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323 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2012


His obvious pride delighted her. She was twenty-four, he was thirty-seven, and this was the first time she’d been loved by a man of substance.
Tia looked straight at him. “I’m pregnant.”
She pushed away thoughts of Nathan’s wife. Much as she tried, Tia couldn’t stop thinking of Juliette—where she was, where she believed her husband had gone—but early on, he’d made it clear that topic was off-limits.
“You’re going to take care of it, right?”
“Alone? Like your mother?” Nathan ran his hand over his chin. “You of all people know what a hard road that is, right, sweetheart?”
“I can’t stretch between two families. Please. Look at what this means,” he begged.
I’m not leaving my family. Wasn’t I always straight about that?”
“Tell me.” “I had an affair, Jules. Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
Tia tried to fool herself that she’d sent Nathan the pictures without expectations, but she could only lie to herself so much.
Nathan brought her an array of new music, books, and films. He introduced her to cutting-edge ideas in the literature of gerontology, singers like the Nigerian-German Ayo, and encouraged her to watch documentaries like Waste Land, which he thought would broaden her world.
He told her she was beautiful, smart, and good. “The whole package,” he’d say. “That’s what you are.”
She recognized the last name. Adagio. Jesus Christ. Tia Genevieve Adagio. Such a pretty name. She’d forced that name from Nathan. “Tell me her name!” she’d screamed. “Tell me, goddamn it! I’m sure she knows mine.”
Dear Nathan, This is our daughter. Her adoptive parents send photos each year after her birthday (March 6). As you can see, she resembles you.
A child of his that wasn’t hers.
What could be more of a betrayal than having a child with another woman?
Was he still seeing Tia? It didn’t seem so from the letter. But who knew? Who really knew one’s husband? Once she would have said she did, but no more.
She’d thought it was over: the heartache, the mistrust, watching him for signs of deceit each time he walked in the house. For such a long time, she’d wondered if he was simply riding the comfort of his own lies when he’d promise the bad times were all behind them.
Now Juliette spun right back to asking herself why. Why had he slept with another woman? She’d revered him for the judgement and rectitude she’d believed he possessed.
The idea that he’d turned to that girl because his ego needed lifting drove Juliette insane. She’d always thought so much more of Nathan.
Suddenly Tia and Nathan were the couple, while Juliette pressed herself up to the glass of their secret family.
“Why, Nathan? Were you unsatisfied?” she’d ask. “Bored? Tired of me? What did you need that I didn’t provide?”
Except, of course, that he slept with someone for a year.
“I wish we could always be like this,” she whispered into his sleeve. “I know.” Nathan pulled her in closer. “Me too.” He’d lied, of course. If he’d wanted them to be together, he’d be here now. He’d have answered her letter. He’d have looked at Honor’s picture and recognized himself.
“I never meant to fall in love with you,” he’d once said.
How did he get the time to take her to places like the Fruitlands Museum in Lincoln? Had he been so drawn to her that he’d overcome his guilt at leaving his wife and sons for an entire day, or simply wanted an escape from them?
Your father cheated. You have a sister. I still love your father.
Why had he ever gone to that woman?
“You have a daughter, Nathan.” His hand froze. “She’s five.” He drew his hand away. “Maybe you already knew, huh?” she asked. “Did you know about her?”
She knew he wanted to jump out the window. “I know you knew that Tia was pregnant. I know that.”
“Juliette, I didn’t know about the child until I opened this. I haven’t spoken to . . . to her, since—” “Since when? Since you swore it was over? Since she told you she was pregnant?”
Sometimes it seemed that Nathan had slurped up her entire life, and she couldn’t refill the cup. After lovemaking, they’d talked for hours. Nathan’s stories of his parents’ escape from Hungary opened up a world that made history books pop into three dimensions, making her think about possibilities she’d never known she could have. Childhood dreams flooded back.
He swore he hadn’t known about the child, but he knew something.
“I simply don’t know if I can trust you. Not if you could keep such a major thing like . . . like a child from me.”
“She told you, right? That she was pregnant. So it’s not really all new.” “Yes. But I was more worried about us than anything else.”
