Chapter 13 – Unfaithful

It had been a long time since Adeline enjoyed being outdoors without a coat. She had almost forgotten what warm weather was like, being in New York for so long. It had been a balmy seventy since she had arrived two days ago. She was enjoying being back in LA and spending most of her time outside in her favorite place, the second story deck of their Bel Air home, feeling the breeze from the lake below.

She had spent the evening of her first full day there yesterday, enjoying reading and sunbathing in the day's last light, but this morning Marc had surprised her with breakfast on the patio table. She sat across from him, watching him read the newspaper as he drank his coffee.

Lance had dropped her off at the airport in New York, and because of her self-imposed rules of secrecy, they were limited to only a final glance at each other before she departed. They stood in the middle of the airport before she checked her bags and went through security.

“I guess I'll see you when you get back,” he had said, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

“Five days,” she had responded with a slight smile, trying to reassure him.

“I'll be back early, so you know I'll be here to pick you up if you want to come back before then.”

She smiled and the two of them stole a final look before they both started to walk away – him back to his car until it was time for his flight and her to the baggage check – but she stopped and turned back.

“Lance.”

He had turned immediately and looked at her one last time.

She couldn't say it out loud in case anyone saw or heard them, but she mouthed 'I love you' to him. He smiled and mouthed it back before the two of them had walked away towards their separate destinations.

When she had stepped onto the plane that day, she had held onto that moment in her memory, and she was still holding onto it this cool, breezy morning. She had been miserable ever since she had landed in Los Angeles.

She had expected her husband to be at the airport to personally pick her up when she landed, but after she had navigated through LAX, busier than ever because of the upcoming holiday, she had been greeted by a limo driver. To Marc, it was an expensive gesture; but to her, it meant he was away working again and her arrival wasn't the first priority on his mind.

That first night, he was out especially late – probably at one of his connection's holiday parties, which he considered working. She laid on the couch all night texting Lance, who had sent her the first message telling her he had landed in Mississippi and was already with his family, asking her how LA was so far. She was bored so they exchanged messages until she finally fell asleep at midnight, and Marc had come home shortly after one in the morning.

Yesterday he had worked all day as well, and sent her to Rodeo Drive courtesy of another limo with unlimited access to his credit card – a dream for most women, but an unsavory experience for her. She had tried to make the best of it by buying two new dresses, thinking the whole time she tried them on and waited for the cashier to ring them up how much she knew Lance would love seeing her in them.

This was the first morning Marc had stayed for breakfast, but she knew it was only because he had a late-morning meeting – not because he cared to be here. She knew he left her alone a lot because she was so independent on him; but she was still a woman, and wished for a little more attention.

Attention like she got back in New York would be nice.

“The cleaning crew will be here by eleven,” he said, glancing over at her from behind his paper. “The caterers should be here by two to start the food.”

This year, instead of opting for the typical Thanksgiving dinner centered around family, even if it was only the two of him this year, he had planned a huge party with all his favorite brown-nosers.

She smiled, though it was fake.

“I'll be home,” she said. “Maybe out here, finishing my book.”

“You should go out,” he said, not looking up from his newspaper. “You've spent so much time here at the house since you got into town, you must be going crazy.”

“I like it out here,” she said, and closed her eyes when the wind picked up and hit her face. There was only one thing that would make it better, but he was in a little town named Laurel, probably having a nice pre-Thanksgiving breakfast with his parents and spending quality time with his niece and nephew.

“Well, if that's what you'd prefer. The limo will be available for you if you change your mind.” He took another drink of his coffee and turned the page. “You should wear one of those new dresses at the party tonight. You'd look great in the black one.”

“I'll do that,” she said.

They both went back to their own activities, him catching up on the business page and her savoring the fresh air, until he closed the paper and sat it down on the table in front of him. He reached over the table and grabbed her hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Addy, I know I've been gone a lot working since you've been here,” he said. “I'm sorry about that. Since you've been gone I've been out working a lot more, and it seems like I overbooked myself for your visit.”

She smiled, genuinely this time; she couldn't help herself, it was the first sweet gesture he had made since she had arrived. It almost made her regret her unfaithfulness.

“It's okay,” she said quietly. “I've been lonely – but I can take care of myself.”

“Tomorrow, after the party, I'll spend the whole day with you. We can go out for brunch, hit the beach...maybe I can pull some strings and get us into Spago for dinner.”

It had probably been over a year since she stepped inside LA's infamous Spago, and longer since she had spent an entire day with him.

“That would be great,” she said.

