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“What do you mean, you made a mistake?”

“I needed for you to hear this firsthand. Not
in a roundabout way, like with Ava. Jon was afraid he would lose
her if he told her the truth back then. And I’m afraid I’ll lose
you if I don’t now.” He finally looked over at her and she was
staring at him, not fully comprehending.

“What are you saying, Aryl? Exactly?”

“You’re really going to make me say it,” he
said agonizingly. He didn’t dare look up to see her face frozen,
staring at him in shock. “I was drunk and I missed you so much," he
said with a heavy sigh. "I spent the night with her, Claire . . . I
know what you’re thinking. But it was the only time, I swear. I
only went on a few trips that year we were apart. And although it
was difficult with Caleb and Arianna, Jon and Elyse, and then me,
the odd man out, I behaved like an already married man. Every night
I went to my hotel room alone and stayed there, thinking about you.
I swear. All those letters I wrote you, I wrote those late at night
in my room. Alone. That night, though, I just wasn’t thinking. I
let my guard down, and I didn’t realize what happened until after .
. .” She hadn’t moved her statuesque expression. “Claire, I know
you–”

She interrupted him, holding up her hand. “I
need a minute, Aryl.”

He sat quietly, unconsciously wringing his
hands while his stomach twisted. The burden that he was partially
relieved to be rid of was a thousand times heavier now, as he
waited for the fallout.

Almost an hour passed, and the ticking of the
clock echoing in the living room seemed to grow louder and louder.
The fire had died out, and the room was only dimly lit from the
kitchen light. He wondered where the screaming, the crying, the
harsh words and even a cup or plate thrown his way were? He would
have deserved it. But she was so deep in thought that he grew more
afraid that this was the calm before the storm. And he had no idea
what that storm would look like. Even her yelling, he thought
desperately, would be better than this. When he couldn’t stand the
silence any longer, he turned to her on the couch.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asked quietly,
assuming that was what she was debating. She looked at him for a
long time and then held out her hand. He took it readily and
wondered if it would actually be this easy. Could she love him
enough to forgive this indiscretion that, after all, happened
before they were married?

“Only if you can forgive me. I have something
to tell you, too,” she said, preparing to unload a burden of her
own.

∞∞∞

“Ava, what in hell?” Jonathan stood by the
door, taken aback by Ava’s ranting. She glared at him with
detestation, went into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Awhile later, she came out when she was sure
she could do something other than scream. She was instantly
irritated to see him on the couch. Jonathan bent to unlace his
boots and asked, without looking at her, “Do you mind telling me
what’s going on with you?”

“I found out about Elyse. That’s what,” she
snapped at him. He rolled his eyes impatiently.

“You’re still mad about that? It was long
before you, so I don’t see why you’re making this such an issue,
Ava. Was I not allowed to have a life or a girlfriend before you? I
guess I should have acted like a monk until the magical day when
you showed up,” he mocked.

“No. I found out more about her today. From
Arianna.”

Jonathan stopped unlacing his boots and sat
up straight.

“Well, if you know everything, then you know
that I ended it with her when I met you,” he said, wondering how
much she really did know and not willing to divulge any more than
he already had. Arianna would never do that to me. Tell her
everything, he thought.

“You ended it with her over there and with
Ruth here. Any other women on any other continents I should be
aware of? Exactly how many of them did you have going at a time,
Jonathan?” He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Again, Ava, it was before you. You can’t
hold anything against me that happened before I ever knew you
existed,” he said, exasperated.

“You should have told me about all of it,”
she insisted.

“Now, there’s some great first date
conversation. Listing off all the women of my past,” he said
sarcastically. It became obvious to her that he didn’t realize that
she did, indeed, know the whole story.

“You must have really cared about her to pay
so much money to keep her just for yourself,” she said with a dark
tone. He stared at her.

“How did you find out about that?” he asked,
already knowing what her answer would be.

“Arianna.”

