Oona unlocked the bottom desk drawer and took out the computer. Before she flipped it open, an idea tugged at the back of her mind like an impatient child.
What else is in here? What’s important enough to be locked away?
The laptop had been on a stack of T-shirts bearing beverage logos, and the drawer also contained hanging file folders brimming with invoices and contracts. Except the last one, which held something different: a handful of Polaroid pictures. Francesca naked in each one. Except for the last one, which featured her with a shirtless Edward.
An oily disgust simmered inside Oona, but there was also a lightness, like her head might float away from the rest of her body. Relief. She hadn’t been reading into things. She wasn’t paranoid. A certain satisfaction comes with being right, even when it’s something you’d rather be wrong about.
Is there more?
Sifting through the T-shirts, beneath them she found a rectangular jewelry box. Too short for a necklace, this one was sized for a bracelet. She opened the box. Inside was a silver watch, its face dotted with black stars, its hands stopped at three o’clock.
Oona gasped and held her breath.
It couldn’t be. Her watch.
She clutched it in one hand, covered her mouth with the other, and ran into the adjoining bathroom. Nothing came out but heaving sobs as she bent over the sink, inhaling a sharp odor of pine-scented bleach. Any satisfaction at being vindicated was gone. Her legs began to give way, but she fought gravity and remained standing, even as the white tile floor beckoned. She wanted to sleep for days, sleep into the next year, sleep through several years.
If only she could curl up on the floor right now.
I’m sorry, Mom. I wish I’d listened. I wish you could help me now.
How badly Oona wanted to cry and cry and be wrapped in her mother’s comforting arms. Madeleine would’ve surely set aside her own wounded feelings to soothe her daughter; she wouldn’t be smug or petty or say she’d known Edward was rotten all along. Except Madeleine was off with her own rotten Romeo, on a cruise and unreachable. And Oona had less than two hours to confront her husband and write herself a new letter.
“Oona?”
Beside the desk was Edward. His eyes darted to the ransacked drawer, the scattered photos, and landed on her. “Look, whatever you think this—”
“Stop!” The word boomed out of her mouth, startling them both. “I know what this is. I saw Francesca playing footsie with you the other night. I just wanted proof before you found a way to make me think I was a paranoid, jealous wife. So I went through your things.”
“Something a paranoid, jealous wife would never do, of course.” His eyebrows knit together with amusement. “And you found ‘proof’ in some photos taken years ago?”
The blasé reaction made Oona stand up straighter, imagining her vertebrae were infused with steel. “Don’t you fucking dare. I know you’re a two-timing douchelord. But we’ll get back to that. First, how the hell did you end up with my watch?” She held up the timepiece.
Rapid blinks, confusion flickering across his features. “I don’t—I didn’t—”
“I know it’s the one Dale gave me, so spare me the bullshit.”
Edward raked his fingers through his hair. “Let’s sit down and talk this over rationally.”
“You can sit, but I’m good standing.”
Her sharp tone made him falter, but he also remained standing.
They faced each other from across the desk.
“It is my watch, right?”
“Oona, I owe you an enormous apology. Yes, it’s your watch.”
“How did you get it?”
“You know how I play poker with the lads,” he began. “One of my mates started inviting me to high-stakes poker games.” Edward gnawed on his lower lip as he stared at his shoes. “I played well for a while. Then I cocked it up. Ended up owing scads of money.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Mouth pursed into a tight knot.
“And tell you the man you’re about to marry is a loser who’s two hundred grand in the hole?”
“Better than a loser who robs me of my prized possessions.” There was a tickle in Oona’s throat, a sourness in her mouth. “So you set up that burglary.”
A sheepish grimace as he scratched the back of his neck. “It was a low thing to do. I’m so sorry. They weren’t supposed to take the watch.”
“But you got it back for me.” Oona glanced down at its silver face. “How sweet.” Spoken with venom.
“I just couldn’t find the right moment—the right way to give it to you.”
“And now I won’t be able to wear it again, because it’ll make me think of what you’ve done. You’ve ruined something so special to me. While we’re returning things, you can have these.” She pulled her engagement and wedding rings off and dropped them on the desk. “So how long have you been fucking Francesca?” The vile question caused a whiplash shiver to snake through her body.
Edward wore an expression ready for denial, but the hard look in her eyes made him change course. “Three years. On and off. But we stopped after I met you.”
“Bullshit.”
“All right, there was one slip after a late night working. One. But that was it. She keeps making advances toward me and I try to reject them. I’ve wanted to end things with her for a while now, but she’s good at her job and she’s my best chance for making Clary’s a success.”
“She’s your best chance.”
“Her expertise. And you—of course you,” he sputtered.
“Well, thanks for using both of us to make your precious restaurant dream come true.”
Her snide tone made him wince. “I’m not using you. You might not believe this, but I truly am in love with you.”
Oona laughed even as hot tears flooded her eyes. “Don’t insult me by lying more. On top of the cheating and the stealing, it’s a bit much.”
“I realize that. But Oona, look at it this way. You know the worst, so there’s no reason for me to lie. What I did was unforgivable, but I do have feelings for you. I’ve been utterly smitten with you since Egypt. You can’t deny our chemistry is real. You can’t force that kind of connection.”
She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from agreeing out loud. But there was no room in her rage for sentimentality. “That was just sex.”
“It was never just sex. You know it was more than that.” His eyes grew wistful. “I’d do anything to earn your trust back…”
It should’ve been the moment she boiled over with fury, roared at ear-piercing volumes. Yet she stood there, defeated, and managed only a whisper. “I thought this was something real.”
“It is. And still can be. Won’t your brain … reset or something at midnight?”
“In a way.”
“Well … what if you let yourself forget this? Use that blank slate for us to start over.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You want me to pretend you didn’t betray me?” Oona snorted. “By the way, where’s that 2004 letter I wrote to myself? I want it back.”