Chapter 6 - The Apartment He Built for Me
I refused to let Dante turn the break-in into a crisis.
That required more effort than expected.
His first instinct was to surround me with security.
My first instinct was to remind him that being betrayed did not automatically make me incompetent.
We compromised.
One unobtrusive driver.
No bodyguards in my hotel.
No men stationed outside my office.
Dante hated the arrangement.
Which helped.
At noon, I went to the Lake Shore apartment.
Alone except for Nora.
I didn't want Dante there.
I needed to see the place without watching him watch me.
The elevator opened directly into a bright living room.
My breath caught.
He had known.
That was the first thought.
Not he had money.
Not he hired a good designer.
He had known me.
Bookshelves covered one wall.
The sofa was deep green.
The kitchen backsplash was blue and white.
Near the windows stood a wide oak desk facing the lake.
On it rested an empty leather notebook.
Nora stopped beside me.
“Bella.”
“I know.”
“This is…”
“I know.”
There were no photographs of Dante.
No obvious Moretti insignia.
Nothing that marked it as a husband's extravagant gift.
It felt like a place designed for one person.
Me.
On the bedroom dresser sat a framed photograph of my mother and me.
Nora picked it up.
“He remembered this?”
“I didn't know he had a copy.”
The contradictions were exhausting.
A man who remembered a photograph.
Forgot a conversation.
Bought a secret home for his wife.
Booked secret hotel rooms for his mistress.
Love did not make betrayal impossible.
Apparently betrayal did not erase love either.
I hated that complexity.
“I wish he were simply terrible,” I whispered.
Nora looked at me.
“I know.”
“It would be easier.”
“Yes.”
I sat on the bed.
“Do you think I should leave him?”
“No.”
I frowned.
“No?”
“I think you should stop asking people who aren't you.”
That was irritatingly sensible.
A soft knock came from the open doorway.
Both of us turned.
Sofia.
“I brought information.”
Nora glanced at me.
I nodded.
Sofia entered.
“We found Gabriel.”
“Where?”
“At home.”
Dante hadn't harmed him.
No one had kidnapped him.
He'd simply resigned and switched off his phone.
“Why?”
Sofia handed me a printed email.
“He said he discovered what Dante was doing with Bianca.”
I read.
Gabriel had monitored Bianca while handling logistics for Sofia.
Not because Sofia asked.
Because Bianca's company had sought a business contract with one of the Moretti shipping firms.
Gabriel had noticed Dante meeting her privately.
Then he discovered the hotel reservations.
“He thought he was protecting me?” I asked.
Sofia shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
I kept reading.
Gabriel had admired me.
Apparently from a distance.
Nothing romantic had ever occurred.
I barely knew him.
But in his email, he described watching me become smaller over the years.
Leaving events alone.
Waiting for Dante.
Defending him.
He had begun sending anonymous hints to Bianca.
Then to me.
“Why not simply tell me?” I asked.
Sofia sighed.
“He says he was afraid Dante would destroy his career.”
“That is not an unreasonable concern,” Nora muttered.
Sofia grimaced.
“No.”
“Did he break in?”
“Yes.”
My eyes snapped up.
“He admits it?”
“He says the apartment wasn't difficult to access because he knew the security vendor.”
“Why the wedding photograph?”
“To force Dante to tell you about the apartment.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“So he violated my privacy because he believed Dante violated my marriage.”
“Apparently.”
“Men are exhausting.”
Nora nodded solemnly.
“Finally, the investigation reaches a useful conclusion.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Sofia continued.
“Gabriel says he has one more thing you need to know.”
Of course.
There was always one more thing.
“What?”
“He sent a recording.”
She placed her phone on the desk.
An audio file waited.
Date: four months earlier.
The voices were Dante and Gabriel.
Gabriel had apparently recorded a business meeting.
Dante spoke first.
Cancel my reservation at the Langham.
Gabriel responded:
For tonight?
Yes.
Should I reschedule Ms. Voss?
A long silence.
Then Dante:
No.
My pulse quickened.
Gabriel:
Sir?
I'm ending it.
I looked at Sofia.
She nodded for me to continue.
Dante's recorded voice sounded exhausted.
This isn't who I want to be.
Gabriel:
Does Mrs. Moretti know?
No.
Will you tell her?
Another silence.
Then:
I don't know how.
My chest tightened.
Gabriel asked:
Are you ending the affair because she almost caught you?
Dante's reply came immediately.
No.
Then why?
The next words nearly broke me.
Because my wife fell asleep waiting for me last night, and when I carried her upstairs, she apologized for being tired.
I remembered that night.
Barely.
I'd waited on the sofa.
Dante had arrived after midnight.
I had been embarrassed for falling asleep.
His voice on the recording continued.
She apologized to me. Do you understand that? I'm the one who disappears, and somehow I've trained her to apologize.
I covered my mouth.
Gabriel:
Then tell her.
Dante:
I will.
The recording ended.
Four months ago.
But the affair had continued.
I looked at Sofia.
“He didn't end it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“There's another recording.”
I almost didn't want to hear it.
But I pressed play.
Three days later.
Dante again.
I tried.
Gabriel:
What happened?
Bianca said she's pregnant.
Everything inside me stopped.
The room disappeared.
The lake.
Nora.
Sofia.
All of it.
I heard only that sentence.
Bianca said she's pregnant.
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Is she?”
Sofia looked stricken.
“I don't know.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
Nine years of marriage.
May you like
Years of failed fertility treatments.
And perhaps, while I had been grieving the child we never had, my husband had created one with somebody else.