“She had no right–”

“She had every right. And more over, she
didn’t have a choice. If I had to beat it out of her, I was going
to find out who Elyse was,” she said.

“I was trying to help her out,” he started to
explain. “That’s all. She shouldn’t have been forced into that
life. I set it up so that she could continue to make the same
amount of money without having to–”

“Act like a whore?” Ava finished for him. She
could see a flash of anger in his eyes when she referred to Elyse
as what she truly was, and that infuriated her to no end. “Did you
feel sorry for her?” she asked through her teeth.

“Yes.”

“Like you felt sorry for me,” she
assumed.

“No, that was completely different. I was
trying to help her get out of that work for good.”

“But you didn’t just set it up as a kind
gesture. You got your money’s worth, didn’t you?” He didn’t answer,
but stared at the fire. “How long did this go on?” She felt
compelled to ask, even though she really didn’t want to know.

“Three years,” he said flatly.

“When did you end your arrangement with
her?”

“The very next time I went to Paris after I
met you. But it started falling apart before that.” His tone was
softer now, as he attempted to be reassuring.

“And what about the very last time you went?
After we were married. You were alone. I’m supposed to believe that
after a long relationship with what must have been a very exciting
companion, you actually managed the whole trip without seeing her?”
If he lied now, he knew that it would come back to haunt him like
everything else had. As much as he hated the backlash it would
bring, he was honest.

“I did my best to steer clear of her. But the
concierge didn’t know that our arrangement had ended, and he let
her into my room. She was waiting for me the last night of my stay.
She didn’t want the arrangement to end. I told her that I was
married. I made her leave. Nothing happened.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What can I say to make you believe me?” he
said hopelessly.

“There’s nothing you can say, Jon . . . I’ve
written Maura to ask her if I can live with her for a while after
Christmas until I can figure something else out.” She turned and
slammed the bedroom door again. He stared at the fire for a moment
before he got up and stormed out angrily.

∞∞∞

Jonathan pounded on Caleb’s door steadily
until he opened it. “Your wife has a real big mouth, you know that?
She promised me she would never speak of Elyse to Ava,” Jonathan
yelled.

“She didn’t speak of her first, Jon, you
did,” Caleb reminded him. Jon stepped around Caleb and pointed a
finger at Arianna.

“You had no right!” he shouted. “Thanks to
you, she’s leaving me!” Caleb stepped in front of Jon and backed
him up a few inches.

“Don’t yell at my wife, Jon. This is
ultimately your doing. You chose to have an unconventional
relationship with Elyse, and then chose not to tell Ava about it.
It would have come out eventually, somehow. Now you go home and do
what you can to fix things with Ava. And don’t you ever show up at
my door to yell at my wife again,” Caleb ordered and closed the
door in his face. Jon turned and headed upstairs to talk to Aryl,
who might see a way to get this straightened out.

∞∞∞

Aryl answered the door on the third knock,
and Jonathan saw it was dark inside his apartment.

“It’s really not a good time, Jon,” Aryl said
somberly.

“What’s going on?” Jonathan pried. Aryl
stepped out into the hall and spoke in a low voice so neighbors
wouldn’t hear.

“I came clean about Elyse.”

“You what?” Jonathan cried.

“I heard that Arianna spilled it all, so
instead of Claire finding out later, I told her myself.”

“Ava’s leaving,” Jonathan said pitifully,
unable to focus on Aryl’s crisis.

“I can’t do anything about that right now,
Jon. I’m in the middle of this with Claire. Look, I’m sure she’s
just mad. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said, leaving Jonathan
standing in the hallway.

∞∞∞

He sat down beside Claire and took her hand
again. “Now go on and tell me what it is you need to tell me,” he
said. Secretly he was relieved. Claire had had many admirers in
both Boston and Rockport, so he waited patiently for her to tell
him of some incident of hand-holding or a stolen kiss. He would act
very troubled and then forgive her. She would forgive him and it
would all be over.

