I lowered my head in silence. I hadn't forgotten.
It had been a brush with death. Bertram and I had gone skiing in Switzerland over the holidays when an avalanche hit. We were buried beneath the snow for three days and three nights.
During those three days, he held me tight against his chest. He stripped off his own clothes to keep me warm. Every scrap of food went to me.
He'd said, "Cheryl, if I don't make it out of here, I want you to remember me for the rest of your life. Don't you dare find another man."
By some miracle, the rescue team found us.
But after we got back, the doctor told me that the prolonged exposure to freezing temperatures had most likely left me unable to conceive.
"Go get changed. I'll take you out tonight, clear your head."
His voice softened. He stood and crossed the room, blocking my path. "Come on, Cheryl. I'll move back in tonight."
He leaned close to my ear and murmured, "Your period just ended, didn't it?"
Then he kissed my forehead and walked out.
He didn't know that after giving birth, periods don't come back right away.
The moment the door clicked shut, my phone rang.
On the other end, I could hear the baby crying.
The man on the line chuckled softly. "He's saying he misses his mommy."
"When will the divorce be finalized? If he won't agree, I can step in and handle it."
I turned him down. "That won't be necessary. Soon. The lawyer says a week at most."
If he got involved, it would cause another citywide scandal.
I refused to go to the party with Bertram.
He left with a flash of anger in his eyes. "Cheryl, you're getting more and more disobedient. Suit yourself."
But that evening, while packing my things, I realized the identity documents were with Bertram. I had no choice but to go find him.
Inside the private room.
"Haven't you gotten bored yet, Mr. Edwards? Cheryl Henson is just some nobody from the sticks. Don't tell me you actually caught feelings."
I was about to push the door open.
Bertram's voice carried through. "Bored? Of course I'm bored. Why do you think I keep swapping them out, one after another?"
"How else could I have lasted five years?"
I froze.
This was the fourth year of my marriage to Bertram. By my count, we were one week shy of five.
Laughter and agreement rippled through the room. All of them were Bertram's usual crowd.
"Cheryl Henson? She's nothing but a little toy Mr. Edwards picked up on a whim."
"'The nation's purest beauty'? Please. She was entertainment. And she actually believed she was the Edwards family's young wife?"
"If Mr. Edwards hadn't bet me he could bag this so-called purest beauty and keep her playing the dutiful Mrs. Edwards for five whole years, would she ever have had the chance to sit at the same table as us?"
A woman's flirtatious giggle cut through, followed by a chorus of jeers.
"Come on, Mr. Edwards. You're the one who took Rachel's virginity. The least you can do is treat her right."
"Thirteen rounds tonight might not be enough, huh?"
The woman's voice turned syrupy and coy. "Oh, stop it..."
I pushed the door open. The room went dead silent.
The woman perched on Bertram's lap was Rachel Keane, the rising supermodel.
She was squirming on top of him, her skirt hiked so high it barely covered anything.
Every pair of eyes turned to me. Not one held surprise. Only contempt. Only scorn.
I walked straight toward Bertram. I looked at the woman draped over him.
"Sorry to interrupt the fun."
"I just need your car keys. I left something behind."
Rachel didn't so much as flinch.
Bertram had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other resting on her bare thigh, his fingertips tracing lazy circles against her skin.
He looked up at me. "Still that good temper of yours. You said you weren't coming, but you couldn't help yourself, could you?"
"Couldn't even come up with a decent excuse. That desperate to take me home?"
He tossed the keys at me. "Fine. Since you've swallowed your pride, I'll give you one more chance..."
