have any family left here, so we’re it for her. I was holding her hand when she pushed his little head out, and the two of us laughed through our tears at his first baby cries. There was no sign of his daddy, but I didn’t want to bring up that subject. Besides, Billy was right outside her door when Julian came, pacing the hall like any worried daddy. It was endearing.
Julian has Lexy’s beautiful brown hair, but bright blue eyes. I don’t know where he got them, but he’s just the dearest little thing. It’s made me start wishing for little Megan, but I have to wait at least three more years for that. I can’t handle a newborn until the twins are in school. We have the terrible twos coming up soon, and I can only imagine what Lucy will be like.
Jack is so much like my daddy, I wish he were still around to see his grandson. He was aptly named because their temperaments couldn’t be more alike. I wouldn’t be surprised if he even grew up and wanted to be a doctor, although Billy is already talking about how the boys will both go to Ivy League schools and take over the business once they’re done. That’s fine with me, I’m ready for him to retire.
For now I’m busy picking out fixtures and deciding on colors and furniture schemes. Building a new house is so much fun, and it keeps me occupied. I’m no longer the sad little housewife covered in tiny babies. Things are changing for us.
When he’s at home, Billy is so sweet to me and so involved with the babies. He reads to Will and carries Lucy everywhere. Jack’s his little shadow, following Daddy wherever he goes.
We talked one night and agreed that letting so much time pass being angry and distant was a dangerous thing. It made our relationship so strained and difficult, and we missed each other so much. Now things are as natural as they ever were, and no matter how busy or tired either of us are, we do our best to stay in touch.
Now with our beautiful house, we’re becoming the perfect family I’d always envisioned us being.
Dec. 20, 19--
Dear Journal,
My best friend is sleeping with my husband.
Lexy is sleeping with Billy.
No. What are we calling her now? Alex?
Alexandra Marie LaSalle is sleeping with the father of my children.
…
I don’t remember much before I got to this point, Journal, sitting here writing this to you. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold the pen, but the scotch is helping with that.
How did I get here, you ask?
I remember racing through the streets toward my home without even noticing the street signals, the passing cars, or how fast I was driving. I wasn’t crying, but my body kept lurching as if I were going to throw up.
Where had I been?
Let’s see… We were at the annual Kyser-Brennan Christmas party in the penthouse of Phoenician I. We’d been mixing with the staff a while, and then I looked up and saw Billy walking down the hall to where the offices were located.
I went to get a drink, thinking I’d meet him back there. We’d never christened his new office, after all. That’s when I found them. The two of them. Together. In her office.
Alex leaning against her table with my husband in her arms.
Him kissing her face, her neck. His hands touching her body…
Next thing I remember, I quickly pulled the car off the road and opened the door to vomit on the ground. A loud horn passed on the other side, and I sat up crying, then shaking.
Alex had tried to stop me, but if she knows what’s best, she’ll stay away from me. I’ll happily kill her tonight.
When I arrived here, at our house, and slammed through the front door, the first thing I came to was the life-sized family portrait hanging in the entryway signed Alex .
I tore it off the wall and carried it out the front door. The canvass ripped straight down the middle as it caught the edge of a bronze planter. That seemed right. I threw it through the doorway onto the flagstone pavement. The wooden frame made a nice, heavy splitting
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