“I was miserable, Aryl, the whole time we
were apart. My mother did her best to keep me busy with charity
work and parties and introduced me to everyone she could think of.
She insisted I go out with my friends and didn’t even mind when we
went to the dance halls. My mother introduced me to her friend’s
daughter. We spent a lot of time together before she left to do
some charity work overseas. My group of friends accepted her
fiancée, Steven, and tried to help him along the same way they
tried to help me. It didn’t take long for him to fit right in with
us, and we were all having a grand time. Most importantly, time was
flying by and before I knew it, it was almost time for you to come
back. My mother thought Steven was the perfect escort for me since
both of us were spoken for. She considered it a safe alternative to
going unattended.” She hesitated and Aryl mentally steeled himself,
waiting for the confession of a rogue kiss between them. It wasn’t
going to be quite as easy to hear as he previously thought. He
remained focused on having this whole thing behind him by
morning.

“We went to a winter party at the Governor’s
Mansion,” she continued. “It was an enormous gathering, and I lost
track of Steven toward the end of the night. I wanted to go home
and went to the coatroom only to find the attendant wasn’t there. I
went in to gather my things, and Steven was there looking for his
coat as well. Aryl, I should have stopped with one glass of
champagne. I wasn’t thinking. One thing led to another and . . .
.”

“What do you mean, one thing led to
another?”

“I mean that I’m guilty of the same
transgression as you. For the same reason.” He stared at her
baffled while her words sunk in, and dropped her hand, rising to
his feet, jealous and angry.

“Tell me you’re not saying what I think
you're saying,” he demanded, and now she was the one not willing to
look at him and remained silent.

“You mean to say that you . . . and Steven .
. . in a coatroom? While I was working night and day to make a life
for us here!”

“Well, if your definition of working includes
spending the night with Jon’s high-priced whore, then yes!”

“How could you do this, Claire?” His eyes and
voice were heavy with betrayal.

“I could ask you the same thing!”

“That’s different,” he said, shaking his
head.

“And just how is it different?” she yelled,
pushing off the couch in shock at his double standard. “We both had
the same reasons, not that they were right, but we both missed each
other terribly and both had too much to drink. We both weren’t
thinking and–”

“And you never told me all this time.”

“You never told me either!”

Fuming, he turned and left, slamming the door
behind him. He paced the length of the hall several times, trying
to decide where to go.

∞∞∞

Aryl banged on Caleb’s door with his
fist.

“Doesn’t anyone knock anymore?” Caleb griped
as he opened the door.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Look, I know a lot of stuff is going on
right now, but if you’re here to yell at Arianna, you can just go
the hell home now.”

“I’m not here to yell at Arianna. I confessed
on my own,” Aryl admitted. Caleb did a double take.

“You what? Are you talking about–?”

“Yes,” Aryl said with residual dread. “I told
her. And then she told me a little something of her own. I guess
she figures we’re even now.”

“Uh-oh. Come on in,” he sighed. Caleb went to
the bedroom, brought out a bottle of brandy, and poured Aryl a
glass at the table. “All right, what happened?” Caleb asked.

“Well, I decided to come clean altogether. I
was almost relieved to be rid of this guilt. So, I confessed, and
then she told me about something that happened at a party with some
guy named Steven. And when I find that bastard . . . .” He gulped
his drink and slammed his glass down.

“You’re not going to want to hear this.”

“I know what you’re going to say, Caleb, so
don’t bother. You’re going to say that we’re even, and we need to
just forgive each other because it was before we were married.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Well, I can’t, Caleb. This is unforgivable.”
He sat back in his chair, shaking his head.

“And spending the night with Elyse is?”

“It’s different. You know it’s different,
Caleb.”

“No. It’s not,” he insisted. “Listen. You
both really messed up. But it was a long time ago before you were
married, and a lot has happened since then that means a hell of a
lot more than two serious lapses in judgment. Now, you can either
keep that in mind, forgive each other and forget about it, or you
can let it eat you alive, stay angry and end up like Jon and Ava.
She’s leaving Jon over this, by the way.”