Page 87 of On the Line

Thanks, but no. This is something I need to do on my own.

Jameson

I’m here if you need me. Can I see you after you meet with her?

I remember reading that message at least twenty times last night, trying to figure out the subtext. He’s here for me, but he’s not smothering me. He wants to be supportive, but only as much as I want him to be. He wants to see me, hopefully because he wants reassurance about where things stand between us.

I don’t think I’ve wrecked things between us. When he told me he’d wait as long as I needed, I think this was what he meant.

Lauren

Yes. Can I come to your place when I’m done? Morgan will be at my house watching my girls after Tammy leaves.

Jameson

I’ll be here.

I wish I’d said more to him last night. I wish I’d reassured him that everything’s still okay between us, or given him a chance to reassure me. I’ll make sure to make up for that tonight.

But first, I have to go meet the woman who was sleeping with my husband, remodeling a house with him, and probably planning to start a life with him.

I’m throwing my scarf around my neck and slipping a light jacket on, thankful that March has brought warmer temperatures and more sunshine, when there’s a knock against the open door to my office. I look up, and AJ’s standing there in a navy-blue suit that makes her look absolutely fierce.

“You okay?” she asks. There’s real concern in her voice, which has me worried that I’ve screwed something up somehow and she’s been sent to fix it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Well, I was stopping by to congratulate you on a job well done last night, but you just looked so sad while you were packing your bag up. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Until the last five minutes, I’ve managed to go most of the day without dwelling on Jameson, or Josh, or Sophia—and apparently the minute I think about the situation, it shows all over my face, which is typical.

It’s one of the things Jameson said he loves about me, and that realization has me tearing up as I think about all the things I love about him, but haven’t told him yet.

“It’s totally not work related.” I laugh through the tears. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Will it help you to talk about it, or make it worse?” she asks.

I huff out a humorless laugh. “I don’t think it can make it worse.”

“Okay,” she says, “so what’s going on?”

“I just found out my husband was cheating on me, and bought the house in Brookline where I currently live to be closer to this woman. They were just starting to remodel it together when he died.”

“Well, shit,” she says, and takes a few steps into my office. “If it helps at all, I’ve been through something similar, so I’m always happy to listen.”

“Youhave been through something similar?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. I mean, you’re Alessandra Freaking Jones. You’re beautiful and strong and successful—like, the perfect trifecta. A man would have to be an absolute idiot to cheat on you.”

“I think a woman who is beautiful, strong, and successful—like you are, too—can also very easily be seen as a triple threat. And weak men don’t like to be threatened, so they’ll find any way they can to make you feel small. They’ll prioritize their own needs over yours, they’ll make you feel like wanting things in your relationship means you’re insecure, or like you should be grateful for any scrap of their attention they’ll give you. And when you aren’t appropriately grateful, when you want more from them—more support, or compassion, or love—they go looking for validation elsewhere.”

“That ... sounds all too familiar,” I mumble.

“That’s not about you, Lauren. That’s about him. Just like my husband’s affair wasn’t about me. Things were fine between us when we were on more equal footing. But as I became more successful at work and had to devote more time to my job, when I was less able to cater to his needs like I always had, he didn’t step up, he stepped back.”

What she’s describing sounds exactly like Josh once we had kids—he resented that they took my time and attention from him.

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