“All I said was the girl looks like her mother. Is that so surprising? So horrible?” “You didn’t see your face,” Juliette repeated. “It was like you saw a ghost. A ghost you love.”
“She’s your daughter with her; that’s what makes it special, right?”
“For God’s sake, Caro. Savannah has about three million toys. What she doesn’t have enough of, it seems, is you.”
“It’s about . . . the child.” Tia clutched the blanket. “I . . . my wife. For God’s sake, Tia, how could you have just sent that to my house like that? Did you even think of the possibilities?” Tia shrank from his accusation. Guilt shamed her. Then anger followed.
The last time Tia had heard Nathan’s voice, she’d been five months pregnant, when she’d made her final attempt to convince Nathan to include her in his life, pleading, “But you love me! I know you do.”
“Oh, Tia, you are so unlike anyone else—so real, so authentic. I love you.”
Could he love her and also love his wife? Could he love her and turn his back on all knowledge about their child?
“She looks like us,” he said into the quiet. “The child.”
“She looks so much like Max, my younger son,” Nathan said. “Juliette couldn’t stop talking about it.”
“Did you care at all? Did you wonder if you had a son or a daughter? Were you ever going to call?” “Are you asking if I ever cared about the child or about you?”
“Juliette thinks I should see her.”
“Does your wife know we’re meeting?” Her voice shook. “Not really.” Nathan took her hand and squeezed. She recognized the feel of his skin too well. “I got you coffee and a scone.”
Nathan put down his muffin and smiled. “Don’t you love to pigeonhole me? Nothing changes, eh? Still my girl from the ’hood, aren’t you?”
“I need to know what you want, Tia. Why you sent those pictures. Juliette, well, you can only imagine how this affected her. It was terrifying when she found out.”
“You say wife as though you’re describing something awful,” Nathan said.
“Why are you angry at her? Shouldn’t it be me who gets your fury?”
“Juliette sounds the same way when she speaks of you.”
He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. He gave her the kiss hello that hadn’t come before. It was brief, their lips barely brushed. But it was a kiss.
“Juliette wants to go with me to see her.”
“Make love to me.” Tia circled her arms around Bobby’s waist. • • • Tia climbed on top. She was ready before Bobby began. Her synapses fired at a million miles per minute. Nathan. Nathan. Nathan.
Did she still love him? Did it count that her blood pumped faster since seeing Nathan? That his name was the only one she wanted to say, and that she could still feel the skin of his hand under her thumb?
Tia looked so young, younger than twenty-nine. She was twelve years younger than Juliette. Prying that information from Nathan had been like pulling rusty nails from petrified wood.
“Honor,” Tia said. “My daughter. What’s your interest in her? Why did you send Nathan to talk to me?” “Send Nathan?” “You know he came to see me, right?”
That bastard. He hadn’t even told her he’d spoken to Tia, much less that he’d gone to see her. Why keep it secret?
“He kissed me, you know. Nathan kissed me. Why do you think he did that?”
“You kissed her.” The TV remained off. “I can’t believe you kissed her.”
“Savannah. That’s her name.” Juliette worked on not screaming, not crying. “I said we should see the child, not that woman.”
“I asked her to get rid of it,” Nathan said.
“I asked her to have an abortion,” Nathan added, as though his words hadn’t been clear enough.
“She slept with a married man. She gave up a baby. I owe her nothing.”
“Get out.” Juliette spoke so low Nathan almost missed her words. “I want you out of here. Go.”
She stared into his eyes. “You love me, you love me. I know you love me. But that’s not the issue. I don’t know what to think about you. You’re defending her to me, asking my understanding. Do you understand at all what is tearing me apart? Even after all of this, you did it again. You . . . your sin of omission is leaving me out. Once again, I’m the outsider.”
“If we were in this together, you wouldn’t have gone there without telling me. You have a relationship with her whether you screw her or not, and you just proved it.” Juliette grabbed a nightgown and opened the door to their bathroom.
“Don’t tell me about overdramatic. Her? She? Why not name your beloved?” Juliette brought the nightgown closer to her chest. “Tia Adagio. Ms. Mother Teresa of mistresses.”
“Six. Six years ago.” Juliette balled the nightgown between her hands. “If you were done . . . if you and that girl—that woman—if you were truly done, you wouldn’t have lied to me about seeing her.”
