struggled to formulate some sort of plan in answer to the question that continued to prod her:
What are you going to do now?

She would ask Whit if he was serious about letting her live in the guesthouse. Just until she got her bearings. She’d find a job. She’d pay him rent.

But as quickly as the thought entered her head, another one replaced it. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t worked in years. Her degree in art wouldn’t go far in Loves Park
 
—the place was filled with artists already. Why hadn’t she thought this through before acting out like she did? Without Christopher, she was nothing.

Fear wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed tight like a blood pressure cuff.

She pulled into the driveway of the lake house on Brighton Street and begged her mind to be still. For the sake of her own sanity, she wished she could go on autopilot for a few months.

The house had sat untouched since the FBI agents had turned it inside out. She stood on the front porch for several long seconds, trying to work up the courage to open the door.

Finally, after a heavy moment of indecision, she pushed it open and walked inside.

Quiet, but not peace, assaulted her as soon as she closed the door. She supposed most of the media had stayed in Denver today on account of the hearing. Good. She could pack her things in solitude.

Upstairs, the sprawling master bedroom beckoned to her. She stood in the doorway, staring at the four-poster bed and wondering if she would ever trust anyone again. How could Christopher betray her like that? Repeatedly? Worse, how could he be so brazen about it? Was he so self-involved that he actually thought he wouldn’t get caught?

Evelyn forced the thoughts from her head and moved toward the giant walk-in closet. She opened the doors and stared at the designer clothing and shoes filling the space. One by one, she flipped through the items, intending to pack up only her favorites, but the farther into the closet she got, the more she realized she didn’t like any of these clothes.

And she didn’t like who she was when she wore them.

She pulled out an elegant black cocktail dress Christopher had purchased for her to wear to a meeting with potential campaign investors.

“These stuffy rich dudes need something beautiful to stare at,” he’d told her. “You make perfect arm candy.”

She’d laughed at the time, but now the words made her feel cheap, like her only purpose had been to make Christopher look good.

She’d once had ideas and plans and goals
 
—but none of them had stayed with her. Somehow she’d lost herself in her effort to help Christopher. His goals had seemed so much more important than hers anyway.

She dropped the dress on the floor and pulled out a navy-blue pantsuit she’d worn to events meant to target women. She’d played a different role depending on the audience. This pantsuit made her dignified and just a touch out of reach.

“Every woman in the room should look up to you by the end. Give them something to aspire to.” Christopher had whispered the words in her ear while fastening the clasp of an elegant string of pearls around her neck.

She dropped the suit on the floor. Pulled another one out and dropped it on the floor.

Outfit by outfit, she went through her closet wondering where the real Evelyn had gone, wondering if she was so far away that she would never find herself again. Each garment landed in a pile at her feet, and as they did, she said good-bye to the persona they represented. But when she reached the end, she didn’t have a single outfit to bring with her or a single idea who she was.

She collapsed in a heap and stared at the empty hangers, some of them still swinging.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” she said aloud. “God, I can’t do this on my own.”

She’d always believed that divorce was wrong
 
—how could she admit to herself she’d even entertained the idea? But how could she not? Christopher had left her no other option.

Leaving that ring in the courtroom wasn’t a threat. It was a choice. As if her gut had made the decision for her.

But what if that wasn’t what she was supposed to do? How did she walk away from the only life she’d ever known?

All those stories she’d heard of women who forgave, who took their husbands back and moved on. Maybe those were the strong women. Maybe leaving was taking the easy way out.

Or maybe those women had husbands who were willing to change. She looked at the other side of the closet, where perfectly pressed dress shirts hung next to pristine pin-striped suits, ties neatly lined at their sides.

Tears sprang to her eyes as the revelation made its way from her head to her heart. What hurt the most wasn’t that Christopher had lied or cheated; what hurt the most was that he wasn’t sorry. And if he wasn’t sorry, he wouldn’t change.

And if he wouldn’t change, then Evelyn knew there was no sense trying to save her marriage. After all, she certainly couldn’t save it on her own.

But where did that leave her?

Sitting on the floor of a closet full of clothes that represented a person she’d become but didn’t recognize. Somehow she knew it wasn’t just Christopher’s choices that had led them to this point. It was hers too.

And that might’ve been the toughest part of all.

CHAPTER

C
ASEY HUNG UP THE PHONE
and stared at Trevor. “I can’t believe it.” He flipped on the television in his office.

“What now?”

“She wants a divorce.”

“Marin?” Casey’s wife had just found out she was pregnant. This hardly seemed like a good time to strike out on her own.

“Not Marin.” He raised a brow like he had juicy gossip. “Evelyn.”

Trevor’s heart lurched as Casey turned up the volume. Images of Evelyn entering the courthouse appeared on the screen as a reporter explained that when the judge asked the senator’s wife if she and her husband would be attending counseling, Mrs. Brandt answered in the negative, removed her wedding ring, and left it in the courtroom beside her cheating husband.

“This is bad,” Trevor said. He picked up his phone and called Evelyn.

No answer.

Casey turned down the volume. “You’re not kidding. How am I going to write up papers for her to divorce one of my best friends? You know how this is going to go over with Chris.”

Trevor took off his ball cap and folded the bill. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have cheated.”

Casey picked up a Nerf basketball and shot it at the hoop hanging on the back of his office door. “Have you
ever
known Chris to be faithful?”

Trevor cringed. He prayed he never had to admit what he knew.

Evelyn had spent her whole adult life as the subject of town gossip, but none of it had made its way back to her. How was that possible? Did she really live in that much of a bubble? Or was Chris just that good of a liar?

