Chapter 10

Boston

Claire walked through the door and immediately fell against the wall with a sob. While she was a work, she could ignore the disaster of her personal life, but the first thing she would see when entering the house was the empty picture frames on the wall, signifying that Jack’s last act before leaving was to erase his presence from the house as thoroughly as he could. It had been less than two weeks, but already she was feeling oppressed by the continual silence of what used to be a vibrant home.

For the first time in her adult life, Claire was unable spin a narrative, even to herself. Her confession to Jack left her feeling naked, still in disbelief that she confessed as she had and destroyed her own life. Even worse, the divorce papers had arrived via courier the previous day and still sat on the dining table, unopened.

The only thing that kept her from collapsing entirely was the thought of the children. They were her lifeline, the only bridge remaining to the home that she and Jack had created over twenty years. The fear of losing her children was paralyzing. She knew Jack’s nature, that he was a man of profound integrity and a surprising amount of grace. He would tell the children they were separating, but he would likely shield them from the details of her infidelity. At least she hoped he would, but considering what happened, maybe not.

The knock at the door startled Claire out of her revery. She certainly wasn’t expecting anyone, but a visit from anyone was better than the silence of the house. Unfortunately, she opened the door to a barely recognizable Thomas Kane. The normally composed executive was gone; he stood there with barely concealed rage, his face flushed and his eyes narrowed into slits.

Before she could even say hello, Thomas surged forward and used his shoulder to plow past her into the foyer. The motion left Claire stumbling back against the wall. The grace and sophistication he normally exhibited was gone and replaced with predatory aggression.

“Where is he?” Thomas roared, his voice echoing off the bare walls. “Where is that spineless piece of shit?”

Claire reeled back, her voice trembling. “Thomas, what are you doing? You can’t just—”

“Shut up, Claire!” he snapped, spinning around to face her. His eyes were bloodshot, his tie loosened and hanging haphazardly around his neck. “HR and security escorted me out of the building like a common criminal. Jack did this, I am sure! That cuck somehow played his cards and got me fired!”

This revelation hit Claire with the force of a physical blow. Jack was always the passive element in their marriage, an agreeable person who made a stable ground upon which she built her secret life. The idea that Jack, her predictable, gentle Jack, had orchestrated a professional execution of a man as powerful as Thomas Kane felt surreal. It was a level of ruthlessness she had never attributed to him in two decades.

“He ... he wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“He did! I am sure that he somehow played the victim and the company bought it,” Thomas sneered, pacing the living room like a caged animal. He stopped abruptly, noticing the vacant spots on the walls. “Where is he, Claire? Did he run away?”

Her shock began to crystallize into sharp anger. In Thomas, she saw one of the architects her current ruin.

“You’re standing in my house acting like a victim?” she spat, her voice gaining a caustic edge. “Look around, Thomas. He’s gone. He left me, he’s divorcing me. He even took pictures off the wall! My marriage is gone because of you. You helped incinerate my entire life.”

Thomas’s expression twisted into a sneer of pure derision. “Don’t give me that sanctimonious bullshit, Claire. Don’t play the grieving widow of a dead marriage now that the bill has come due.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a menacing hiss. “You were just as complicit in this as I was. You weren’t a passive participant in our affair; you encouraged it. You loved every second of it when I ran him down, didn’t you? You loved laughing about how dull and predictable he was.”

The words hit her like a slap, but they were true. She remembered the subtle jokes about Jack’s lack of passion that she spoke about because it turned her on in the heat of the moment. She had fed Thomas’s ego by feeding him the flaws of her husband, turning Jack into a caricature of a man.