The Woman He Married (30 page)

Shooting him one more disdainful sneer, Josie turned, and striding into the bathroom, shut the door behind her.

* * * *

Staying in the shower as long as she possibly could, Josie attempted to wash away every trace of evidence that she had slept with John. The very thought of him touching her made her feel dirty, and she was thankful only faint memories from the night before remained. When Josie emerged from the bathroom, she saw that John had packed his things and disappeared. But this time, she didn’t care where he was.

Looking at the clock, Josie picked up the pace.
It’s time to go home, time to start fresh.

Dressed in her new pink and lime green floral skirt, pink sweater set, the cardigan tied around her shoulders, and new strappy sandals, Josie swished her recently-cut hair in the mirror, watching it bounce and then fall easily back into place.

I am never going months without a decent haircut again,
she told herself.
Life is too short for bad hair and cheap clothes.
She finished her thoughts by admiring how well her overpriced island fashions fit to her body.

While it was painful to hear John admit to his affair, Josie felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Living in denial was exhausting, and although her body was tattered and bruised, Josie felt better today than she had in years—too many years.

A knock sounded at the door, and a bellman popped his head in, ready to transport their bags down to the lobby. Grabbing her purse and sunglasses, Josie took one more look around the room that had been the backdrop for so many changes. Smiling resolutely, she closed the door behind her.

* * * *

John gazed out the aircraft window at the tropical scenery, completely at a loss as to how things with Josie had gone so horribly wrong this morning. Feeling someone easing into the seat next to him, he turned to see Andy regarding him from under a creased brow.

“What’s the matter with you?” Andy asked. “You look like someone just told you that there
ain’t
no
Santa Clause.”

John jumped right in with both feet. “It’s Jocelyn.”

“What’s wrong with her? She looks fine to me.” Andy rubbed his chin, watching as Josie exited the bathroom at the front of the plane and took her seat.
“Pretty damn fine, as a matter of fact.”

“She wants a divorce.” John didn’t pull any punches, hoping that his brother had some much-needed answers.

“That’s funny.” Andy snickered. “No really, what’s wrong?”

“She wants me to move out as soon as we get home.”

Andy gave John a closer look. “You’re serious?” He shook his head. “I got to tell ya, this could be bad for the campaign.”

Why doesn’t he seem at all surprised?
 
John regarded his brother’s indifferent expression, wondering if Andy had heard a word he’d said. “My marriage is breaking up, and all you can think about is the campaign?”

Andy backed up. “Okay, what happened?”

“She knows about me and Trisha.”

“Big brother, I have news for you—
everyone
knows ’bout you and Trisha. The two of you aren’t exactly subtle,” Andy said, almost amused. “If you didn’t want Jocelyn to know, why’d you
do
Trisha on the beach the other night? You might just as well have pulled up a chair for Jocelyn to watch.”

“That wasn’t my idea,” John said, remembering how Trisha had insisted no one would notice they were gone. How he couldn’t get his mind off Josie and how good it had felt to hold her again. He sighed, thinking how ironic it was that he didn’t
even have sex with Trisha that night—he couldn’t go through with it.

“Great. I see you’re going with the ‘she made me do it’ excuse.”

Glaring at his brother, John asked, “What am I
gonna
do?”

“You’re going to convince her to wait until after the election, pretend like everything’s fine for now—nobody has to know.” Andy was serious at last.

“She already said that she’d wait
if
 
I
move out.”

“Great, no worries then.
You got a place to stay?”

“No, I haven’t thought about that,” John said, utterly bemused. “I’ve got a perfectly good home that I bought and paid for.”

“I’ve got more news for you—you had an affair. Jocelyn’s going to take your home and everything else she wants.”

John shook his head. “Jocelyn’s not like that,” he whispered.

“I know you don’t want to move back in with Momma,” Andy said. “You can have my condo—stay as long as you want.”

“Condo?”

“You know—the one I bought when I was…” Andy moved his fist back and forth, a devious look on his face. “With that sexy little intern a few years back. I tell you what, she was
somethin
’ else.” Andy leaned his head back, a faraway look in his eye. “It still comes in handy every now and then, so I held on to it.”

John looked at his brother, chagrinned now, seeing a little too much of himself.

Andy fished through his bag and produced a set of keys. Choosing one, he removed it and handed the key over to John. “You know where it is. Knock yourself out.”

John’s heart was in the pit of his stomach as he reached over and plucked the key from Andy’s fingers.

“Come on, John,
its
not
all
that bad.”

“How’s that, exactly?”