She pushed him away. “Don’t touch me. Go sleep in the guest room. Your study. The fucking lawn. I don’t care where, as long as it’s not here.” She drew her knees up close and cradled them in her arms. “I want you out of here tomorrow.”
“How can we do this to the boys?” he’d asked Juliette. “I didn’t do this to the boys,” she’d answered. “You did.”
The last time he’d been at a hotel without Juliette, he’d been with Tia, the first time they slept together.
Tia’s body had amazed him, all tight muscle. Having all that and then going home to Juliette’s lushness had been an embarrassment of riches.
When he met Tia, six years ago, Lucas had been nine and Max was four. Life had become a round of chores piling upon chores, at home, at work
With Tia, he’d gone from being the daddy who was secretly sick of reading Caldecott Medal–winning illustrated children’s books to Max, and Harry Potter to Lucas, and from the husband tired of washing dishes after the dinners Juliette cooked, to appearing handsome, smart, and exciting. Even as it frightened him, what a god Tia seemed to think him.
The young woman’s adoration became addictive. He felt in love with her loving him. It sickened him, but if Nathan took up some retrospective truthfulness, they both fell in love with him.
“Make it right with Tia, so we never hear from her again.” “Find out if you love her.” “Convince me, Nathan. Convince me it’s truly over.”
“Go see her,” Juliette had said. “How?” he’d asked. “You figured out how to conceive her without me. Now figure out how to see her.”
“Juliette thinks the child is part of our family,” Nathan said. “The pictures tore her apart in more than one way.” “Our family? You and her?” “And our sons.”
Wanting Nathan hit her hard and fast. All the years of hope and need bubbled up and just about knocked her over. All blood and sensation rushed to her core. She loved and wanted this man like no other. She tugged at his belt.
“We can’t,” he said. Cold enough to shiver, humiliation stole her words. Everything in her became bound up in not crying. The horror of being pushed away, unwanted, left her without a tether, until only mortification existed. “I’m sorry,” he said.
He’d left as quickly as he could, not meeting her eyes after hugging her good-bye.
“I almost slept with Nathan,” Tia confessed. “Oh God, no. Why?” “Because he was here. Can’t even say I was drunk.” “Why was he there?” “She threw him out.” “Why?”
“You believed in him. You thought he was some sort of savior saint, but, sorry, he thought of you as an exciting lay. Nothing’s changed, Tee.”
He wanted to pretend that the other night had never happened. Bury it under a pile of being good. Coming that close to Tia had been playing with rocket fuel and matches.
“Once you liked me.” “I never stopped liking you, Tia.” “But you stopped loving me,” she said. “If you ever started.” He kept his eyes glued on traffic. “Did you ever love me?” she asked. “Of course I did. I’ll always love you.”
She pulled away from him. “I’ve spent the past six years trying to stop loving you.”
“You broke my heart, Nathan,” Tia said simply, quietly. “Everything I did, it was about you.” “I don’t think I knew that,” Nathan said. “I’m sorry.”
“Robin says I was the whore to your wife’s virgin.” She tapped him on the leg in the familiar manner of old lovers. “You know, the virgin-whore complex.”
Why the hell had he been unfaithful? The real answer made him seem like garbage. Sharing the truth of his hunger, his want to see himself through the eyes of a besotted woman, would make him seem like . . . like exactly the man he’d been.
Now Tia provided agitation, not electricity. Sleeping with her had been stupid. Had he really believed he could get away unscathed?
Juliette was probably the only real mother among them.
“Did you sleep with her?” “Of course not.” “Don’t sound offended. You haven’t earned that.”
“Have you stopped loving me?” Nathan asked. “I love you. The question is, can I forgive you? If I can’t do that, we won’t have any sort of life.”
“I can accept that, and I can even choose to believe it. But here’s the problem. Even if I can forgive you for Tia, I don’t know if I can forgive you for Savannah.”
“You denied your baby, your child. What in the world makes a man deny his child?”
As much as Nathan hurt her, she had hurt Juliette.
“I just don’t know if Juliette will take me back,” he’d said. “I’m afraid she’s lost respect for me. That really hurts. You know what I mean?”



