“I can’t fathom how hard that is.”
“I was proud of our marriage after we survived a massive bump at the beginning. I thought we were the perfect couple. I thought he was as happy as I was. I feel like such a fool now that I know the truth.”
“You’re not a fool, Iris. You loved the guy. After you put things back together, he never gave you any reason to suspect you couldn’t trust him.”
“He was so remorseful, so I did trust him. I refused to pry into his life to look for trouble. I remember telling the therapist we saw after he cheated that I couldn’t live like that. He said, ‘I’ll never give you reason to.’ I believed him.”
“Don’t let his mistakes change who you are. I have no doubt whatsoever that you were the most amazing wife to him, andhe’sthe one who was a fool for cheating on you.” I realize my tone has gotten progressively angrier. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get so hot about it.”
“You’re hot, all right,” she says, smiling at me. “Thank you for that.”
“It’s all true. You didn’t do anything wrong. Tell me you know that.”
“I do, but there’s this tiny niggling feeling that maybe I didn’t do enough.”
“Tell that feeling to shut the fuck up. You’re enough. More than enough. You give everything you’ve got to everyone you love, and I know you did that for him, too.”
“I tried.”
“You absolutely cannot let his massive fuckup derail you. It wasn’t you. It was him.” I can’t bear to hear her sound so defeated. “I don’t know what it is about some guys who are just never satisfied no matter how good they have it. Nat and I had some couple friends we hung out with, and one of the guys was a cheater. We all knew it except for his wife.”
“Oh God. That must’ve been horrible.”
“It was. Nat and I agonized over it. We wanted so badly to tell her, but we knew it would ruin so much—not just their marriage, but multiple friendships, too. We liked them, but we didn’t feel close enough to be the ones to tell her, you know?”
“I do.”
“It was an awful position to be in. We got to the point where we started declining invites from that group because we couldn’t bear it. The thing that really pissed me off is that his wife is lovely—kind, sweet, sincere, pretty, a wonderful mother and an amazing hostess. Events at their house were always incredible.”
“I hate women like her—haha.”
I laugh along with her. “Nat used to say she’d love to hate her if she wasn’t so damned nice.”
“I would’ve liked your Nat.”
“She would’ve liked you, too.”
“So what happened? Did she ever find out?”
“I don’t know. After Nat and the girls died, I didn’t hear much from those friends. At first, yes, of course, but it tapered off after a while. Nat was the link to them.”
“It’s strange how that happens, isn’t it? People you considered good friends just disappear for whatever reason.”
“To be honest, I haven’t given them a single thought until now. We had some fun with them, but they weren’t my people. They were Nat’s. But there’ve been others who’ve fallen off that have surprised me, like Nat’s cousin Todd, who I was close to. I never hear a word from him.”
“I wonder why.”
“No clue. I mean, he was close to Nat, too, and it might be too hard for him or whatever. Took me six months to realize he’d disappeared, so I guess we weren’t that close after all.”
“Grief is the weirdest thing ever.”
“Ever.” I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “That’s why I’m so thankful for people who understand how bizarre it is.”
“Same goes. I would’ve been an even bigger mess this week without you and the others to lean on.”
“We can’t have you losing it. We need our Iris put together so she can make us all feel like a million bucks.”
“Do I do that? Really?”