“It was
gonna
happen sooner or later.” When John looked at his brother bewildered, Andy said, “It’s not like you ever loved her. She was bound to catch on sometime.
Right?”

John didn’t answer; he just stared through watery eyes back at the key, turning it over and over in his hand.
Didn’t I?

“Oh, and don’t say anything about this to Patrick. I think he
kinda
has a thing for Jocelyn.” Andy laughed. “We don’t need her using Patrick and trying to settle some score with you—you know what I’m saying?”

What the hell’s happening?
John asked himself, feeling like he’d been sucker punched.
Trisha.
He thought about how guilty he’d felt after the first time he slept with her. How he’d come home determined to make things right with Josie, to have that fourth child and complete their family. But the baby didn’t happen, and Josie seemed almost…relieved. Why didn’t she
want
his child? Then, after the incident at the fundraiser, he’d just given up—turned to Trisha—she was sober at least and always seemed to say the right things.

What have I done?

Chapter 11

Spinning slowly in her leather office chair, Josie watched as the warm brown walls, mahogany bookshelves, pictures that need hanging, and packed boxes slowly drifted past. She stopped momentarily to stare through the narrow slits of the wooden mini blinds, out into the gray day, at the dormant grass and leafless branches left bare by the winter season. A metaphor, she thought, for what her life had become since throwing John out. Her world, like this season, was quietly waiting for life to re-emerge.

She’d followed her mother’s advice, asking for a divorce. Now, Carol had no more counsel, just repressed anger left from her years with the Judge directed toward her daughter’s husband.

Then, she’d left the island, finished with John and ready, anxious even, to move on. But move on to what?
A life as a single, working mother, raising three children
alone
?
What about John’s life had changed?
Nothing…nothing except his address.

Why is John allowed to continue to live his dreams while I’m left holding the “bag”?
And like an itch that became more intense each time she’d scratched it, everyday her anger toward him grew.

“Anger’s toxic,”
Barbara had told her.
“It’s like a drug—giving you a false sense of power.”

“How long am I going to be angry?”

“Don’t let it cloud your perspective, Josie. If you do, you’ll never see what’s really important, never move on.”

She didn’t want to end up a bitter, lonely divorcee. But what did she want her life to look like once the vehemence subsided?

The phone on her desk sent out a low buzz. “This is Josie,” she answered.

John’s brutish voice spat from the phone: “
Jocelyn, what happened to the pool?”

“I
dunno
,” she said. She hadn’t had time to look at the pool.

“
It’s green. You have to take care of it. You can’t just let it go
.”

Suddenly aware that John was at the house, Josie felt her nostrils flare with the building heat of her irritation. “Well, hire a pool boy,” she said coolly, trying to hold her temper.

“
I’m not hiring someone to do something that I’m perfectly capable of doing myself
.”

What was John doing at their—no
her
—house anyway? He didn’t deserve to be there. He’d lost his right to be there, or to have a say. “You don’t live there anymore!” Josie didn’t want to hold her anger. She wanted to let it out. “Maybe I need the pool boy for more than just the pool,” Josie said, sardonically.

“
Don’t be ridiculous, Jocelyn.”

“I can assure you I’m being perfectly serious. Take care of the pool and then get the hell out.” Josie allowed her indignation to mesh with her sarcasm. “Is there anything else?”

With a sigh, John continued, “
My sisters are coming in from
Atlanta
this weekend and Momma’s having everyone over.
”

A temporary sense of jubilance crept in when Josie realized she no longer had to endure social gatherings with John’s self-righteous, closed-minded family. “Fine, I’ll drop the kids off.”

“
You need to stay. They’ll be expecting you to be there
.”

“Your family’s never held anything but contempt for me and you know it.” He’d seen the way they treated her and ignored it. Her anger seethed. “Enduring a day of disdainful glances and derogatory comments from your momma and sisters is Trish’s responsibility now—I’m done!” She slammed the receiver back into its carriage.

Only, hanging up on John wasn’t good enough, so she plucked an unsuspecting pencil from the holder and snapped it in two.
“Bastard!”
She broke another. Josie breathed hard and deep as her still-sore ribs cried for her to end the rage. “Why did he have to cheat? Why wasn’t I good enough?” Josie’s belligerence melted to despair as the humiliation of being cast aside for another woman resurfaced. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked herself over and over.

After wallowing in self-pity a moment longer, Josie took the broken pencils and flung them across her office into the back of the door just as someone from the other side edged it cautiously open. Poking his head around the corner, Brian leaned in and said, “This a bad time?” Reaching down, he picked up a broken piece of pencil.

Josie straightened, smoothing her russet curls away from her flushed face. “No, come on in.”