The happiness of the moment didn't last long. He pushed the newspaper away from himself and stood from his seat, straightening his tie.

“I'd better get to my meeting,” he said.

Adeline's face fell, and the moment of regret vanished.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I should be home by the time the party starts,” he said. He walked over to her and bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said quietly as he walked away through the sliding double doors. She wasn't sure she even believed herself.

Not even an hour later, she was engrossed in her book enjoying the temperature warming up when her phone buzzed from the glass table. She picked it up and discovered she had a text message.

In LaLaLand. Managed to grab a couple days off for the holiday. Nothing better to do 'til dinner with the fam. What the hell is there to do in this town? You should know.

When she saw the name Stephanie, the gloom from this morning disappeared. She sat her book down on the table and started typing, smiling the whole time.

Bust me from this joint, she responded. I'm in LA for the holiday too.

She anxiously waited for a response.

What about Marc?

Adeline scoffed.

Working, she replied. Surprised? Didn't think so. Pick me up in an hour?

It wasn't long before her phone buzzed again.

Oh hell, you know it, the text read. The two of us together? Watch the eff out, LA.

Adeline quickly showered, brushed her teeth and hair, and put on clothes and a little foundation and mascara. She was too excited to put much effort into looking fancy, and knew Stephanie could be early anyway. The cleaning crew showed up at fifteen to eleven, just in time for her to let them into the house because Stephanie showed up five minutes later.

Adeline left directions with the supervisor of the crew to let the caterers in when they got there around two, grabbed a few things including her cell phone, and the two of them left the house quickly.

They grabbed a bit of lunch and spent a few hours walking the streets in a few lesser-known places in town. Most of the stores were closed for Thanksgiving Day, but they managed to stop in a few clothing shops and found a few rather strange novelty stores that were still open. Adeline tried to avoid any conversation about Marc or Lance, keeping Stephanie occupied by asking a million questions about her new client and her life in California for the past two months.

Spent from their day of browsing the town, neither of them wanted to end it early so they hopped in Stephanie's rental car and drove.

“I know I'm probably going to regret asking,” Stephanie said, “but you've been avoiding the topic all day like the Plague. You...Lance...yeah?”

Adeline blushed.

“Oh yeah,” Stephanie said with a smile and a nod. “Dish it – is it amazing? Does he knock your pretty little pink socks off?”

“The frightening part is that you're censoring yourself,” Adeline said. “I don't own any pink socks, anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I helped you organize your underwear drawer when you first moved in. I know you have something in there.”

“Well if you had worded it that way in the first place – my panties find plenty of time off lately.”

Both the girls laughed. Adeline knew she said that none of their friends could know about her and Lance's secret relationship – but Stephanie was a different story. She trusted Stephanie with her life, and she knew she'd never sell their dirt to the media to make a few bucks. Deep down, Adeline knew this was in her friend's grand plan to begin with, and Stephanie was reaping joy from watching all the puzzle pieces falling into place.

“What's the scoop, then?” Stephanie said. “Is it a casual thing? How serious is this?”

“Let's just say, I don't only have a drawer at his apartment. Lately, I've been washing my clothes with his – pink panties and all.”

“Mingling laundry is rarely bad,” she responded. “So then, what's going on with Marc?”

Stephanie watched Adeline's smile fall.

“Come on,” she said. “You had to expect that I'd ask.”

Adeline paused. “Truthfully Steph – I don't know.”

“Have you talked to him about the pictures? The cheating?”

“No I haven't,” she said. “And I don't intend to. Not on this trip anyway.”

“Addy, I love the hell out of you, but you are far too peaceful for your own good. You'd let the Uni-bomber get away with it if he said he was sorry.”

“How can I confront my husband about cheating when I'm cheating on him? I think that's called hypocrisy.”

“I think the two are totally separate issues,” Stephanie said. “Are you shacking it up with Lance because your husband is cheating and you want revenge – or is it because your husband is neglectful and inattentive while Lance showers you with his love and affection?”

“Is it always your policy to make up your own rules, or is this only where Lance and I are concerned?”

“Is it always your policy to be too hard on yourself and give jackasses a pass?” Stephanie asked with a smile. “Or is this only where you and Marc are concerned?”

To Stephanie's surprise, Adeline responded by flipping up her middle finger.

“For the record, I'm not shacking it up with Lance,” she said in disgust. “I love him.”

“Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!” Stephanie said dramatically. “She said it and she didn't lower her voice or hesitate. I didn't even have to drag it out of her.”

Adeline rolled her eyes at her friend and looked down at her phone, playing with the buttons. After a few moments, Stephanie squealed and reached for the volume on the radio.

