Love the one youre with

girl, but you're far prettier, Ellen.'

'And way smarter,' Margot says, adjusting the tie on her pale yellow wrap dress.

'Andy's so blessed to have you,' Stella adds.

As I open my mouth to thank them, Ginny interrupts what she must perceive to be a feel-good family moment and says, 'Where are those guys anyway? It's almost three… Craig promised he'd babysit this afternoon while I sleep off this champagne.'

I reach for my purse, thinking that when fathers spend time with their own children, it should not be called baby-sitting.

'Maybe Andy called,' I say, pulling out my cell at the very second that Leo's name lights up my screen. My stomach drops with excitement, and although I know I should put the phone right back in my bag, I stand and hear myself say, 'Excuse me for a sec. This is about my shoot tomorrow.'

Everyone nods their understanding as I scurry to the kitchen-already spotless thanks to Ginny's diligent caterers and invisible housekeeper-and answer a hushed hello.

'You still coming tomorrow?' Leo says.

'C'mon,' I whisper as I feel another jolt of adrenaline.

'Just checking,' he says.

A ripple of high-pitched laughter emanates from the living room, prompting Leo to ask, 'Where are you?'

'At a baby shower,' I murmur.

'Are you pregnant?' he deadpans.

'Yeah, right,' I say, feeling relieved that that's not a possibility-and then guilt for feeling such intense relief.

'So. About tomorrow. Do you wanna just come directly to my place? And we'll go from there?'

'Sure,' I whisper. 'That'll work.'

'Okay then… I guess I'll let you go,' Leo says, although I can tell he wants to keep talking.

'Okay,' I say, just as reluctantly.

'See you tomorrow, Ellen.'

'See you tomorrow, Leo,' I say, feeling flirty and fluttery as I snap my phone shut, turn around, and find Margot staring at me. My silly grin evaporates almost instantly.

'Who're you talking to?' she asks, her eyes blazing with bewildered accusation.

'It was about the shoot,' I say, floundering as I silently replay the conversation, wondering exactly what she heard.

She obviously heard me say Leo's name-as well as my tone of voice-because she says, 'How can you do this?'

'Do what?' I mumble, my face growing hot.

Margot's brow furrows and her lips become a thin line. 'You're going to New York to see him, aren't you?'

'I'm… going to New York for work,' I say-which clearly isn't a denial.

'For work? Really, Ellen?' she says, and I can't tell if she's more hurt or angry.

'Yes. It is for work,' I say, nodding adamantly, clinging to this last shred of truth. 'It's a legitimate photo shoot on Coney Island.'

'Yeah. I know, I know. Coney Island. Right,' she says, shaking her head, as I think back to the few questions she asked about the shoot-and the cursory answers I gave her before changing the subject to safer waters. 'But it's with him? You're going to see him, aren't you?'

I slowly nod, hoping for her mercy, some understanding-just as I've tried to give her, about her decision, years ago.

'Does Andy know?' she asks. It is the same question she posed in the airport; only this time, I can tell she is at her absolute tipping point.

I look at her, but say nothing-which is, of course, a resounding no.

'Why, Ellen? Why are you doing this?' she says.

'I… I have to,' I say apologetically but resolutely.

'You have to?' she says, perching one hand on her stomach as she slides her Lanvin ballet flats together. Even in a crisis, she looks graceful, poised.

'Margot,' I say. 'Please try to understand-'

'No. No, Ellen,' she says interrupting me. 'I don't understand… I don't understand why you'd do something so immature… and hurtful… and destructive… Taking the Drake assignment was one thing, but this… This is too much.'

'It's not like that,' I say, floundering.

'I heard you, Ellen. I heard your voice-the way you were talking to him… I can't believe this… You're ruining everything.'

And as she rests her other hand on her stomach, I know she means everything. Her shower. The friendship. My marriage. Our family. Everything.

'I'm sorry,' I say.

And although I am sorry, I can feel my shame shifting into self-righteousness as it occurs to me that we might not be having this conversation had she been straight with me years ago. Had she remembered that we were friends first-before I was ever with Andy. My mind races as I consider whether to tell her that I know what she did-whether there is any downside. I allude to it, saying, 'I just need… to sort some things out that needed to be sorted out a long time ago…'

Clearly not getting the hint, she shakes her head and says, 'No. There's absolutely no excuse in the world for this-'

'Really?' I say, interrupting her. 'Well, what's your excuse, Margot?'

'Excuse for what?' She looks at me, confused, as I wonder if she forgot about his visit, or otherwise revised history, editing his return right out of her memory.

'For never telling me that he came back,' I say. My voice is calm, but my heart is pounding.

Margot blinks, looking momentarily startled before quickly gathering herself. 'You were with Andy,' she says. 'You were in a relationship with Andy.'

'So what?' I say.

'So what?' she says, horrified. 'So what?'

'I don't mean 'so what' that I was with Andy… I mean… what makes you think your telling me about Leo would have threatened anything?'

She crosses her arms and laughs. 'Well. I think we have our answer right here.'

I stare into her eyes, refusing to mix the two issues. 'You should have told me,' I say, spitting the words out. 'I had a right to know. I had a right to make that choice for myself… And if you thought my leaving Andy was even a possibility… well, all the more reason that you should have told me.'

Margot shakes her head, in perfect, outright denial, as I realize that I've never heard her say that she's sorry-or that she was wrong. About anything, to anyone. Ever.

'Well, Andy has a right to know this,' she says, ignoring my point altogether. 'He has a right to know what his wife is doing.'

Then she straightens her back, raises her chin, and says in a steely, cold, spitfire voice, 'And if you don't tell him, Ellen… then I will.'

thirty

A few seconds later, Craig, Webb, Andy, and James burst in from the side door, looking sweaty, sunned, and satisfied. I inhale sharply, struggling to regain my composure as I watch Margot do the same. For one beat, I worry