“Please, please calm down.” she begged. “I know when you look at this logically, you’ll understand.”

“You deceived me twelve years ago. and you’ve lied during our entire marriage.” He stood and towered over her, his fists clenched. “It’s unforgivable.”

She sat in her chair, sobbing. “No, please. Until Forrest did the testing. I didn’t know I couldn’t have children-”

“And I’m supposed to believe that? How could you do this to me? To us? You lying, conniving-” He raised his hand.

Carolyn flinched, her face streaked with tears.

Her reaction stopped him. He glanced at his threatening fist. My God, I’m becoming my father. He dropped his arm to his side. His heart felt like the glass he’d shattered, betrayal cutting him deep.

Carolyn Alden Lane perched on the edge of the bed. The inky pitch of the moonless night mirrored her mood. Tired of sitting in the dark. she set her bedside lamp on dim and glanced at the clock: 2:07 A.M.

Lightning spiked the sky along the distant horizon. A gust milled the bishop-sleeve curtains that arched over the open window and a chill skittered across Carolyn’s arms and legs, raising gooseflesh. She gritted her teeth against the draft, refusing to give in to a wrap.

Mahogany wood furnishings loomed against the bedroom walls like sentries guarding the secret of her failed marriage. The shimmering satin comforter lay folded at the foot of their four-poster, a romantic touch that had long ago been dismissed.

Carolyn studied Warner, relaxed in sleep. The blended smells of aged bourbon, cigar smoke. and cologne surrounded him like a fragrant tapestry. His tousled dark hair added to his youthful appeal, belying his true age of thirty-nine.

For a year now. The battleground of their marriage survived in a state of ceasefire with each of them living separate lives. Warner found many reasons to stay in Washington, even when Congress recessed. Now, he lay beside her, a handsome stranger.

Senator Warner Hamilton Lane , she thought. I am so sorry. If only she could go back and change things, fix the multitude of mistakes she’d made.

How could a woman so adept at navigating her professional life be so deficient in her personal life? Deficient. She laughed to herself. What an understatement.

She crept out of bed and wandered around the spacious master suite. Her heart ached from the pain she’d caused. Exhaling unevenly, she looked across the room at Warner’s sport coat. Until now, she’d avoided the truth, but she knew she couldn’t any longer. The evidence of his infidelity existed, and she had found it.

Walking toward the desk, she stared at the sport coat draped over the chair. She slipped her fingers into the breast pocket, then pulled her hand back as if scorched. Carolyn bit into her lower lip, then glanced at Warner.

A soft snore escaped his lips as he rolled over.

Sliding her fingers back into his coat pocket. she pinched a corner of the note and pulled it free. With trembling hands, she unfolded the paper and read it again.

Dear Warner,

The flowers were beautiful, the dinner marvelous, and the dessert, as you know, my favorite. (Four times! How did I get so lucky?)

Perfume assaulted Carolyn’s nose as she read on:

But seriously, darling, I must tell you that when you’re not with me, I long for your touch. At night I lie with my face on your pillow, comforted by your essence. I dream of a time when we will finally be together every day. And I pray that it won’t be long.

Until next time, I’ll be missing you.

Love, Cindy

The note wasn’t any easier to read a second time, she thought. Carolyn knew why Warner had done this, but his betrayal still pierced her. She dropped the note to the floor, then crumpled onto the desk chair as the impact of her discovery finally registered.

She covered her face with her hands, giving in to the tears that wet her cheeks and palms. She’d had the best in a man and a marriage, but she’d destroyed it all. She had no one to blame but herself.

At the time, she’d thought she had little choice about having an abortion. A worm of guilt gnawed at her. She still mourned the loss of her baby, even though she’d believed that it had been the right thing to do. Now, she was no longer convinced.

Considering the child’s father, she thought giving birth would have been selfish. But maybe she’d underestimated her own strength and Warner’s love. Could she and Warner have made a life, a family, regardless of the power of the child’s biological father? The guilt bore deeper into her conscience. She’d never given Warner a chance, never given their relationship the faith and trust it had deserved.

Even if it meant losing him, she should have been forthright from the beginning. Should she tell Warner the truth about the abortion now? After all these years, she knew that he’d never accept the whole story – that the pregnancy was from a previous relationship. And he’d only despise her more if he knew who the real father had been. No, she couldn’t tell him.

Abortion. The word echoed in her mind. That single event had destroyed her marriage, her life.

Guilt and grief overcame her. No longer could she stifle her sobs. Her stomach roiled. Carolyn dashed into the bathroom. After vomiting, she splashed cold water on her face and stared at her reflection.

The world saw a poised and elegant, thirty-five-year-old assistant district attorney, a successful woman with a happy marriage and a golden path before her. She knew she was nothing but a vulnerable, flawed woman who struggled to maintain the self-assurance expected of one the youngest wives of a United States senator.

Everyone assumed she had it all, but her life was a grotesque fairytale. Only she seemed able to see the truth – she had an image built upon air. Carolyn turned away from her reflection in disgust and returned to the bedroom.

Warner still slept soundly, no doubt due to his indulgence in bourbon.

Carolyn stared down at the note as she stood in the doorway. Who was this woman? How long had they been seeing each other? Long enough that she dreamed of the time when they could be together every day, Carolyn thought. Oh my God, what if she lost him? Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she grasped the door casing for support. Over my dead body.

Warner was her entire life, her only family. Her gaze trailed from the note to his face. He was so handsome, it made her ache. They hadn’t made love in almost a year. Now, she understood why.

Regardless of his affair, she loved him deeply. She couldn’t divorce Warner; she wasn’t capable of it, despite his betrayal. Not only would her marriage be destroyed, but so would her life. Their professional lives were so intertwined with their personal lives that one didn’t exist without the other.

Should she confront him about his affair? Her first impulse was to wake him and yell and scream. Emotional, she thought, too emotional and definitely not smart. A confrontation might force a decision that would be detrimental to them both. No. The subject was better left alone until she could decide on the right approach.

She crossed the room and snatched the offending piece of paper off the floor. She folded it neatly, opened the top drawer of her lingerie chest, and placed it in a tray at the back. She wasn’t sure why she took the note, except that she couldn’t stand the thought of him keeping it. Yet, she couldn’t destroy it. If nothing else, this painful piece of evidence grounded her in reality.