“I love this song,” she said, turning up “Piece of Me” by Britney Spears.

“You would,” Adeline said. “This could be your theme song.”

“Hey, say what you want about Britney, but I love this crazy bitch,” Stephanie said. “She doesn't take anyone's shit. You could learn something from her.”

“I like my hair and think I'll keep it, thanks,” Adeline said with a smile.

“I was actually talking about ditching the douchebag husband, but okay.”

Stephanie let the conversation lull as she drove down the busy street, with the volume of the music on high, her singing getting progressively louder. Finally, Adeline couldn't take it and reached over to the volume dial, turning it down in a swift motion.

“Hey!” Stephanie yelled. “That's my jam!”

“Why are you so invested in my marriage failing?”

Stephanie was shocked – it was rare that Adeline's tone and stare became so forceful. She actually found herself speechless.

“Is it some kind of Never Been Kissed sort of thing? Do you have a bet going with someone? Or do you get a thrill out of it because you hate him so much?”

“I don't hate him,” Stephanie said. “I hate who you are when you're with him.”

“Who I am?” Adeline nearly scoffed. “I'm the same person with him as I am without him.”

“No, you're not. You remember the first year in college, before you met Marc?”

“Yeah. I read books, listened to music, and hung out with you, like I do now.”

“The difference is that you were happy back then,” Stephanie said. “Sure, your parents dying affected you, but you didn't shut down when someone talked about it. You didn't have anxiety, you didn't have panic attacks. None of this started until eight months ago...”

“Don't,” Adeline said, putting her finger up. “Don't go there today, Steph.”

“I wasn't going to,” Stephanie responded. “And I'm not invested in your marriage failing. I'm invested in seeing you happy. I've always thought Lance was perfect for you, but he was engaged to Mackenzie and you were married to Marc. And then Kenz broke off their engagement, and you and Marc started having problems. I saw the two of you so unhappy. I always hoped you two would cross paths, because I knew if you found each other you would be happy. And now I see both of you happy and stupidly in love, but you're still hanging onto Marc and trying to pretend that you're happy. Are you happy, Addy?”

Adeline paused, starting to feel guilt for snapping at her friend.

“I'm supposed to be happy,” she said. “The house, the money, the publicity; maids and caterers and parties and schmoozing people constantly. People go to great lengths for a life like this. This is how my Nana always imagined it, the reason I moved to California in the first place – the lifestyle of the rich and famous. This is how you're supposed to want to live.”

“It always looks so charming from the outside,” Stephanie said. “Maybe for some people it is. I don't know. I wouldn't want to be married to one of my clients and live like this. As it is, I practically am already, and each day I'm one mocha latte with a double-shot of espresso short of alcoholism.”

“I don't feel that way with Lance, though. I mean, I used to. But now...”

“He's different. I don't know how. He's nothing like your husband. He's got the fame and the money, and sometimes that attitude...but he doesn't act like it. He's a normal guy. If I was in love with him, I could marry him, no second thoughts.”

“It'd be easy,” Adeline said. “It's almost too easy now.”

“Addy...”

She glanced over at Stephanie, who was simultaneously keeping her eyes on the road in front of her, but looking over at Adeline.

“You love him. He's not perfect, but he's perfect for you. He's the Romeo to your Juliet, the peanut butter to your jelly, and all that shit. This is not the lifestyle you wanted and you know it; and you know that Lance doesn't expect any of this from you. You won't say it, but I know you would chew off your left arm to have the guts to file divorce papers tonight and marry Lance tomorrow. You wouldn't even be together if it weren't for me. You're meant to be together. I just opened the can of worms for you.”

Adeline chewed on a fingernail, a nasty habit she had broken in high school but occasionally picked back up.

“Joanna's wedding is in two weeks,” she said. “She made me a bridesmaid at the last minute. He's a groomsman. Guess who they paired up to walk down the aisle together?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the car, and Adeline felt Stephanie's eyes briefly bore into the side of her head.

“Guess I'm not the only one who opened up a can of worms, then.”

After both of them went silent, the phone in Adeline's hand buzzed and she looked at the screen to see a new text message from Lance. He had been sending her silly pictures all day – pictures of the turkey or his nephew sticking out his tongue – but this time, he had sent a picture of himself and his mom both smiling.

Thought about you all day. I wish you were here...feels like something's missing in this picture.

As she was reading, another message bubble popped up.

I love you so much.

She sighed. As she looked at the picture, she felt like she should be in it, next to him.

Book a flight, for tomorrow, she typed back. I'm coming home.