“I am not asking for your strategic assessment.” He stared at her for several seconds, then took out his phone. Tessa answered on the fourth ring.
Her voice came through the speaker carefully bright. “Hey. Everything okay?” Nicole almost admired the normality.
Adrian looked sick. “Tessa, Nicole is here.” Silence. Then Tessa said, “Okay.”
Nicole leaned toward the phone. “My son is wearing your blazer.” A sharp intake of breath came through the speaker. “And he had your purse,” Nicole continued. “Which included your hotel key.”
Tessa said nothing. Nicole did not yell. “I want to ask you one question. Did Adrian ever tell you we were separated?” Another silence.
“No,” Tessa said. Adrian shut his eyes. “Did he tell you our marriage was ending?” “No.” “Did he tell you he loved me?”
Tessa’s voice lowered. “Yes.” Nicole looked at Adrian.
“Thank you,” she said to Tessa. “Do not contact me. Do not contact my son. If your belongings are here, I’ll arrange to have them returned through somebody else.” “Nicole, I’m sorry.”
Nicole hung up. It was not enough to hear Tessa apologize, and it was still useful to hear her refuse to participate in the most flattering lie Adrian could have invented. Tessa had known. Adrian had known. Two adults had made a repeated choice with full information about who might be hurt.