Trevor’s stomach turned. Despite his conflicting feelings for Evelyn, he’d been her friend, and a real friend would’ve told her the truth, no matter how much he didn’t want to.

He’d stayed out of it because he wanted her to be happy. Things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.

“I don’t want to even think about how Chris is going to respond to this. Doesn’t look good, and you know he’s all about appearances . . .” Casey shot the ball again. Missed.

“You really stink at that.”

“I’m off my game. Marin’s nesting. She’s driving me nuts.”

Trevor snorted.

“I love her, but she’s got to stop snoring at night. I can’t sleep.” Casey palmed the ball. “Did I tell you she wants to name him Jansen?”

“Call him Jan?”

Casey groaned. “Not if I can help it. I hate it. What’s wrong with a good, solid boy name like George or Henry or Robert?”

Now Trevor groaned. “It’s good you guys are on the same page.”

Casey laughed. “What’s going on with that Maggie?”

“Dunno.”

“Kiss her yet?”

“What is this, eighth grade?” Trevor took the ball.
Swish.
“That’s how you do that.” He sat on Casey’s leather couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.

“I can’t believe you. What are you waiting for? You’re not getting any younger, you know. Wouldn’t you like to have a pregnant wife whose bodily functions wake you up at night?”

He would, actually. Casey had no idea how lucky he was.

“Aw, man,” Casey said. “I know that look.”

Trevor questioned him with a shrug.

“You’re holding out on Maggie because you want to see what happens with Evelyn and Chris.”

Trevor groaned. “Don’t you start psychoanalyzing me.”

“Please. You don’t need a shrink to tell you she is the reason you broke up with Rachel. She is the reason you’re still single. And she is the reason you’re not pursuing this thing with Maggie.”

“She’s married, Casey.”

Casey leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “Right. And you’re a good man. A Christian. You’d never do anything to break that up. I know why you stopped hanging out with all of us, man.”

Trevor thought getting his wisdom teeth pulled would be more pleasant than this conversation. He’d let Evelyn go a long time ago
 
—he didn’t need the reminder of what it had cost him.

He’d seen Rachel not long after he broke things off with her. It was at the farmers’ market, where they’d first met. It had taken her some time to come back, but she walked by with her sister, and their eyes met for a brief, fleeting moment before she looked away, visible pain on her face.

Rachel’s sister stomped into their booth, stuck her finger in Trevor’s chest, and gave him a piece of her mind, which, it turned out, was nothing compared to the knowledge that his indecisiveness had hurt someone he cared for so much.

Nearly a month later, Rachel moved to one of the Carolinas. He heard she got married about a year ago. Did she still hate him for what he’d done?

He’d tried to love her, but something was missing. He hoped she saw that now.

He shook the memories away when he discovered Casey was still talking. “Chris was always threatened by you. He knew how you felt about her, you know.”

Trevor didn’t reply.

Casey sighed. “Good old Chris. Couldn’t stand the thought of you having something he wanted. I think he’s been competing with you ever since.”

Anger rose in Trevor’s chest. “He married her. I guess he won.”

Sure felt like a loss on his end.

“Be honest, Whit. Why didn’t you ever make a play for Evelyn?” Casey wadded up a piece of paper and shot that at the hoop. Missed.

Trevor didn’t want to talk about Evelyn. He didn’t need to relive his greatest regret. He did that plenty on his own time.

“Chris must be crawling out of his skin about now.” Casey loosened his tie. “He’s probably going nuts trying to figure out how to make sure you don’t make a move on her now that he’s out of the picture.”

“Doesn’t he know me better than that?”

Casey’s glare accused. “Don’t tell me you never thought about it.”

“Casey, she’s Chris’s wife.” Trevor stood. “That’s the furthest thing from my mind.”

“Whit, I was there the night you met her.” Casey wadded up another sheet of paper. “Chris got in the middle of that on purpose. He couldn’t stand it that Evelyn liked you.”

The words hung in the air. Fifteen-year-old memories replaying like a movie in his mind.

“I remember how it messed you up when he told us he was marrying her. This isn’t just a high school crush, man. You love her.”

“Enough.” Trevor hadn’t intended for the word to come out harsh, but it did. “What good does any of that do now? I’ve spent the last fifteen years thinking about how I
can’t
think about her. Can’t think about what a jerk her husband is or how I would never treat her like he does or take her for granted. I’ve had to remind myself
 
—more than once
 
—that it’s not my place to rush in and save her. That I have
no right
to think about her at all.”

Casey’s eyes were wide. “As long as you’re not thinking about her.”

Trevor threw the ball at the couch with a thud. “He knew how I felt all along.”

Casey stilled. “I’m sorry, Whit.”

“Does he even love her?”

Casey leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “Not enough to take responsibility for what he’s done.”

Trevor sat on the couch again, elbows on his knees, head down, and sighed. It was worse than he thought. He hadn’t fought for Evelyn all those years ago. He’d given her up to someone who didn’t even seem capable of loving her at all.

“All I know is I love Marin too much to ever risk losing her,” Casey said.

“So what’s Chris’s next move?”

Casey shrugged. “If Evelyn files for divorce, he’s going to try to make you look really bad to her.” Casey slid his feet off the desk and faced Trevor. “What’s he got on you?”

Trevor sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in one hot stream. He didn’t want to think about what Chris had on him. Chris’s cover-ups and lies started long before he’d married Evelyn. And Trevor had been an integral part of it all. He wasn’t any better than Chris
 
—not really
 
—and to Evelyn, who needed friends she could trust more than anything, Trevor knew finding out the truth would rip open her wounds all over again.

But this time, the betrayer would be him.