Danielle Steel - The House

“You sure as hell did,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he sat up. The girl lay flat on the bed after turning on the light, not sure what to do. She knew Phil wasn't married. And he hadn't said he had a girlfriend. The woman standing at the foot of the bed in her underwear looked a mess. “What do you think this is?” He didn't know what else to say, and the nubile blonde said nothing, staring at the ceiling, waiting for it all to go away.

“It looks like cheating to me,” Sarah said, staring him right in the eye. “I guess that's what all the weekends-only bullshit was about all along. What a fucking crock of shit,” she said, not sure herself if she was referring to his dating policy with her, or to him. She pulled on her T-shirt with shaking hands, and managed to get it on inside out. She wanted to run out the door but didn't want to walk back into the street in her bra and underpants. Then she climbed back into the overalls and only bothered to hook one side. They were drooping badly.

“Look, go home. I'll call you. This isn't what it looks like.” He glanced from Sarah to the blonde and back. But he couldn't get out of bed, for obvious reasons. He was naked, and probably still had a hard-on.

“Are you joking?” Sarah asked, shaking from head to foot. “This isn't what it looks like? How dumb do you think I am? Was she in Aspen with you? Have you been pulling this shit for four years?”

“No…I… look… Sarah…”

The girl sat up in bed then and looked at Phil with a blank expression. “Do you want me to go?”

Sarah answered for him. “Don't bother.” And with that, she hurried down the hall, slammed out the front door, threw his keys on the floor as she left, and ran down the stairs, out of the building, and back to her car. She was shaking so hard she could hardly drive. She had wasted four years of her life. But at least she knew now. No more manipulation and lies. No more disappointment. No more agonizing self-examinations about why she put up with his bullshit. It was finally over. She told herself she was glad, but tears were pouring down her cheeks as she walked into her apartment. It had been a hell of a shock. The phone was ringing as she unlocked the door. She didn't answer. There was nothing left to say. She heard him leave a message on her answering machine. She knew the voice. The voice of conciliation. She walked over to her machine and erased it without listening to him. She didn't want to hear it.

She lay in bed awake for hours that night, replaying the ugly scene in her head, that fucking unbelievable moment when he had sat up in bed and she realized there was a woman with him. It was like watching the collapse of a building imploding on itself, or a bomb going off. Their very own twin towers. The whole fantasy world she had shared with him for four years, however inadequate it was, had come falling down around them. And there was no putting it back together. She didn't want to. And even in her shaken state, she knew it was a mercy. She probably would have accepted weekends-only for many more years.

The phone continued to ring all night, and finally she unplugged it, and turned off her cell phone. It was gratifying to know he cared that much. He just didn't want to look bad. Or maybe the weekends had been comfortable after all, and he didn't want to lose her. She no longer cared. Cheating was one thing she wasn't going to put up with. She had put up with far too much already. But this was finally, and irreversibly, the last straw.

She tried to tell herself in the morning that she felt better. In truth, she knew she didn't. But she felt certain she would eventually. He had finally given her no choice whatsoever. She dressed for work, and got to her office on time. Her mother called her ten minutes after nine and sounded worried.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine, Mom.” The woman had goddam radar.

“I tried to call you last night. The phone company said your phone was out of order.”

“I was working on a brief, so I unplugged it. Honestly, I'm fine.”

“Good. I was just checking. I have a dentist appointment. I'll call you later.”

After she hung up, Sarah called Phil's apartment, knowing he would have left for work by then, and left a message. She asked him to messenger her keys back. “Don't drop them off, don't bring them. Don't mail them. Messenger them. Thank you.” It was all she said. He called her six times that day at her office. She didn't take the calls, and then finally, on the seventh call, she did. She told herself she didn't need to hide from him. She had done nothing wrong. He had.

All she said was hello when her secretary put the call through. He sounded panicked, which surprised her. He was such a cocky son of a bitch, she figured he'd try to bullshit his way through it, but he didn't. “Look, Sarah…I'm sorry… it's the first time in four years… these things happen…I don't know… maybe it was the last gasp of my freedom…we need to talk… maybe we should see each other a couple of times during the week… maybe you're right… I'll come over tonight and we'll talk about it.… Babe, I'm sorry… you know I love you….” She finally cut in.

“Do you?” she said coldly. “Funny way to show it. Love by proxy. I suppose she was standing in for me.”

“Come on, babe… please…I'm human…so are you… it could happen to you one day… I'd forgive you….”

“No, it couldn't happen to me, actually. Because I'm incredibly stupid. I believed the garbage you told me. I let you leave me at home for weekends and holidays with your kids. I've spent every goddamned Christmas and New Year's alone for four years, while you tell me how busy you are during the week and that you're going to the gym, when you're really fucking someone else. The difference between us, Phil, is that I'm honest, I have integrity. You don't. That's what it boils down to. It's over. I'm not going to see you again. Send me back my keys.”

“Don't be stupid, Sarah.” He started to sound testy. It didn't take him long to get there. “We have four years invested in this.”

“You should have thought of that last night before you got into bed with her, not after,” Sarah said coldly. She was shaking again, and she had feelings for him, but there was no turning back. She didn't want to. Now, finally, at long long last, she wanted out.

“Is it my goddamned fault that you barged into my apartment and walked in on me? You should have called.”

“ You shouldn't have been fucking another woman, whether I ‘barged’ in or not. I'm glad I did. I should have done it a lot sooner. I could have saved myself a lot of grief and four wasted years. Good-bye, Phil.”

“You'll regret this,” he warned her. “You're thirty-eight years old, and you'll wind up alone. For chrissake, Sarah, don't be stupid.” He was almost threatening her, but she wouldn't have taken him back now if he was the last man on the planet.

“I was alone when I was with you, Phil,” Sarah said quietly. “Now I'll only be by myself. Thanks for everything,” she said, and without hearing what he had to say in answer, she hung up. He didn't call her back. He tried a few more times that night, after she plugged her phone in again, and this time she had unplugged her message machine, she didn't want to hear his voice ever again. It really was over. She shed a few tears over him that night, and tried to get the awful scene of the night before out of her head. Her keys came back to her by messenger the next morning. He sent them to the apartment. It was Saturday morning. He had included a note saying that he was there for her, anytime she wanted to call him, and he hoped she would. She threw the note away after glancing at it, and packed up the things he had left there. There weren't many, toiletries, some jeans, underwear, shirts, a pair of Nikes, flip-flops, and loafers. A leather jacket he left there for weekends. She realized as she packed his things that he had been more fantasy in her life than real. He was the embodiment of hope, and the culmination of her own neurosis, her terror of being alone, and abandoned by a man, as she had been by her father. So she put up with the crumbs he gave her, and never demanded more. She asked for it, but was willing to tolerate it when he gave her less than she deserved. And on top of it, he was cheating on her. He had done her a huge favor the night he went to bed with the young blonde. She was actually surprised to discover that she didn't feel as bad as she had feared she would after the breakup. By late that afternoon, she was at the house, hammering away on the bookcase. She thought the hammering would do her good, and it did. She didn't even hear the doorbell ring at first, and when she did finally, she was afraid that it was Phil. She peered downstairs cautiously, from a second-floor window, and saw that it was Jeff. She ran down the grand staircase to the front door to let him in.