“NIGEL?”
A tap on the opened office door caused Abby Grant to look up from the desk. During this year’s summer and fall semesters at San José State University in California, she and Nigel, the visiting professor from Cambridge, England, had offices in the same literature department. They’d fallen in love and often worked side by side in one office or the other while they planned a spring wedding.
“Dr. Belmont is teaching his final class before Christmas break,” she said to the thirtyish brunette woman dressed in a suit. Maybe she was a student, but Abby didn’t recognize her. “He should be finished at noon. I’m Ms. Grant, one of the teachers in the department. Would you like to leave a message for him with me? I’ll make sure he gets it.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the woman said in a British accent as strong as Nigel’s. He’d let Abby know right away he spoke an “estuary” dialect. “I’m Lucy Belmont, Nigel’s wife. I need to speak to him in person, so I’ll wait in here until he returns.”
Abby blinked in surprise. “I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. The Nigel Belmont who’s a visiting professor here doesn’t have a wife.”
A tight smile broke out on Lucy Belmont’s face. “Indeed he does and two children. They’re expecting a visit from him over Christmas. Here are some pictures taken last spring.”
The woman handed a packet to Abby, who opened it and saw Nigel in photo after photo with this woman and two children.
Abby took the packet with shaking hands. Was this some kind of a joke? Could this woman be a sister-in-law or even a sister Abby had never heard of? Or was she a woman who had some pathetic attachment to Nigel? None of this made sense. Abby and Nigel were planning their wedding!
Not wanting to get into anything unpleasant with Lucy until she’d talked to Nigel, Abby got up from the desk. “I had no idea. Of course, you’re welcome to stay here. He should be back in about fifteen minutes. If you’ll excuse me.”
With her heart racing, Abby left the room and hurried down the hallway to the stairs. The lecture theaters were one story below. She slipped inside the room of thirty plus students and sat down at the back while she waited for Nigel to finish up his lecture.
He was popular with the students and looked the part of the jaunty professor in his tweed jacket with his dark blond hair brushed back.
She knew he had spotted her, but he continued talking and finally excused his students so they could enjoy the holiday.
When the last one left the room, Nigel gathered up his briefcase and walked toward her, giving her a quick kiss on her lips. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit from my beautiful fiancée?”
Abby stared hard at him, not wanting to believe what she was thinking. “There’s a woman waiting for you in your office who says she’s your wife. She introduced herself as Lucy Belmont and showed me pictures of her with you and two children. Please tell me this is a joke.” Her throbbing voice reverberated in the room.
Nigel didn’t move a muscle, but the light faded from his eyes. The change was enough to tell her the other woman had been speaking the truth. Pain almost incapacitated her. She backed away from him. “So she is your wife!”
He shook his head. “Look, Abby. It’s a long story. We’ve been separated close to a year. The divorce will be final soon. You have to listen to me. I would have eventually told you, but—”
“What kind of a man are you?” she broke in on him, destroyed by his admission. “To think we’ve been together all this time and a whole other part of your life has been a huge secret—”
In a flash, the happy world Abby had inhabited had disintegrated.
You’ve been in love with a cunning, monstrous, devious cheat!
Abby had often heard the expression about blood draining from a person’s face. She knew that was happening to her now and feared she would be sick right in front of him. Besides betraying her and his spouse, how many other women had he deceived? Those poor children.
She took off the engagement ring and flung it at him before dashing out of the room to the hallway. The second she reached the restroom, she retched until nothing more came up.
When she was able to stand without holding on to the sink, she hurried upstairs to her own office for her purse and left the campus. In her pain she needed to talk to the people she trusted and loved. Instead of driving to her apartment near the campus, she headed for her parents’ home in San José.
* * *
Abby stayed with her parents for several days, after which she talked with Dr. Stewart, the head of her department, about her situation. Once she’d told Dr. Stewart the truth, Abby asked if she could have a leave of absence for the next semester.
To her great relief she was granted a leave and also offered an opportunity to do some research abroad in Europe until the summer. After experiencing a world of pain, nothing could have suited her better than to get away. Best of all, she was assured that Dr. Belmont would no longer be on the staff at San José State and would be teaching at a college back east. She would never have to see him again.
After Christmas, Abby flew to LA for a week’s worth of meetings to collaborate with two other women on the project before going overseas. Ginger Lawrence and Zoe Perkins, who both had similar literature backgrounds from Stanford and UCLA respectively, had also been hired. The three of them, close in age, bonded fast. The thought of going to Europe with the girls gave Abby something to look forward to and the courage to make some changes in her life. So, before returning to San José to pack and leave for Europe with them, Abby decided to get a makeover and visited a beauty salon.
The lady in charge told her to be seated. While Abby waited, she poured through some magazines. In a few minutes one of the hairdressers beckoned her over to the chair. Abby took the magazine with her.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’d like you to cut and style my hair like this!” She showed her the picture she liked most. It was a bouncy bob with graduated layers. Each curled layer ending somewhere between the chin and the shoulders. She wanted something in between.
“Are you sure? All this long gold hair cut off?” The hairdresser acted shocked, as if Abby had asked for something sinful. How funny. Why did this woman care what she wanted?
Three weeks ago Abby had cut Nigel Belmont out of her life so fast, he hadn’t seen it coming. After Christmas he’d tried to talk to her once on the phone and she’d told him to go to hell in so many words. She’d meant it and it had felt good!
Cutting her hair was her last act to separate herself from any semblance to the old Abby—she’d since vowed never to be duped by a man again.
The woman shook her head, but she did as Abby asked. An hour later she almost squealed in delight after looking in the mirror. Abby hardly recognized herself. Her apple-green eyes appeared larger and she thought she actually looked her age of twenty-six instead of the tired-looking thirty she’d seemed to be. She’d needed something simple and easy. That was the whole idea!
Abby paid the woman a nice tip. Before leaving the salon, she had to tiptoe over her long locks of silvery-blond hair but did it with no regrets.
Five months later
WITH HER LAPTOP packed between the sweaters in her suitcase, Abby left the bedsitter in Cologny, Switzerland, where she’d been staying for the